Title IX

Westover: Giving Girls a Place of Their Own

admin — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 17:01:00 +0000

Few phrases in the English language conjure up more vivid fantasies than the words all-girl school. The education of women—especially in an all-girl environment—is highly political. The ACLU has made the argument that single-sex education has not proven to be noticeably effective, and that it in fact weakens Title IX. There is a constellation of preconceptions that swirl around single-sex education. Many assume that all-girl schools serve as a kind of cocoon and cage, sheltering girls from the real world to their detriment.

So, why make a case for separate but equal schools for women? Myself a former student of an all-girl school, conflicted about my experience, I was curious to read Westover: Giving Girls a Place of Their Own. Written by an alumna, the book is a history of the 100-year-old private boarding school in Connecticut for girls. This well-researched and beautifully designed book tells the story of the headmistresses and headmasters from the school’s founding to the present, closing with an examination of recent debates about single-sex education.

From the very start, women had a voice in the operation of Westover. The school was founded by headmistress Mary Robbins Hillard, a formidable woman and a strong presence in East Coast schools around the turn of the twentieth century. The school was designed by one of America’s first female architects, Theodate Pope Riddle. Thanks to her ingenuity and taste, Westover's gorgeous campus with grounds sprawling over more than 100 acres is now on the National Register of Historic Places. Around the 1960s, a string of male headmasters took the school's helm; however, the current leader of Westover is female, a former math teacher who helped to bolster the science and math curricula at the school.

One of the most interesting aspects of the book is the description of the school's shifting demographics and what caused them. When Westover opened, it was white and socioeconomically homogeneous, with the student body largely comprised of the daughters of the East Coast elite. However, in the 1940s, Westover headmistress Louise Dillingham boldly stated that schools should take a stand on behalf "equality of opportunity in democracy,” and advocated for voluntary integration of the school. The school's board stood firm in their support of the headmistress' statement, though it was controversial at the time. While Westover's progressive pro-integration stance led to declining enrollment, there was an eventual increase in diversity at the school: currently, 21% of the student body is "diverse", per Westover's brochures.

The story of Westover is an engaging one charmingly told, and it gives a good overview of the shifting notions of what makes a well-educated woman throughout the twentieth century. However, when making a case for the continued existence of women's schools into the twenty first century as in the last two chapters of the book, the author—and the heads of Westover—rely strongly on difference feminism—the theory that men and women are fundamentally different in how they communicate and approach problems. I must admit that I'm not entirely convinced by this argument: I feel that all girls’ schools succeed—sometimes—because of more supportive parents, the absence of boys and other factors.

Westover isn't meant to be a scholarly treatise on all-girl's schools and so doesn't succeed as one. Don't read it for a well-balanced look at current debates on single-sex education. Do, however, pick it up if you're interested in the history of American education and possibly its future. To quote current headmistress Ann Pollina, "We need to send out a phalanx of girls who are going to do what the world needs, which is to embody those qualities of care and nurture and community that our culture is desperate for right now. The culture needs our girls." Girls—and not just those at Westover—should take note.

Written by: Catherine Nicotera, November 21st 2009

Dating Jesus: A Story of Fundamentalism, Feminism, and the American Girl

admin — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 16:02:00 +0000

By Susan Campbell

Beacon Press

As a feminist who was raised within the Christian fundamentalist paradigm, I was immediately drawn to this memoir. Though Susan Campbell and I come from different flavors of fundamentalism, all of the experiences she writes about ring true. I suspect they would ring true for all women who were raised within a patriarchal religion (fundamentalist or not), as well as women who may not have been raised with any religion at all, but recognized prejudice in American society just the same.

