Rae Leonard





				Noelle Bond
				05/14/00
				Research Report: Rae Leonard

Rae Leonard: The Woman Who Wore Pants
by Noelle Bond (the author kindly gave me permission to post)

	Gender roles have always been an important part of 
western society.  The responsibilities belonging to men and women 
during the 19th century were separated by a bold line; men earned 
an income or farmed their land while women took care of 
everything at home.  It was considered wrong for a woman to work. 
  So if a woman wanted to get a job, she would have to take 
drastic measures, such as protesting or taking a menial job that 
did not have adequate pay.  This was also true in the pioneer 
Oregon town of Lebanon, where one colourful resident challenged 
these roles.  With the clothes of a man, the look of a man, and 
even the act of a man, she entered the working world that would 
have been closed to her.  Rae Leonard helped break the barriers 
of social standards, leaving a lasting impression on her 
community and future women workers in the Pacific Northwest.

        Little is known of her early life, only that she was born
in Maine on the 14th of February, 1849 and traveled with her 
father to several places before eventually settling in the little 
town of Lebanon.  What is known clearly is her impact on Lebanon 
is known well, from the time she arrived as the thought-to-be son 
of a shoemaker up to the present, where her name is still spoken 
throughout the community she adored.  Known as a "Passing Woman", 
she dressed in men's overalls and, with her father's influence 
and help, really did pass for a man in society.  She was Oregon's 
first known passing woman, but she paved the way for many others 
and brought to light many new ideas.

	Rae arrived in Lebanon in 1889 with her father, Joseph.  
Her father had encouraged her to dress as a man because he knew 
that women were not allowed to work, and she was an indisputable 
asset to him in the cobbling business.  She was good at 
manufacturing and repairing shoes, and he wanted her to work with 
him.  She was an obedient and loving daughter, and eager to work. 
 So for more than nineteen years she was to be known as Ray, his 
son.

	In the community Ray and his father were well-loved, and 
known to be, "quiet, industrious, and not given to controversy in 
the community."¹  They had no foresight of the upset that Ray 
would later cause.  Ray became an active member of society, 
joining the local Presbyterian church and gaining a place of high 
esteem among his many friends, and became a great companion to 
many of the men.  His shop became a buzzing gathering place for 
men, where they would meet and tell stories or talk about 
fishing.  They all considered Ray to be just another one of the 
guys and he went with them on their hunting fishing trips.  He 
even took interest in a local woman and fought another man for 
her affection, thus further proving his masculine qualities.  No 
one knew he was really a woman, so he led a successful life as a 
man, and owned an even more successful cobbling business.  The 
most crucial element to his survival as an entrepreneur was the 
fact that no one knew.  The community trusted him, and his 
skills, because he was a man.

	Imagine the surprise when, at the age of 70 years, Ray 
was found to be Rae.  He became quite ill and was taken to the 
hospital to be treated.  When the doctor performed the customary 
stripping and bathing, he discovered that Ray was actually a 
woman.  The citizens who had come to love her, who had trusted 
her with their deepest secrets and invited her on all their 
trips, had deceived them the entire time.  The men who considered 
her a buddy were outraged.  The townspeople declared her mentally 
ill and she was admitted to the Oregon state insane asylum, where 
she was later released under the premises that she would wear 
skirts and have everyone call her "Miss Rae".

	Upon her arrival home, she was allowed to keep her shop 
and tried to reopen it, but the men who once considered it a 
second home now crossed the street to avoid it.  Even the doctor 
she trusted her life with for many years refused to go near her 
or her store.  But the conflict didn't end with the men.  When 
the lady she once courted found out that her former beau was 
really a woman all along, she was stunned and responded by 
saying, "Why the old !@#*!"²  It wasn't proper for women to swear 
during this time, so she must have been quite upset. Other women 
started to treat her as an outcast, since, as her dear friend 
Mary Canaga Rowland recalls, "she certainly [even when wearing 
dresses] looked like a man"³.  The whole town, except a few loyal 
and close friends, had turned against her for joining the work 
force the only way she could.

	Her hardships didn't last forever, though.  Forgiveness 
slowly spread through the town, and an understanding of her 
actions formed.  No one ever treated her the same, but they did 
include her as a strange, gender undefined member of Lebanon.  
She opened up her shop once again, and though it no longer served 
as the social hub for men, it did provide its service to the 
community until failing health required her to abandon it.  That 
same failing health took away her life in 1921, at the age of 76 
years, 10 months.  Eventually, the people she grew to love as a 
man accepted her as a woman, and, as evidence from eulogies and 
obituary records reveal, mourned her greatly in her death.

