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The Pioneers
At a time when women could not yet vote, and it was
unthinkable for elite eastern men’s colleges to admit women as undergrads, Yale
opened its doors to female graduate students. In 1894, seven remarkable
scholars became the first women to earn Yale PhDs.
September/October 2012
by Liena Vayzman ’02PhD, Ruth Vaughan ’09MAR, and Laura Wexler
Liena Vayzman ’02PhD and Ruth Vaughan ’09MAR recently served as postdoctoral/postgraduate associates with the Yale Women
Faculty Forum (WFF). Laura Wexler is a Yale professor
of American studies and of women’s, gender, and sexuality studies and recent cochair of WFF. Their research on
Yale’s first female PhDs was undertaken for WFF.
“Identical education of the two sexes is a crime before
God and humanity.”
—from Sex in Education: A Fair Chance for the
Girls (1873), by retired Harvard medical professor Edward H. Clarke
“To throw obstacles in the way of a complete education
is like putting out the eyes.”
—Elizabeth Cady Stanton, testifying before Congress in
1892
Starting after the Civil War, gaining momentum in the 1870s, and reaching full force around 1890, a national push
toward coeducation changed US history and the lives of millions of women. One
of the critical points on that trajectory was the arrival of the first female
graduate students at Yale, 120 years ago in the fall of 1892.
Yale was a latecomer to women’s education. The earliest
proponents of higher education for women, such as Oberlin, Antioch, and Bates,
had already been educating female college students for several generations.
Between 1870 and 1900, US college enrollment boomed, and women’s enrollment
most of all: the female college population grew eightfold, from 11,000 to
85,000—or from 21 to 35 percent of the total. Women’s colleges proliferated;
Vassar was established early, in 1865, Smith and Wellesley in 1875, Spelman in
1881. An 1885 survey identified many coeducational institutions, including
Boston University and land grant universities in Iowa, California, Minnesota,
Kansas, and Indiana.
In the face of this trend, the New
York Times observed delicately in March 1892, “there has long been a
feeling, which has frequently found expression, that the superior educational
facilities at Yale should not be entirely denied to women seekers after
knowledge.” The fine arts were, already, generally considered appropriate for
women; Yale’s art and music schools were both coeducational when they opened,
the art school in 1869 and the music school in 1894. But academic programs at
Yale did not grant degrees to women. (The single exception: Alice Rufie Blake Jordan ’86JD had
applied to Yale Law School using her initials instead of her first name. Having
admitted her, the school allowed her to attend, but added a new rule expressly
banning future female students.) And Yale was hardly alone in its attitude to
coeducation. The elite old schools of the East, including Harvard, Princeton,
and Columbia, had all resisted admitting women. But the public debate over
graduate education for women surged in the years after 1889, as Cornell
historian Margaret Rossiter has shown. Women in
academia made it a rallying point and a goal, and books and articles on the
subject started appearing regularly.
During 1890–92, women were officially admitted to
graduate study in at least five major US universities. Both Stanford and the
University of Chicago had full coeducation from the moment they opened their
doors, in 1891 and 1892. Columbia and Brown admitted women to their graduate
schools and added separate women’s colleges. Yale too briefly considered
establishing a “woman’s annex” for college students but rejected the idea.
Instead, Yale admitted women to graduate study only.
There was no question of full coeducation at Yale
College itself, whose students and alumni treasured its all-male social
life—“the famous ‘Yale spirit,’” as one newspaper put it. But admitting women
to graduate study was more palatable: the Graduate School was less than a tenth
the size of the college and less celebrated; it didn’t have a building of its
own until 1892. Moreover, because graduate study is specialized, it was
relatively easy for professors to avoid teaching female graduate students if
they wanted to. Admitting women as graduate students, a Yale professor assured
the Times in March 1892, would not “commit the members of either the academic or
scientific departments… of the university to coeducation in any sense.” Old
school alliances, forged by the special undergraduate “Yale spirit,” could
continue undisturbed. Yale College would not become coed until 1969.
Nevertheless, for an elite eastern university to make
this move was a breakthrough. Yale had seemed “the last place in the world to
expect such a change,” the Boston Evening Transcript declared. Harper’s Magazine saw it as a step toward full
co-education and even, eventually, women’s suffrage. “Venerable Yale, even
before venerable Harvard,” wrote the editor, “recognizes that in a modern world
of larger and juster views, which permits women to
use every industrial faculty to the utmost, … it is useless longer to insist
with chivalry that woman is a goddess ‘too bright and good’” for education.
In all, 20 women enrolled as Yale graduate students in
the fall of 1892. They endured “open hostility” on campus, the Boston
Evening Transcript reported. They were caricatured in undergraduate
magazines and plays, and “many professors… made no secret of the fact that they
did not desire the attendance of the women students at their lectures and
recitations.”
But among those who stayed, many triumphed. Yale
professor A. S. Cook was the editor of a scholarly series called Yale
Studies in English; by 1898, he had published six volumes, of which
five were written by women. And the first seven women to earn PhDs at
Yale—graduating in 1894, in a class of 21—went on to careers that included
professorships at top women’s colleges and scholarly contributions in the
sciences, literary studies, and women’s rights.
Their education even before Yale had prepared them
well; in some cases, Yale family connections mark them as a privileged class.
Like many women of the time who entered professions, they either did not want,
or no longer fit into, the standard domestic arrangements: none of them
married, though at least one had a long romantic partnership with another
woman. In their professional lives, they were highly able, active scholars
whose accomplishments were trailblazing.
Yale has not yet officially commemorated these seven
pioneers. In fact, the Yale archives have no images of any of them except
Elizabeth Deering Hanscom—whose
last name, coming first alphabetically among the seven women, made her the
Graduate School’s official first female graduate. The Yale Women Faculty Forum
will soon commission a group portrait of all seven women to hang in Sterling
Memorial Library. We have also collected their biographies, and we offer
excerpts here—to celebrate their achievements, to help restore their place of
honor in Yale’s history, and to give all alumni and alumnae a glimpse of some
remarkable fellow Yale graduates.  |
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