Breaking Out: VMI and the Coming of Women
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Breaking Out: VMI and the Coming of Women

by Laura Fairchild Brodie

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On July 26, 1996, the United States Supreme Court nullified the single-sex admissions policy of the Virginia Military Institute, the last all-male military college in America. Capturing the voices of female and male cadets, administrators, faculty, and alumni, Laura Brodie tells the story of the Institute's intense planning for the inclusion of women and the problems


On July 26, 1996, the United States Supreme Court nullified the single-sex admissions policy of the Virginia Military Institute, the last all-male military college in America. Capturing the voices of female and male cadets, administrators, faculty, and alumni, Laura Brodie tells the story of the Institute's intense planning for the inclusion of women and the problems and triumphs of the first year of coeducation.
Brodie takes us into the meetings where every aspect of life at VMI was analyzed from the per-spective of a woman's presence: housing, clothing, haircuts, dating, and the infamous "Ratline"—the months of physical exertion, minimal sleep, and verbal harassment to which entering cadets are subjected. Throughout the process the administration's aim was to integrate women successfully without making adjustments to VMI's physical standards or giving up its tradition of education under extreme stress.
No other military college had done so much to prepare. But would it work? With everyone on the Post, we hold our breath as Brodie takes us through Hell Night, the unrelenting months of the Ratline, the fraternization, hazing, and authority issues that arose, the furtive sexual encounters, the resentments and, for the women, the daily difficulties of maintaining a feminine identity in a predominantly male world. Despite the challenges, we see the women ultimately making a place for themselves. Though new problems continue to arise, Brodie's lively and inspiring account makes it clear that VMI's story is an important and timely one of institutional transformation.

