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Featured Story: Winter 2009

Persons Indeed

Naomi K. Lewis

On October 19, 1929, Canada's national newspaper announced gender inequality was dead. The day before, Lord Chancellor John Sankey of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in London had declared women "persons," and therefore potential "qualified persons,"-a requirement for senators under the British North America Act.

The exclusion of women from all public office is a relic of days more barbarous than ours," Sankey declared. The last institutionalized obstacle between women and politics was defunct.

The Globe and Mail filled its sixth page with news of the Persons Case verdict, and in a second story, "Women Delighted to Hear Decision of Privy Council: Tribute Paid Dauntless Group Who Carried the Day," imagined a young girl reading the news on the bus telling her friend, "Privy Council finds women are persons.... Well, aren't they smart-I wonder what they thought we were?"

The story imagines the world of the young woman's adulthood: "She will see women senators accepted as a matter of course, and will give little thought to those who made it possible."

The story predicted wrongly that its "dauntless group" would disappear into obscurity-that group, which had represented the country's women, was of course Edmonton's own Emily Murphy and her Albertan cronies, Henrietta Edwards, Nellie McClung, Louise McKinney, and Irene Parlby, since dubbed the Famous Five.

According to Robert J. Sharpe and Patricia I. McMahon in The Persons Case: The Origins and Legacy of the Fight for Legal Personhood, the five weren't so famous until the 1970s, but today they are firmly entrenched in Alberta and Canada's history as pioneers and heroes, featured on a Millennium Series postage stamp and on the "Nation Builders" 50-dollar bill, and as subjects of monuments in Ottawa and Calgary.

October 18, 2009, marked 80 years since the Persons Case was decided, which leads to the questions: What lasting legacy has the Persons Case left in Alberta, and how close are we to the world of the Globe's bus-riding emancipated woman? Who better to ask than three female politicians in Alberta's Legislative Assembly today?

Cabinet minister and Progressive Conservative MLA Iris Evans remembers learning about the Famous Five when living in a rental house with her three young sons, in the seventies. She was moved that the Five celebrated "the home and raising children, but they also celebrated that as women we were souls with very much the right for sharing responsibilities and sharing a role in policy development."

Evans, as a now-67-year-old Albertan, grew up in a milieu that still considered women primarily stewards of the home. She credits her father with giving her "the greatest gift of all," in that he, "as a man," never expected anything less from her because she was female. But although her parents never considered Evans' nursing education "something to fall back on" in case a wifely life didn't work out, she was acutely aware that many people did. And the Famous Five were already combating such attitudes in 1929, Evans notes.

"They were the ultimate dreamers that women could have it all-deserved-to have it all."

Evans, for one, does seem to have it all. She entered politics in 1977, when she was 34 and her youngest of three children was eight. She began with a school trusteeship, spent 18 years in municipal politics, and was the first female reeve of an Alberta county. She was elected MLA of Sherwood Park in 1997, and has held portfolios including Municipal Affairs, Children's Services, Health and Wellness, Employment, Immigration and Industry, and now Finance and Enterprise.

"I consider myself as a female and a lady," she says, when asked if she's a feminist. "I think you can be a persuasive female or male by living your life to be as well lived as possible. And I think that's our privilege and responsibility."

Liberal MLA Laurie Blakeman, like Evans, remembers when she first discovered the details of the Famous Five legacy, in her case through research she conducted for the 60th anniversary of the Persons Case, as executive director of the Advisory Council on Women's Issues. Blakeman was an activist in many domains, and figured she'd have the problem of gender equality solved in time to retire and enjoy a few decades of leisure.

"I was gobsmacked to find out the ages [the Famous Five] were by the time they accomplished [bringing the Persons Case before the Privy Council]," she recalls. "They were, some of them, well into their 80s." It takes a long time to change policy, she realized, and you've got to keep at it. "So suck it up, princess," she told herself. And she did. One of her many accomplishments is the triumphant 12-year struggle to legalize and legitimize midwifery.

Declaring herself a feminist "absolutely, unrepentantly, militantly, and forever-and proud of it," Blakeman notes she is defined that way from the outside, often by those who would demean her.

"I ... see inequalities," she says unapologetically. "I do see that public policy disproportionately affects women, and I would like to see that corrected. So I will work towards that."

New Democrat MLA Rachel Notley also says she is identified as a feminist by others, and embraces the term, though she sees herself as a socialist first and foremost. The Famous Five legacy, she says, was to erase from the books the last law that institutionalized social inequality between men and women.
But she stresses that formal equality certainly didn't translate into true equality. It still doesn't, she says-in politics or in any area.

Notley, whose background is in labour law, was elected in 2008, and is one of two New Democrat MLAs in the province. As the daughter of the late Grant Notley, who served as NDP leader from 1968 to 1984, she surely knew she'd have her work cut out for her as a socialist in Canada's conservative mecca; on top of that, she is a woman in a political structure she says was designed by and for men.

