Cold Open

It’s January 15th, 1968 inside an upscale hotel in Washington D.C.

Kathie Sarachild weaves through a crowded lobby until she reaches a pair of double doors leading to the hotel’s convention hall. Kathie curiously peers into the room. It’s filled with women who are preparing for a peaceful march against the Vietnam War. Led by Jeannette Rankin, the octogenarian powerhouse who made history as the first woman ever elected to the U.S. Congress, this coalition of female protestors has earned the moniker the “Jeannette Rankin Brigade.” But Kathie is not here to join the Brigade. After taking one last glimpse into the convention hall, Kathie hurries across the corridor to instead meet with a group of young women clad in funeral attire. They furtively glance from one side to the other... before slipping into a room adjacent to the convention hall.

Inside, more young women are already standing in clusters, engaged in animated discussions at odds with their somber black clothing. They greet Kathie with warm smiles as she makes her way to the center of the room, where an open casket is placed. Kathie looks inside, and a life-sized female effigy with impeccably styled blonde curls stares vacantly back at her.

Kathie is part of the New York Radical Women, a new-age feminist group that, for their first public action, has organized an alternative protest to the Jeannette Rankin Brigade. The New York Radical Women object to the Brigade's strategy of protesting the war in their conventional roles as passive, grieving mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters of American soldiers. Instead, these young activists are advocating their right to protest as active, independent citizens. And in this spirit, they have staged a mock funeral to theatrically demonstrate the burial of what they’re calling “Traditional Womanhood.”

Kathie rummages inside her bag, retrieving a banner emblazoned with the words “Don’t Cry: Resist”. As she attaches the banner to the side of the casket, a wave of applause sweeps through the room. The New York Radical Women gather around the coffin, hoisting it up on their shoulders. Then, Kathie leads the procession out of the room and across the corridor, a stony-faced marching band following close behind. Kathie solemnly walks through the double doors of the convention hall, and the startled crowd within parts to make way for the procession.

Once the entourage reaches the front of the hall, the group reverently sets the coffin down. Then, with the puzzled Jeanette Rankin Brigade looking on, Kathie steps toward a nearby microphone, her confident gaze sweeping across the hall, as she readies herself to deliver an address that will help mobilize a movement.

Though the New York Radical Women’s funeral of traditional womanhood will be a relatively small affair, its theatrics and symbolism will be powerful in drumming up publicity and support for their cause. Kathie’s riveting speech about the need for women to shatter society’s molds will captivate the convention hall. Moved by her words, a group of 500 women from the Jeannette Rankin Brigade will join the New York Radical Women, curious to learn about their cause. And this will affirm that the New York Radical Women's beliefs are widely shared by women across America who all desire greater rights and equality. And, as the New York Radical Women will ponder how to further popularize the burgeoning women’s liberation movement, they will turn again to theatrical demonstrations, staging their next explosive protest outside the Miss America pageant on September 7th, 1968.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is September 7th, 1968: Radical Feminists Protest Miss America.

Act One

It’s the summer of 1968 in New York City.

A handful of women are scattered across the living room of a modest apartment, glued to the television. As clips of Miss America contestants walking down the ramp in their bathing suits flash across the screen, Carol Hanisch indignantly leans forward in her seat to get a closer look.

Carol and her companions are members of the New York Radical Women.

After announcing their existence through the theatrical demonstration at the Jeannette Rankin Peace Parade, the New York Radical Women returned home invigorated. The group began holding regular meetings, engaging in passionate discussions about how to channel their frustrations with the patriarchy. After meeting night after night in members’ living rooms, the group began sharing personal experiences of oppression with one another. On hearing the stories of other women in the group, they began to identify the numerous sinister social, political, and economic structures that they felt relegated women to secondary roles in society. While some Americans consider women liberated already because they’ve been granted the right to vote, the New York Radical Women argue that they have far more rights to fight for, and many more vehicles of oppression to fight against.

A popular subject of discussion is the nation’s beauty standards. Today, the group is watching an art film that contrasts the messy realities of a woman’s domestic life to the manicured ideals of beauty portrayed by the media and perpetuated by traditions like the popular Miss America pageant.

Originally, Miss America began as the Inter-City Beauty Contest in 1921. Women and girls who won so-called “popularity contests” in cities across the United States converged on Atlantic City, New Jersey where they were judged on their personality and appearance. The competition proved so popular with the crowd that another element was promptly introduced: the bathing suit contest. With its four categories – swimsuit, evening gown, intellect, and personality – the pageant became an annual tradition that grew into the established institution known as Miss America.