From the Trade Paperback edition.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
A 1970s feminist poster featured cartoon character Nancy burning down a clubhouse that sported a "No Girls" sign on its front door. Nothing so dramatic happened when, in 1989, the Department of Justice told the Virginia Military Institute that it had to admit women. The school fought the order -- at a cost of ten million dollars, making a small dent in its $250 million endowment -- but the Supreme Court ruled against the school in 1996. In this engrossing, informed and even-handed analysis of the institution's "assimilation" (the word carefully chosen by VMI's administration) of women, Brodie brings a clear, feminist perspective to her analysis of the school's history, students and bureaucracy. As a part-time teacher at VMI, a member of VMI's Executive Committee for the Assimilation of Women and wife of the band director, Brodie has both an insider's and outsider's perspective. In her nuanced and surprising account of VMI's struggle to change deeply embedded traditions, she charts how specific words and phrases in the cadets' established slang had to be altered, how the school's "Code of Gentleman" was viewed as a rudimentary sexual harassment policy and how seriously many of the male cadets assumed the responsibility for making the new system work. She also critiques VMI's all-male history and atmosphere, which have been, in small and large ways, profoundly misogynist. Brodie's account concludes on a cautiously optimistic note, as VMI's first female cadets graduated in 1999 to little controversy.
This is an exhaustive brief about a tumultuous period in the 161-year history of the Virginia Military Institute (VMI). The story began on June 26, 1996 when Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg, writing for the majority, handed down a U.S. Su-preme Court decision that forced VMI, a latter-day bastion of the recalcitrant Confederacy, to admit women into the all-male military college. The strategies of the opponents to the Court's order ranged from open defiance to closing down the Institute forever. Eventually the ideas of the "better dead than co-ed" fringe were dismissed or slid underground (surfacing later in the guerrilla tactics of the student body.) As a last-ditch effort, hold-outs looked to "privatize" VMI but were trumped by a hard-headed account of finances. VMI's governance groups finally realized their choices were limited to methods of compliance. The school administration outlined a "triple A" [quotes mine] plan. "VMI's â?˜Adversative' style of education would remain untouched," meaning the unflinching adherence to discipline and the verbal, sometimes physical, abuse would continue to be inflicted on ALL "rats" (first-year students). But VMI would attempt to be "Accommodative" to females, "taking into consideration a woman's special emotional needs." And finally, in a chilling "resistance-is-futile" echo of a Star Trek script, women would be "Assimilated" into VMI's Borg-like collective. None of the school's presumptively stereotypical assertions about women, however, proved true. And where women were expected to fail, such as in the physically punishing, cross-country marathon called "Breakout," women often outclassed many of the men in sheer stamina and determination. Thereader will find little in this brief about standards of academic excellence. "Minutiae is what mattered." Hair, clothing, physical prowess, and vocabulary were, and will continue to be, the sticking points. The "assimilation" of women at VMI appears to be succeeding because the women recruits never asked for, nor accepted, any new rules that did not also apply to the men, and because school leadership is acting in its own enlightened self-interest, putting aside prejudices and invidious stereotypes that apparently will continue to dog the American psyche well into the 21st century. KLIATT Codes: SA—Recommended for senior high school students, advanced students, and adults. 2000, Random House, Vintage, 367p. illus., $14.00. Ages 16 to adult. Reviewer: William Kircher; Washington, DC , November 2001 (Vol. 35, No. 6)
Library Journal
In 1996, the Supreme Court ruled that the Virginia Military Institute would have to admit women, ending over a century and a half of state-funded single-sex education and creating great uncertainty about the future of the institution. This account, written by a feminist, part-time English professor and member of the VMI community, attempts to introduce the reader to the culture of VMI and to chronicle the process through which it underwent minimal alterations to include women. Brodie, the wife of the VMI bandleader, actually participated in the transition and was in a particularly good position to observe this period of change. This highly readable book, based primarily upon personal experience and interviews, presents a positive view of VMI's efforts to assimilate women rather than accommodate them and is the only volume published to date to deal with this aspect of VMI's history. Recommended for larger academic and public libraries.--Theresa McDevitt, Indiana Univ. of Pennsylvania Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.\
Kirkus Reviews
An insightful and intimate look at the last all-male military college's struggle to prepare for and assimilate women into its corps of cadets. Laura Brodie introduces herself to her readers as the wife of the Virginia Military Institute band director; she then adds that she is a feminist with a PhD (in English) from the University of Virginia and served on one of the oversight committees for the integration of women into VMI's corps of cadets in 1996. The tension of producing an intellectually honest history of the military university's growing pains while simultaneously being a full-fledged member of that institution's "family" could have turned this book into an empty panegyric to VMI's martial subculture. Instead, Brodie harnesses that tension to evoke the deeper cultural currents that underlie the integration of women into traditional male strongholds. She traces VMI's dedication to assimilating women and its discomfort with addressing the practical problems of facilities, cadet slang, and physical fitness tests with balanced and humorous anecdotes: her narrative of the women's edgy reception, their demanding training, and the identity issues with which they struggled during their transformation into VMI cadets is equally engaging. The very intimacy that lends the book its authenticity also produces its limitations, however. Brodie downplays the societal implications of VMI's integration in order to deeply explore its effects on the college's unique fraternal culture. Even so, Brodie's insider awareness of the outlandish textures of VMI's culture, and her exhaustive interviews of cadets and faculty create a solid oralhistorywhich offers a unique point of view on the struggle to assimilate time-honored traditions with progressive values. An engaging oral history that offers a snapshot of how far American military culture has come in accepting women and suggests the complexities involved in the nation's continuing struggle with issues of gender and the military.

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I am the band director's wife.

At first glance, that might seem irrelevant. This is not a book about snare drums and spit valves and John Philip Sousa. What lies ahead is an insider's view of a deliberately anachronistic Southern institution confronting the facts of sexual equality in the twenty-first century. More specifically, this is the story of the Virginia Military Institute, and the internal challenges it faced as it relinquished its status as the last all-male military college in the United States. The key players are a group of young women tackling a male-oriented system of education, and a community of administrators, alumni, faculty, and male cadets, all struggling to integrate women into their world, on their terms.

Why does my own background matter? Because no one can talk about VMI without getting personal. In the seven years that the Institute spent waging a legal war to defend its males-only admissions policy, neutrality was a luxury few could afford. The issues were too emotional, too inflammatory. Should women be at VMI? How far should our nation's military colleges, as well as the armed services, go to accommodate women? What does equality between the sexes really mean when translated into practical terms?

Answers to these questions depend on each individual's perspective. Are you a man or a woman? Were you born and bred in Virginia? Are you a Yankee? Have you ever fought in a war? What do you know about military training? Have you ever seen VMI? The questions quickly become accusations.