It's shocking how basic the fight for dignity can still be-in June, Notley demanded an apology from Tory MLA Doug Elniski for inane remarks on his blog and Twitter account, including advice to young girls to avoid scowling in front of men, something incoherent about a bikini car wash, and the now infamous "equal comes in little packages at Starbucks" line.

And the problem is not limited to thuggish sexist attitudes. Notley asks us to simply look at the statistics. "Who's making decisions? What's the breakdown of men versus women? Who's in impoverished groups?" All those measures show a disparity, she says, and it's never women who come out ahead.

Her words echo those of Nellie McClung 80 years ago: "Women are enfranchised but not emancipated." Just how much have things changed since then? Looking back a century, Emily Murphy was not simply a judge; she was a "women's judge."

Irene Parlby, the first female cabinet minister in Alberta and the second in the British Empire, was known as the "women's minister." Not surprising, considering their mere presence stood in radical opposition to the status quo. The Globe and Mail's 1929 women's reporter implied that status quo would change utterly, within one generation, but here we are in 2009, and Blakeman, for one, has been undeniably singled out and demeaned on gendered grounds in the legislature. Who could forget when, in 2004, Environment Minister Lorne Taylor called her a "water witch"? She guesses about half the people approach her as a politician, and half as a "woman politician."

Evans, as the only woman on a town council, says she felt "very much like I was unique and at time striving... harder than anyone else to bring my points across." But she is hopeful that in her political role today she usually transcends gender, which she says is "not really worthy of consideration." The onus is partly on female politicians, she adds, to behave with dignity and to dress modestly. "You put your issues forward as you wish [your male colleagues] would... and you deal with them with respect."

But look at the distribution of women in politics, Notley argues. "How many female prime ministers have we had? How many female premiers do we have? How many female cabinet ministers do we have, and what role are they put into?" She is pleased to see Evans as the province's finance minister, but stresses that such a position is exceptional. Most female ministers end up with traditional "women's issues."

Evans, who has indeed escaped gender-casting, both in the Klein and Stelmach governments, rolls her eyes at the thought of female politicians being handed "soft-side issues." She recalls with disgust how her mother sat on the Fort McLeod town council from 1981-1986, hoping to get the community's infrastructure properly built; instead, she was saddled with the SPCA. Gender just shouldn't come into play during such delegations, Evans stresses.

Whether "women's issues" exist at all is a complex question. No one these days would likely argue, as the Famous Five did, that women's innate maternal know-how and men's lack thereof were precisely why politics needed both genders, but Blakeman and Notley both acknowledge they're more likely to advocate for causes that "disproportionately affect 52 per cent of the population" as Blakeman puts it; her fight to have midwifery covered by health care is a case in point, and the Alberta NDP's website declares Notley "your voice on Women's Equality."

Women's issues will exist until the historical, societal gender imbalance is corrected. "But I think there's also an understanding that it's not a women's issue," Blakeman adds. "It's a societal issue.... It affects everybody's productivity; it affects everybody's taxes... not to mention the next generation."

Notley says she wouldn't dismiss out of hand the idea that women and men have, on average, different strengths, but thinks it's a dangerous idea used to marginalize women, and to keep people of both sexes pigeon-holed.

"Many men would make brilliant ministers for Children and Family Services," she says, echoing both Evans and Blakeman-Blakeman says that's the one position she would never accept because the pressure, as a woman, to harness one's innate maternal powers and save the world is intolerable-and, Notley adds, "Women would be brilliant premiers and ministers of the Treasury Board."

But these are problems faced by women already elected. If the Famous Five could see Alberta now, they would likely be amazed by the progress society has made in treating women as true persons, even in ways they couldn't have imagined and may not approve of. But they might be dismayed to see that women comprise only 21 per cent of politicians in the Canadian government at every level, and, only 15.5 per cent in the Alberta Legislative Assembly.

What keeps so many qualified, able women out of politics altogether-and all three MLAs agree on this one-involves a social structure that dissuades mothers with young children from entering politics, a financial structure that further dissuades women embarking on a political career after a few years of stay-at-home childrearing, and a set of attitudes and assumptions that keeps female contenders from being elected, deterring many from even trying.

"As part of societal maturation," Evans says, many women pursue policy making, but more often in the private sector than in government. That's largely because, after staying at home with children and often making significant financial sacrifices to do so, women and their families are not prepared to take the financial risk associated with running for politics.

"Most men haven't had an interruption to their careers due to childrearing, so they can take more risks," Evans adds.

And after spending time out of the workforce, Notley says, women haven't paid "the dues that the traditional male path requires." That traditional male path also requires putting in 70 hours per week, and is modelled on the traditional nuclear family, with its full-time mother.