	Rae also became the subject of many newspaper articles, 
and she was seen as a celebrity around the town.  She was in the 
spotlight not only because she passed as a man for so long, but 
because she won the love of the community not once, but twice 
over, and was disliked for some time in between.  The details and 
events in her life and in the life of her shoe store were 
published and shared with the community, looked upon with awe, 
love, or disgust.  She did not mind the eye of the public, for it 
brought to light the issue she cared the most about: women in the 
work force.

	The town also realized something important through Rae-- 
Women could capably work the same jobs as men.  Lebanon as a 
community started to become more accepting of women in the 
workforce.  Women doctors and historians began to serve the town, 
and accomplished distinguished, respected positions.  Lebanon 
historians kept her in city records as a unique part of their 
historical and cultural heritage, and tales were passed through 
the generations about "The woman who wore pants."  Current 
citizens of Lebanon still remember their controversial Rae, and 
they keep her memory alive through stories and lectures.

	Because of her success, other women followed in Rae's 
tradition.  Passing women with the desire to work in a man's 
world appeared throughout Oregon and the Pacific Northwest.  Some 
just felt more comfortable acting as men in a manly environment, 
which Rae confided with her friends was true for her.  But most 
also shared a deep desire with Rae, the yearning to work outside 
of the home with the same jobs and rights as men possessed.   
These feelings gradually appeared in more and more women, and led 
to a women's movement in the twentieth century that fought for 
equal rights among genders and enfranchisement of women.  It 
successfully ended in granting men and women equal rights to jobs 
and education.  Though Rae did not begin this movement, she did 
start a local feeling that, combined with similar feelings in 
other areas, would eventually end up a national issue.  Lebanon 
felt the shift of gender roles, and so too did the world.

	Even though Rae opened the eyes to many, it was still a 
long battle for women.  Those that followed her were constantly 
arrested and put down by authorities, like Nell Pickerell, who 
was arrested for dressing like a man to get a job, and even in 
Lebanon it was still evident that people were not willing to 
easily accept working women.  For a long time men avoided her 
shop, and she was sent to an insane asylum for working while 
posing as a man.  Obviously the community still struggled with 
accepting the fact that women were completely capable, and a lot 
of times willing and wanting to work.

	Many women's societies hold Rae as a role model, not only 
for her courageous social defiance, but also as a leader towards 
equal rights.   Working class women who have heard her story feel 
pride in knowing that they were preceded but other strong women 
who did what it took to get equal treatment.  Gay and Lesbian 
organizations, such as Gay and Lesbian Archives of the Pacific 
Northwest, look to her as somewhat of a hero, showing strength in 
a time of discrimination, and proudly breaking social norms to 
live the way that felt natural to her.  The women of Lebanon see 
her not only as a Pioneer to their town, they see her as a 
Pioneer for women in the working world of their town and hold 
lectures on her to help women find their strength.  The most 
recent of these lectures was held in mid May, 2000.

        Rae Leonard caused great controversy in a small town, 
taking a strange approach to change the society around her, and 
bring a new strength to women.  With the help of her masculine 
looks and supportive father, she found success and opened many 
minds to the fact that women were just as capable as men in the 
working world, and did her own job as well as any man could.  Rae 
certainly left her mark in history, and will be remembered fondly 
by the town she influenced and all who hear of her strange and 
intriguing story.

Quotes:

1. Mary Canaga Rowland, As Long As Life, 108.
2. Ibid., 107.
3. Ibid., 107.

Bibliography:

1. Mary Canaga Rowland, As Long as Life: The Memoirs of a 
Frontier Woman Doctor 	(Loomis: Storm Peak Press, 1995), 
106-108.

2. Patricia Dunn and Jeanne Gentry, Lebanon Pioneer Cemetery 
(City of Lebanon, 	Oregon, 1995 revision), 86-87.

3. Gay and Lesbian Archives of the Pacific Northwest, "Ray 
Leonard, Oregon Pioneer and Passing Woman," 
(http://www.teleport.com/~glapn/ar04006.html).

4. Lebanon Genealogical Society: Public records and Lecture 
Schedules.

5. Various written correspondences with Patricia Dunn.

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