I come to this story with as much personal baggage as any human being. My biases are all the more relevant because I was not only a witness to, but an occasional participant in, several of the events at hand-joining in committee debates, mingling at cocktail parties, teaching English to the last all-male "rat mass" in VMI's history. In the pages that follow I will occasionally metamorphose from narrator to character, Jekyll to Hyde, stepping out of the shadows to provide a more intimate, first-person view. To make that view clear, an introduction is necessary.

And so, as I was saying, I am the band director's wife.

I am also a doctor of English literature, a part-time professor, a full-time mother. But for my present purposes, these facts are secondary. What matters is that for the past ten years I have attended every Parents' Weekend concert at VMI. I have traveled with the band to Paris, to New York, to Mardi Gras in New Orleans (imagine thirty-eight hours round-trip on a bus with fifty cadets). I have watched VMI's Corps march in full regalia at dozens of Friday afternoon parades, framed on the left by the flat peak of House Mountain, and on the right by the early twilight reflected in the windows of the barracks. I have sat within ear-splitting distance of the VMI pep band at basketball and football games, cheering for the "Keydets," and I once spent $120 on a long white dress and a pair of elbow-length gloves, so that I could stand next to my husband underneath a giant replica of the VMI Class Ring, as he was dubbed an honorary member of the Class of 1992.

In other words, I am a member of the VMI Family.

Many colleges use a family metaphor to describe the relations among students, faculty, alumni, parents, and staff, but few take the metaphor as seriously as VMI. One former VMI official used to invoke the Family so often -- "We must communicate with the Family," "The Family will not like this" -- that a conversation with him felt like a scene from The Stepford Wives.

At VMI, "Family" is a literal term. Many of the cadets are sons, grandsons, nephews, or cousins of former graduates. Most of the administrators are alumni, as are many of the professors. In 1995 the Dean of the Faculty distributed a memo stating that VMI's faculty needed to hire more women, more minorities, and more alumni (none of whom were women, and few of whom were minorities). The memo confirmed a larger institutional belief that only those who have lived through VMI's system can understand it. VMI is a cloistered society, full of private rituals, complex rules, and a language of confusing acronyms. It can take months to distinguish between the EC, the GC, SRC, and the VFT. It can take years to fathom why any college freshman would voluntarily submit to VMI's seven-month system of daily abuse known as the "ratline."

Hand-in-hand with this elusive spirit comes a wariness toward outsiders. During its long road to the Supreme Court, VMI was often vilified by commentators whose knowledge of the school was superficial. As a result, the Institute began to circle its wagons even tighter.

Without some status as a VMI insider, I would never have been allowed to research this book. The last female intellectual whom VMI welcomed into its fold was an anthropologist who impressed a few administrators with her tribal interpretations of the school's muddiest rituals. But as the court case neared completion, this short-term visitor to the Post was touted in the papers as an expert on VMI, espousing a viewpoint so full of doubts that the Commandant, who had befriended her, thought "Never again." Indeed, anyone who has ever read Susan Faludi's scathing critique of The Citadel ["The Naked Citadel," The New Yorker, September 5, 1994.] might wonder why any military college would allow a feminist writer into its midst.
And I am a feminist. Not a man-hater, not a witch, not an inflexible opponent of all things patriarchal, but a supporter of a society equally fair to its mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. I intentionally described myself as "feminist" in a letter submitted to VMI's Superintendent, Major General Josiah S. Bunting III, shortly after the Supreme Court ruled against VMI, when I sought his permission to undertake an oral history of the Institute's transition to coeducation. I knew that the word triggers alarm bells in the minds of most VMI officials. Bunting, however, did not flinch. Instead, he invited me to join his committee on coeducation, adding "You have read Carol Gilligan, haven't you?" Apparently Bunting thought it would be useful to have someone with a knowledge of women's studies joining the debate, someone who knew Gilligan's theories about the self-esteem problems among female adolescents. Not to mention the fact that my presence on the committee would double the number of women in the room. Bunting did not seem fazed by the knowledge that the person now chronicling VMI's actions would be coming from a feminist background. After all, I was Mrs. Brodie. I was the band director's wife.

I mention my ideological background for two reasons: to lay my cards on the table and to emphasize that what follows is not a piece of propaganda for VMI. Despite my ties to the Institute, my husband's occasional refrain of "please don't get me fired," my fondness for most of the people involved (believe it or not, VMI is filled with well-intentioned, intelligent, likable people), my role has always been that of a concerned skeptic, committed to honesty, not adulation.