Evans recalls, in her 30s, rushing home most evenings to prepare supper before going to meetings. She considered running for federal politics, but couldn't bear the thought of going to Ottawa, and leaving her children for months at a time. Notley has young children and a husband who does a huge portion of the childcare, and she points out that, societal pressures aside, she misses her children when the legislature is in session, and wants to spend time with them, wants to be a good parent.

Blakeman doesn't have children herself, but understands why it's so difficult to recruit women with young children; and she has often dedicated herself to trying. She notes with frustration that she's missed her 13-year-old niece's birthday party every single year.

When the opposition was stronger, Blakeman pushed to get rid of night sittings, to make the whole process more family-friendly, she adds, "but once the Tories got a bigger majority, night sittings crept back in."

And beyond financial and family concerns, Blakeman says, it's a fact that women have a harder time raising campaign money than men do, raising the first barrier to winning a nomination.

Parties should be granted money for each vote they get, she says.
"Second, we need parliamentary reform," she continues. "Hours of work, embracing and integrating the limitations of family life, the actual operation of the House business, minimizing the aggression, name calling and general divisiveness. Who in their right mind would willingly go to work in a situation any observer would describe as workplace bullying? Our own Speaker describes it as a blood sport."

Evans believes that, once nominated, a woman has to work harder than her male opponent since people in general are more inclined to vote for men because of what she calls a natural attraction to the "father figure" in positions of authority.

She adds that schools, faith communities, and childcare centres need to guide girls into leadership positions, as they already do for boys as a matter of course.

Notley cites the British Columbia NDP's policy that requires nominating a person of whatever gender has been underrepresented, but Evans argues women's long-time disadvantage is no excuse to turn around and disadvantage men.

"I would never vote for a women because she was woman," Evans adds. "I'd vote for the best candidate."

Notley stresses that over the last 15 or 20 years, Alberta has actually increased the disparities not only between men and women in politics, but also between the sexes in general, and between the rich and the poor. It's possible to make social changes that close those gaps immensely, she says, citing the socialist policies of Scandinavian countries, but "as long as we continue to embrace Conservative approaches ... those who have power will continue to maintain it."

But the socialist set-up of Scandinavian countries is not so idyllic, Evans counters. Albertans-and many Scandinavians, too, she ventures-are not ready to accept the sky-high taxes and many inconveniences that come with socialism. Alberta is a conservative province for a reason: this is what the people want. She agrees that, ideally, there should be gender parity at all levels of government, but doesn't see it happening any time soon.

Measures that would really help, Evans says, include better financial incentives for women to stay home with their children, so they don't come out the tail end desperate for a stable-and therefore not political-career.

And, she stresses, "Society has to pay more attention ... to the influence they can bring to bear in the political realm." Corporations should give people leaves to pursue political goals, she suggests. "People shouldn't feel compromised by taking a detour from their lives to take part in politics."

Volunteer, she adds. Get involved. Too many people think they're doing their part simply by writing a cheque.

Blakeman says, hopefully, that female politicians in different parties agree on what should happen, but disagree on how to get there. Perhaps it's a good sign that women in today's legislature can voice disagreements as marked as their common ground. The Famous Five disagreed, too, but banded together for a cause that affected them all more profoundly than any of the issues that divided them-which included such "trifles" as immigration policies and eugenics. In a true democracy, "women's issues" will be human issues, and "female politicians" will be politicians, no more required to band together than their male counterparts.

Is it too optimistic to imagine a young girl on the bus setting this issue of Legacy aside to forge ahead into a world that will welcome her run for prime minister, and not as spectacle or novelty? If we take Blakeman's advice, and incorporate the Famous Five's "underlying stamina and vigilance and fierceness" into our own lives, perhaps our young girl stands a good chance.

Winter 2009
Complete Contents of Current Issue

After 14 years, Winter 2009 is our 56th issue of Legacy and our last.

As Legacy's publisher/editor/owner, I have been fortunate to work with remarkable people. My sincere thanks to our thoughtful associate publisher Gurston Dacks and encouraging business psychiatrist/music columnist Ron Chalmers. To talented, remarkable designer Mark Dutton. To patient general managers Mary Oakwell, Liz Grieve, and Yoko Sekiya; and determined ad sales manager Andrea Kopylech. And to two of the best, most sensitive associate editors, Eva Radford and Naomi Lewis. Thank you, also, to the Alberta Historical Resources Foundation for supporting school subscriptions and to Enbridge, Elly de Jongh, and Melcor Developments for public library subscriptions. To the Alberta Foundation for the Arts for editorial support. And to our committed advertisers and many loyal readers.

I have looked forward each issue to wonderfully written columns by Paula Simons, Sid Marty, Ron Chalmers, Laurie Greenwood, Johanne Yakula, Dorothy Field, Gordon Morash, and Patricia Myers. And to beautifully crafted prose and poetry by well-known and emerging writers alike.

But I have decided that Legacy's own story will conclude now. Indeed, it has been fun. Thank you all beyond words.

Barb Dacks, Publisher