Archives for category: Equality
Bassett Medical Bag

Doctor’s Bag, 1890-1910, leather, glass bottles, corks, metal, H: 5 x W: 8.75 x D: 2.125 in. Fenimore Art Museum, Cooperstown, New York, Gift of The Mary Imogene Bassett Hospital, N0008.2002.

Measuring 5 inches high, 8 ¾ inches wide, and 2 inches thick (only slightly bigger than a women’s wallet) this unassuming leather satchel saved lives. Dr. Mary Imogene Bassett owned this medical bag, currently housed in the Doctor’s Office at The Farmers’ Museum [1]. Working in central New York from the 1890s until her death in 1922, this medical bag gave Dr. Bassett the freedom of a career, the freedom of medical choice, and the freedom of movement.

Dr. Bassett’s medical bag illustrates her independence within the male-dominated medical field. In 1887, Dr. Mary Imogene Bassett graduated from the Woman’s Medical College of Pennsylvania [2]. Six years later, she partnered with her father to work at the family’s general practice in Cooperstown. When her father died in 1905, Dr. Bassett took the initiative and continued the practice alone – she saw a need in her rural surroundings and she filled it, despite the barriers she came across. Between 1890 and 1920, the national average percentage of Women Physicians only grew from 4.4% to 5.0% [3]. At a time when the few female doctors were limited to treating women patients, Dr. Bassett chose to work independently in a rural area where she could serve anyone.

Dr. Bassett’s medical bag could carry up to 36 different vials. With the majority of the bottles measuring around 2 inches tall, there was a limited amount of space. However, the numerous vials let Dr. Bassett to bring a variety of medicines to her patients, giving her the choices and resources needed to attend to a range of diseases.

The medical bag’s compact size also allowed Dr. Bassett to transport the necessary medicine to her patients in central New York. She could make house calls and bring the medical attention to her remote patients, despite the rural setting. Dr. Bassett’s medical bag characterizes her independence because she was free from the physical and institutional constraints of a hospital; it let her go where she was needed.

The legacy of Mary Imogene Bassett and her dedication endures today. Founded in 1922, The Mary Imogene Bassett Hospital picked up where Dr. Bassett left off, and continues caring for patients across rural central New York to this day.

 

Post Written by Elizabeth Kapp

[1] Doctor’s Bag, Fenimore Art Museum Collections, S Museum, N0008.2002, Documentation.

[2] “History,” Bassett Healthcare Network, accessed March 24, 2018. https://www.bassett.org/information/about-us/history/

[3] Mary Roth Walsh, “Doctors Wanted: No Women Need Apply:” Sexual Barriers in the Medical Profession, 1835–1975 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1977) 185.

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Above: Front of 1910 Suffragette Madonna, 1910, paper stock, H: 14 x W: 9 cm, Cooperstown Graduate Program, Cooperstown, New York, Teaching Collection, T2015.045f. Photograph by Christian Stegall.

This irreverent postcard is best understood as part of a wave of postcard popularity. This powerful piece of propaganda discouraged women’s suffrage by using mockery and saying that women voting would result in men losing their masculinity.

It is not surprising that this postcard is creased, considering that it is from 1910. But it is likely that it was already somewhat damaged at the time it was first sent. The anti-suffrage image is effective as propaganda precisely because it is a postcard, a semi-public object that is handled by multiple people.

Today, we use postcards as souvenirs. Twenty-first century people generally buy them only when they are traveling. In the first quarter of the twentieth century, though, people sent and collected every imaginable kind of postcard. While some wealthier people had extensive collections, this visual medium was also cheap and accessible to the working class [1]. The “golden age” of postcards was from the year of the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893, up until 1918 as World War I came to an end [2]. A fine example is this this self-referential postcard (held at Newberry Library) that depicts a woman looking at her postcard collection.

The “Suffragette Madonna” postcard arose during that wave of popularity. It mocked the struggle for women’s voting rights in the early 1900s by showing a man in the style of the ideal female: the Virgin Mary. In the early twentieth century, many considered it inappropriate for women to act in the public ways, including voting. At the same time, as this postcard shows, it was silly and emasculating for a man to be associated with childcare. The caption on the postcard says “Crop of 1910.” The postcard designer was saying that the man in the image was just one of a much larger “crop” of feminine men who thought women should be able to vote.

A New York postcard maker called the Dunston Weiler Lithograph Company made a series of 12 postcards that included a nearly identical Suffragette Madonna postcard, as well as other ones:

Above: Suffragette Series No. 1: Suffragette Madonna, and No. 2: Suffragette Copette, 1909, Dunston-Weiler Lithograph Company, New York, paper stock, H: 14 x W: 9 cm, University of Northern Iowa, Cedar Falls, Iowa, Catherine H. Palczewski Postcard Archive.