Like most people who are well acquainted with VMI, I have spent my moments loathing the place. But I have also witnessed events that were fascinating, funny, and admirable. None more admirable than the manner in which hundreds of people on VMI's Post -- from cadets, to faculty, to laundry workers -- all came together to prepare for the arrival of women. Many did not agree with the Supreme Court's ruling that nullified the Institute's single-sex admissions policy. Many feared that the mixture of women and men in VMI's barracks would be explosive. But the vast majority determined to try their best to make coeducation work. This book is about them. In keeping with my original plans for an oral history, the narrative that follows is filled with the voices of administrators, cadets, and faculty. Their stories and opinions color the first half, which covers VMI's year of planning for coeducation, and they are especially predominant in the second half, which looks at the women's first year at VMI.

The pages ahead provide only the opening chapters in an ongoing story. Whether VMI's transition to coeducation will ultimately result in success or scandal, whether its first female graduates will look back on their alma mater with devotion or disillusionment, will remain for the future to determine. However, the first act in this drama has been played out. The role of this book is to offer a window into an unusual institutional culture, to describe what was involved in bringing women into that culture, and to survey some of VMI's earliest responses to a new era in its history.

When Lieutenant General Winfield S. Scott, former Superintendent of the Air Force Academy, visited VMI in the spring of 1997, he declared that no other military college had done so much to prepare for the arrival of women. At the same time, no other military college planned to do so little to alter its system. In its determination to offer women the same harsh model of physical and mental stress applied to men, VMI became a case study in higher education and a microcosm for national debate about men and women, single- and dual-sex military training, and the benefits and drawbacks of tradition and change.

These are the issues that drive the narrative that follows, but to approach them we must first survey VMI's history. For it is the culture of VMI that will dominate the pages ahead, and to appreciate the Institute's present, you must know something about its past.

Let us go then, you and I, to the place where I take all visitors who come to Lexington, Virginia -- the doors of Jackson Memorial Hall, at the center of VMI's Post.

From the Hardcover edition.

What People are saying about this

Lois Banner
Author of American Beauty:

An impressive stufy of women's integration into a totally masculine culture, which demonstrates the complexities of gender interactions and the ability of young men and women to rise above sexism and stereotyping to form a cohesive group...Brodie is a fine writer, sensitive to nuances, and fair to every side in the debates.

Jill Ker Conway
Author of The Road from Coorain:

Brodie tells her story with a light touch and an eye for telling detail. Future historians will be in her debt.

Drew Gilpin Faust
Author of Mothers of Invention:

A fascinating and highly readable story filled with striking insights into American gender roles and revolutions at the end of the twentieth century. Brodie's book does a wonderful job of demonstrating the pressures for both continuity and change.

Jane Tompkins
Author of A Life in School:

In Laura Brodie's riveting account, the details of women's admittance to VMI -- the debates over hair length, the definition of sexual harassment, the installation of toilet doors, the number of pull-ups required for physical fitness -- become suspense-filled dramas. Her close-to-the-ground descriptions evoke the epic quality of institutional life, revealing the ennobling and the horrifying aspects of male military culture. To this amazing world Brodie is an excellent guide. Once you open it, her book is hard to put down.

Rear Admiral Ron F Marryott USN (Ret.)
From the U.S. Naval Academy Alumni Association:

Ms. Brodie's book gives readers a ringside seat during the "fight" to integrate women into the VMI Ratline. This is an important book that looks at difficult issues from all sides. In the end, the VMI approach to integrating women into the Corps will stand the test of time as a model.

Gretchen Kreuter
Author of Forgotten Promise:

A compelling and fair-minded account of the preparation for, and first year of, coeducation at VMI....The story is gripping. Will VMI be changed by coeducation, and if so how? Brodie makes us care. She has created a page-turner.

Meet the Author

Laura Fairchild Brodie, who served on one of VMI's assimilation committees, received her B.A. from Harvard and her Ph.D. from the University of Virginia. She has taught at the University of Virginia, Hollins College, VMI, and Washington and Lee University. With her husband and three young daughters, she lives in Lexington, Virginia.

From the Hardcover edition.

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