I bristled a bit at the news that the great Sally Ride, who died this week in San Diego at 61 of pancreatic cancer, has now in death been labelled “the first lesbian astronaut.”
She was one of nature’s aristocrats – not only a PhD physicist and the first American woman in space (and at 32, the youngest American as well) but also a Shakespeare scholar, a tennis player who could have turned pro, an entrepreneur and an activist. Her company Sally Ride Science paved the way for more girls and young women to make their way to the STEM subjects – science, technology, engineering and math.
With such a dazzling legacy, Dr. Ride’s sexual orientation was certainly the most private and arguably least remarkable thing about her. She chose to keep it a family matter until she died.
Then, in her obituary, in words she helped to write, she had a post-mortem coming out – not as a declaration of who she was, but of who she loved, stating matter-of-factly that she left behind her partner of 27 years, Tam O’Shaugnessy, an author and educator, vice-president of Sally Ride Science and a former pro tennis player.
They were two accomplished women who happened to love each other and who have now ignited a debate in the Twittersphere and beyond about the pros and cons of keeping your gay orientation private instead of waving the flag.
“She had a chance to expand people’s horizons and young lesbians’ hope and self-esteem, and she chose not to,” wrote the usually reliable Daily Beast blogger Andrew Sullivan. “She was the absent heroine.”
Hardly. She was a magnificent heroine who just didn’t see gay rights as “her battle of choice” (science education was), explained her irresistibly named sister, Bear, also a lesbian, who has been much more vocal in the LGBT community.
Perhaps looking for a silver lining in her beloved sister’s early death, Bear added: “The pancreatic cancer community is going to be absolutely thrilled that there’s now this advocate that they didn’t know about. And, I hope the GLBT community feels the same.”
Well, yes, but cheated, too. Think how empowering it could have been to have claimed Sally Ride as one of your own! To have her march with her gloriously curly hair and trim figure in full astronaut regalia in pride parades. And, oh for a time machine, to have had her back in 1983, striding to her spacecraft as “America’s first lesbian astronaut.”
But we all know that never would have happened. The image-crafters at the male-dominated NASA who made household names out of astronauts would have gone with “Houston, we have a BIG problem” and simply not allowed a “queer” woman in space.
Besides, aren’t we conveniently forgetting that in 1982 Sally Ride was actually married to a man, fellow astronaut Steven Hawley? That marriage lasted five years and was obviously part of her emotional and sexual journey.
I loved Bear Ride’s taciturn explanation as to why her profoundly private sister really chose to fly under the public gaydar: “We chalk that up to being Norwegian.” Or as one gay woman I know succinctly put it, “It was her own bloody business!”
Yet while it made sense to her to keep her sexual preference private, we have moved into a new era well beyond don’t ask/don’t tell. Public figures are choosing to come out in different ways now, adding to an ever growing societal acceptance and understanding of homosexuality, and of course of gay marriage, one of the last great civil rights left to be universally validated.
Just last month, CNN anchor Anderson Cooper gracefully came out in an e-mail to his friend Andrew Sullivan, saying, “In a perfect world, I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business, but I do think there is value in standing up and being counted.”
But until 45 he had resisted being labelled as such and it’s easy to see why.
Forever after, your sexual preference is the most significant part of your public identity. I flinch at the number of “enlightened” people I know who, in describing a friend or business acquaintance, always – always – mention their sexual orientation, but only if they are gay: “My gay friends came for dinner and we had a hoot.” Aren’t they just your “friends?”
I am no longer all that surprised when anyone famous is revealed to be gay. The only time I think it is imperative to note it is if they are being harassed or hypocritical – say, senior politicians who hew to a homophobic agenda and privately enjoy the life.
But how and when or even if you state who you are sexually is an individual’s decision and right.
Sally Ride, immensely gifted, historically important, and focused on making science education attractive – sexy if you will – to kids, lived a wonderfully rich life, personally and publicly.
She chose the time and place of her coming out, knowing it would be significant and controversial. There was a reason that during her lifetime she decided not to be “America’s first lesbian astronaut.” She was so much more than that.
When she soared into space, fans everywhere waved flags emblazoned with “Ride Sally Ride.”
I just parsed the lyrics to the song that sparked that cheer, Wilson Pickett’s sixties hitMustang Sally. As far as I can make out, it’s about a girl with a hot new vehicle who refuses to put out for the guy singing the song. Funny, when you think about it.