Since then the pageant has become a beloved television event for many Americans who see it as a celebration of femininity. But Carol is disturbed that a show which judges women on their appearances is being broadcast across the country, shaping the perceptions and concept of beauty in young minds.

After the art film ends, she and her fellow members of the New York Radical Women discuss the sexist media programming that influenced them when they were growing up. And unsurprisingly, “Miss America” is a common theme.

Carol listens intently as many of the women recall spending time and money trying to live up to the ideals glorified by the pageant — wearing scratchy bras, tight girdles, and uncomfortably high heels, but still, they never quite felt like they looked good enough. It’s clear to Carol that the pageant has played a part in cementing restrictive standards of beauty for young women. And, as their discussion continues, an idea begins to form in her mind.

The New York Radical Women have been searching for a chance to introduce their new interpretation of feminism to the American public, and Carol thinks she might have found the perfect opportunity. Nearly breathless with excitement, Carol suggests that the group organize a demonstration against the upcoming Miss America pageant, adding that the protest would create a valuable platform to raise awareness about the new-age feminist movement.

Her proposal sparks extensive deliberation within the group. Two schools of thought soon emerge: one that believes that the New York Radical Women should conduct a complete theoretical analysis of Miss America before making a decision to protest against it; and the other, which thinks the pageant is patently offensive, and is ready to dive right into organizing and staging a demonstration.

Eventually, the women advocating for direct action win the debate.

The group rushes to obtain a legal permit for their demonstration. They order buses to transport protestors from New York to Atlantic City. And, in the weeks leading up to the pageant, they issue a manifesto outlining ten reasons for their protest, including, Miss America’s support for the Vietnam War by sending contestants to rally troops; the consumerist nature of the corporate sponsorships in the pageant; the lack of racial diversity among the contestants; and the elevation of traditional beauty as a measure of a woman’s worth.

Their weeks of preparation will turn the demonstration into the biggest protest the New York Radical Women has ever staged. But nothing will quite prepare the group for the overwhelming response they will receive on the day of the pageant.

Act Two

It’s the sunny morning of September 7th, 1986 inside a noisy bus en route to Atlantic City, New Jersey.

Robin Morgan stands at the front of the crowded vehicle, her hands clasped together in nervous anticipation. Robin is one of the members of the New York Radical Women who supported the idea of protesting against Miss America. But still, she’s nervous.

After weeks of frantic preparation, the day of the demonstration has finally arrived. A sizable contingent of protesters assembled at Union Square earlier today, and a chartered bus is now driving them to the Atlantic City Boardwalk, just outside the pageant’s venue. The protestors are enthusiastically singing parodied jingles penned especially for the occasion, with hooks like, “Ain’t she sweet, making profit of her meat!”

Their spirit is contagious, but Robin still isn’t sure what to expect from today’s demonstration. She hopes that it will make a splash and even spark a national conversation, but she worries it could fall flat – maybe they haven’t organized this well enough, maybe they should have waited another year, maybe not enough women will show up.

But Robin’s fears are put to rest when they pull up in Atlantic City. As the wooden flats of the boardwalk finally come into view, she sees hundreds of women who have already arrived, pumping their fists in the air, holding banners, and chanting slogans. Robin’s hands instinctively rise up to her face in surprise, tears of exhilaration streaming down her cheeks as the bus slows down.

Without even waiting for the vehicle to come to a full stop, Robin hurriedly hops off, eager to get involved. She joins a group of protestors standing beside a garbage bin with the words “Freedom Trash Can” emblazoned on its side. They encourage women passing by to discard any item that has served as an “instrument of female torture”. Robin smiles as diapers, mascara, dishwashing detergent, fake eyelashes, garters, hair curlers, and bras are all tossed inside the Freedom Trash Can.

Farther ahead, another demonstration draws a curious crowd. A live sheep sporting a “Miss America” sash is being paraded up and down the boardwalk, emphasizing the feminists’ argument that the pageant judges women in a manner akin to animals at a county fair. The volunteer leading the sheep on a leash is holding a sign to remind any passersby that women are individuals; not toys, pets, or mascots.