 

The series by Dunston Weiler included mocking images of a feminine Uncle Sam and a police officer (“Suffrage Coppette”) [3]. And so, even to someone who didn’t understand or appreciate the subtle religious jab at Catholic symbolism, the Suffragette Madonna postcard successfully functioned simply as a humorous image. To many, the postcard of a man performing domestic duties was just as ludicrous as a police officer wielding a rolling pin.

As scholar of communication studies Catherine Palczewski writes, the imagery on this postcard visually expressed an idea that wasn’t in the verbal arguments around women’s suffrage during the early twentieth century [4]. The fact that this postcard exists in 2017 – unlike ephemeral spoken conversation – ensures that we don’t forget this controversial debate.

[1] John Fraser, “Propaganda on the Picture Postcard,” Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 3, no. 2. (October 1980), 39.
[2] Catherine H. Palczewski, “The Male Madonna and the Feminine Uncle Sam: Visual Argument, Icons, and Ideographs in 1909 Anti-Woman Suffrage Postcards,” Quarterly Journal of Speech Vol. 91, no. 4 (November 2005), 365, whole article 365-394].
[3] Palczewski, 370.
[4] Palczewski, 387.

 

Rosa Gallagher

safety bike

Bicycle, Safety, 1898-1905, iron, metal, wood, rubber, L: 72 x H: 44.5 x D: 30 in. The Farmers’ Museum, Cooperstown, New York, Gift of the Rochester Historical Society, F0939.1946.

Anyone who has seen an old-fashioned bicycle, with one giant wheel and one tiny one, and wondered how anyone could balance on it, can see why bike riders in the late nineteenth century preferred the newly-developed safety bicycle, with its equally-sized wheels. This change in bicycle design had far-reaching consequences for gender roles and political activism. Before the safety bicycle, cycling was a masculine activity; the design of older bicycles made it difficult for women to ride due to their long skirts. Women were also expected to spend their time in the home, not in public. Once the safety bicycle was invented, women in skirts could balance on a bicycle easily.[1] Women began to ride in droves in the 1890s, many reveling in their new-found freedom. Women were able to travel farther on their own and broaden their horizons.

 

However, this did not mean that bicycling was not still a gendered activity, as this particular model from The Farmer’s Museum’s collection reveals. Although men’s and women’s safety bicycles had similar designs, there was a clear difference between them. This safety bike was made by Radio Sporting Goods in Rochester, NY, between 1898 and 1905, at the height of the bicycle’s popularity. It was most likely owned by a man because it has a diamond frame. Most bikes for women lacked a bar at the top, as this one does. A bicycle with a “step-through” frame allowed women in skirts to ride more easily.[2]

 

ladies_safety_bicycles1889

A Ladies Safety Bicycle (Photo Courtesy Wikipedia Commons)

Although it would have been difficult to ride this safety bicycle in a skirt, it was possible for a women wearing bloomers to ride it. Some bicycle manufacturers marketed bicycles with diamond frames to women who wore bloomers.[3] Because of the bicycle craze in the 1890s, bloomers became popular among women.[4] Some men worried that women who wanted to wear pants would want other prerogatives that had traditionally been reserved for men.[5] Even those women who rode bicycles in skirts were seen as “new women,” who rejected traditional gender roles. Riding a bicycle gave women more control over their own lives. Cycling was also a political statement, particularly if a woman was riding a bicycle with a diamond frame.

 

Those who supported and opposed women’s suffrage linked safety bicycles to women’s participation in the public sphere.[6] Because they enabled women to travel more freely and on their own, suffragettes wrote that bicycles led to female empowerment. The popular book, Bicycling for Ladies, by M.E. Ward, stated that “riding the wheel, our own powers are revealed to us… you are continually being called upon to judge and to determine points that before have not needed your consideration, and consequently you become more alert, active, quick-sighted and keenly alive as well to the rights of others as to what is due yourself.”[7] The increased independence that bicycles afforded to women made it possible for them to leave the private sphere and demand increased rights and opportunities in the public sphere.

By Emma Glaser

[1] Ellen Gruber Garvey, “Reframing the Bicycle: Advertising-Supported Magazines and Scorching Women,” American Quarterly 47, no. 1 (March 1996): 67-69.

[2] Steven E. Alford and Suzanne Ferriss, An Alternative History of Bicycles and Motorcycles: Two-Wheeled Transportation and Material Culture (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2016), 51-52.

[3] Garvey, “Reframing the Bicycle,” 69.

[4] Antonia Petrash, More than Petticoats: Remarkable New York Women (Guilford: TwoDot, 2001), 60.

[5] Patricia Marks, Bicycles, Bangs, and Bloomers: The New Woman in the Popular Press (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1990), 191, 193.

[6] Erin Russell, “That’s No Ordinary Bicycle!: A Safety Bicycle and Women’s Suffrage” (Cooperstown Graduate Program, SUNY Oneonta, 2017), 6.

[7] M.E. Ward, Bicycling for Ladies (New York: Brentano’s, 1896), 12-13.