Original Article
Source: the globe and mail
Author: JUDITH TIMSON
She was one of nature’s aristocrats – not only a PhD physicist and the first American woman in space (and at 32, the youngest American as well) but also a Shakespeare scholar, a tennis player who could have turned pro, an entrepreneur and an activist. Her company Sally Ride Science paved the way for more girls and young women to make their way to the STEM subjects – science, technology, engineering and math.
With such a dazzling legacy, Dr. Ride’s sexual orientation was certainly the most private and arguably least remarkable thing about her. She chose to keep it a family matter until she died.
Then, in her obituary, in words she helped to write, she had a post-mortem coming out – not as a declaration of who she was, but of who she loved, stating matter-of-factly that she left behind her partner of 27 years, Tam O’Shaugnessy, an author and educator, vice-president of Sally Ride Science and a former pro tennis player.
They were two accomplished women who happened to love each other and who have now ignited a debate in the Twittersphere and beyond about the pros and cons of keeping your gay orientation private instead of waving the flag.
“She had a chance to expand people’s horizons and young lesbians’ hope and self-esteem, and she chose not to,” wrote the usually reliable Daily Beast blogger Andrew Sullivan. “She was the absent heroine.”
Hardly. She was a magnificent heroine who just didn’t see gay rights as “her battle of choice” (science education was), explained her irresistibly named sister, Bear, also a lesbian, who has been much more vocal in the LGBT community.
Perhaps looking for a silver lining in her beloved sister’s early death, Bear added: “The pancreatic cancer community is going to be absolutely thrilled that there’s now this advocate that they didn’t know about. And, I hope the GLBT community feels the same.”
Well, yes, but cheated, too. Think how empowering it could have been to have claimed Sally Ride as one of your own! To have her march with her gloriously curly hair and trim figure in full astronaut regalia in pride parades. And, oh for a time machine, to have had her back in 1983, striding to her spacecraft as “America’s first lesbian astronaut.”
But we all know that never would have happened. The image-crafters at the male-dominated NASA who made household names out of astronauts would have gone with “Houston, we have a BIG problem” and simply not allowed a “queer” woman in space.
Besides, aren’t we conveniently forgetting that in 1982 Sally Ride was actually married to a man, fellow astronaut Steven Hawley? That marriage lasted five years and was obviously part of her emotional and sexual journey.
I loved Bear Ride’s taciturn explanation as to why her profoundly private sister really chose to fly under the public gaydar: “We chalk that up to being Norwegian.” Or as one gay woman I know succinctly put it, “It was her own bloody business!”
Yet while it made sense to her to keep her sexual preference private, we have moved into a new era well beyond don’t ask/don’t tell. Public figures are choosing to come out in different ways now, adding to an ever growing societal acceptance and understanding of homosexuality, and of course of gay marriage, one of the last great civil rights left to be universally validated.
Just last month, CNN anchor Anderson Cooper gracefully came out in an e-mail to his friend Andrew Sullivan, saying, “In a perfect world, I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business, but I do think there is value in standing up and being counted.”
But until 45 he had resisted being labelled as such and it’s easy to see why.
Forever after, your sexual preference is the most significant part of your public identity. I flinch at the number of “enlightened” people I know who, in describing a friend or business acquaintance, always – always – mention their sexual orientation, but only if they are gay: “My gay friends came for dinner and we had a hoot.” Aren’t they just your “friends?”
I am no longer all that surprised when anyone famous is revealed to be gay. The only time I think it is imperative to note it is if they are being harassed or hypocritical – say, senior politicians who hew to a homophobic agenda and privately enjoy the life.
But how and when or even if you state who you are sexually is an individual’s decision and right.
Sally Ride, immensely gifted, historically important, and focused on making science education attractive – sexy if you will – to kids, lived a wonderfully rich life, personally and publicly.
She chose the time and place of her coming out, knowing it would be significant and controversial. There was a reason that during her lifetime she decided not to be “America’s first lesbian astronaut.” She was so much more than that.
When she soared into space, fans everywhere waved flags emblazoned with “Ride Sally Ride.”
I just parsed the lyrics to the song that sparked that cheer, Wilson Pickett’s sixties hitMustang Sally. As far as I can make out, it’s about a girl with a hot new vehicle who refuses to put out for the guy singing the song. Funny, when you think about it.
Original Article
Source: the globe and mail
Author: JUDITH TIMSON
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