Elsewhere, protesters erect a life-size marionette of Miss America dressed in a red, white, and blue bathing suit with grotesque chains twisted around her waist. The metaphor is obvious - women are being sold as puppets to consumerist organizations who reinforce unrealistic beauty standards. They march across the wooden walkway, loudly affirming that the marionette has all the stereotypically positive traits of a woman and she’s ready to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Robin makes her rounds of the boardwalk, distributing leaflets to the growing crowd of both men and women that has stopped to watch these and other demonstrations. Some of the men in the crowd heartily cheer the protestors on, while others hurl ugly insults. But their jeers only add fuel to the protesters’ fire, spurring them on to be even louder. And Robin is gratified when several of the silent wives and girlfriends of these irate men reappear later in the day, alone, to join the demonstration themselves.

Robin is also delighted to see several female journalists milling about the boardwalk — the New York Radical Women prohibited male reporters from interviewing the protestors, thus giving underrepresented women journalists a chance to cover a significant news story. And as these reporters document the details of the action, the protestors have one last trick up their sleeve.

The New York Radical Women have planned for a small group of activists to enter the Boardwalk Hall where the televised Miss America pageant is taking place. These women will change into petite skirts, gloves, and heels to blend in with the audience; smuggling in a secret piece of cargo under their clothes. While the reigning Miss America delivers her farewell address, these protestors make their way to a balcony and over its edge, unfurl a huge banner made out of bed sheets, with the words “Women’s Liberation” scrawled on it. They chant protest slogans until they are escorted out of the hall by security.

The day’s demonstration will be hailed as a complete success ushering in a new wave of feminism into public consciousness. Key members of the New York Radical Women will later acknowledge certain flaws of the demonstration; primarily, using a live animal as a prop and for promoting “anti-womanism” by poking fun at the pageant contestants. But the protest will serve its purpose, becoming a magnet for media attention and allowing the group’s movement to gain momentum. The telecast of the Miss America Pageant will be one of the highest-rated programs of the year, bringing more eyes to the women's liberation movement than ever before.

With their protest, the New York Radical Women will be remembered for daringly spearheading this second wave of radical feminism in America, but history will also take note of another revolution brewing just a few blocks away from the Atlantic City Boardwalk.

Act Three

It’s nearly 3 AM on September 8th, 1968 in Atlantic City; a few hours after the Miss America beauty pageant ended.

Saundra Williams, a nineteen-year-old college student, beams as she sashays across the stage at the Ritz-Carlton in an elegant evening gown. A cream-colored cape draped around her shoulders, a sash wrapped around her torso, and a scepter in hand, Saundra looks just like every other beauty pageant-hopeful; with one difference, Saundra is Black.

During the 1930s, in the early years of Miss America, the rules of the pageant specified that contestants must be white. As society progressed toward racial integration, this requirement was removed in 1940. But even after nearly three decades, no Black contestant has ever made it to the national stage.

This year, the National Association for Advancement of Colored People was determined to break the beauty queen color line. The Atlantic City chapter of the NAACP met with Miss America officials to push for integration. The pageant responded with nominal changes like adding Black judges and setting up a scholarship fund to encourage black contestants. But with no Black state finalists, the changes were too little, too late. So, an activist teamed up with an entrepreneur from Philadelphia to organize the first all-Black pageant slated to take place alongside Miss America in Atlantic City.

Now, an audience applauds as Saundra is crowned the winner of the first Miss Black America pageant. In an interview with the New York Times, Saundra will use her newfound platform to discuss the need for a more inclusive pageant, saying “Miss America does not represent us because there has never been a black girl in the pageant. With my title, I can show black women that they too are beautiful.”

The New York Radical Women’s protest and the first Miss Black America pageant will showcase a pivotal moment in history where civil rights and feminism converged, confronting Miss America's shortcomings on multiple fronts.

But though the protests will result in an immediate media storm, it will be many years before the critiques lodged at Miss America appear to change it. In 1984, the pageant will have its first Black Miss America. Over three decades later, the organization will eliminate the swimsuit portion of the competition, calling the revision part of “Miss America 2.0” – a broader effort to make the competition more empowering and inclusive, and less focused on physical appearance. Though the changes will satisfy some critics, enduring questions will remain as many more continue to debate Miss America’s relevance and role in modern society over fifty years after the New York Radical Women first protested the pageant on September 7th, 1968.

Outro

Next on History Daily. September 8th, 1966: The starship Enterprise boldly goes on its first mission as the sci-fi franchise Star Trek premieres on American television.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammed Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Rhea Purohit.

Executive Producers are Alexandra Currie-Buckner for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.