Campbell grew up in the South during the 1960s and '70s, where she struggled with what was expected of her as a female. In Dating Jesus, she describes countless scenarios of rebellion, which make the reader simultaneously laugh and pump her fist in the air in solidarity and support. One such incident took place when Campbell asked her Sunday school teacher why women could not be preachers. Her teacher gave her a pat answer, yet even at a young age, Campbell was skilled in rhetoric and debate. She continued to dialogue respectfully with her teacher until he stepped out and returned with her mother, who took her out of the Sunday school class to spend the rest of the time in the nursery. “The meaning is not lost on me,” Campbell writes. "For asking questions, I will be placed among babies who slobber and fill their pants. It is a public shaming."

Dating Jesus is not limited to describing faith-based injustices against women. It also paints a picture of America at a time before Title IX, through the eyes of a tomboy who desperately wants to be treated as her brothers are, but is constantly expected to behave like "a good Christian girl." This reprimand comes from all sides, including her school principal when Campbell flips off a fellow student athlete as he shows off his new school-bought sneakers. The female sports teams at the school had been forced to wear the same ratty uniforms while the boys were given new uniforms for each sport.

Yet the fact remains that Campbell's memoir is about her tumultuous relationship with Jesus, whom she views as her boyfriend from age eight on. And who can blame her? She is brought up in a culture of loving and adoring Jesus and living her life in order to make him happy. One of the best things about this memoir, however, is that it does not end with Campbell dismissing Christianity altogether. She is honest enough to say that while she is disappointed by the route the church has taken, where misogyny and strict legalism reign in place of Jesus' message of love and acceptance, she is still a Christian on some level. She refers to people like herself as "Christ-haunted," never being able to depart fully from the faith. When, as adults, her brother says to her, "Fundamentalism broke off in us, didn’t it?" the reader who has lived this type of life knows exactly what he means.

Campbell ends on a hopeful note. She talks about the way Jesus treated women in the Bible, which was very different from how the rest of the world treated them. They were seen as outcasts, unworthy of attention or respect, but Jesus spent time talking with them. He valued them in a way that was revolutionary at the time. Campbell's final realization is that the Jesus she "dated" throughout childhood was "someone’s idea of Jesus, but not the real one." She notes, "The real Jesus wouldn’t have loved me less because of my gender. The real Jesus wouldn’t have weighed me down with rules—a list of do's and don'ts that serve no real purpose. The real Jesus would have had a sense of humor about the whole thing, goddammit."

Written by: April D. Boland, April 10th 2009

Women and Sports in the United States

admin — Thu, 08 Mar 2007 02:19:00 +0000

Edited by Jean O’Reilly, Susan K. Cahn

Northeastern University Press

As the rather generic title would suggest, this collection is intended as an introduction to a broad field, perhaps a reader useful for a college-level Exercise Science or Physical Education seminar. There are nods to some of the pioneers of sport, essays on gender and athleticism—most of them more journalistic than scholarly—an all too brief treatment of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League of A League of Their Own fame.

There is a rehash of Brandi Chastain’s exuberant celebration after the 1999 Women’s World Cup and the sexualizing of athletes’ bodies in the media. There is coverage of Title IX, including a reproduction of the law itself, that revolutionized women’s sports in the 1970s. Lamentably, George Will, the notorious global warming-denier, is permitted space to spew his tiresome resentment against “the codification of feminism”—shocking, indeed!

What is missing, here, is the power of story: narratives of compelling individualism and achievement against odds that do much more to explain and account for the cultural pervasiveness of sport than essays such as are presented here. The book mentions that in 1974 Little League Baseball began to allow girls to participate after losing a lawsuit. That may well be of historical consequence, but there are powerful baseball stories that the editors overlook: the story of Pam Postema, minor league umpire from 1977 to 1988—and major league umpire in the spring of 1988, who was victimized by discrimination of the Jackie Robinson variety and was driven from the sport. Or Illa Borders, a pitcher who in 1998 proved that women could succeed in competition with men in professional baseball.

As an introduction to a burgeoning field, this collection is useful, but it may fall short of contributing to the growing excitement, building story by story, achievement by achievement, that surrounds women’s athletics.

Written by: Rick Taylor, March 7th 2007