The Long Blue Line (Winter 2021)

legislation. Admiral Owen Siler, Commandant, is
recognized as starting it all 45 years ago on August
11, 1975, when a Transportation Department press
release noted that, “Admiral Siler said his decision
to admit women to the Academy was based on the
many contributions he expected women to make
in the peace-time missions of the Coast Guard.”
Siler went on to state that, “Current statutes do
not bar the admission of women to the Coast
Guard Academy and that action by Congress will
not be required. This decision is also in keeping
with the strong commitment of the leadership of
the Department of Transportation to assure equal
rights for women.”
But it was another man who made the crucial
difference. William Thaddeus Coleman, Jr., a
distinguished attorney and judge, serving as the
fourth Secretary of Transportation, was the second
African American to serve in the United States
Cabinet. He served pivotal roles in significant
civil rights cases as an attorney before becoming
Transportation Secretary. While the Coast Guard
had previously decided not to admit women to
the Academy, Coleman asked the Commandant,
“Admiral, are there any really valid reasons why
women should be kept out of the Coast Guard
Academy?”
Siler replied in the negative. Coleman then asked,
“Do we have to wait for Congress to act upon this?”
Again, Admiral Siler responded in the negative.
Coleman’s adept handling of the situation allowed
the Commandant to shine.
This backstory was something I learned years later.
As one of the women entering the Academy in 1976,
I knew women were already in the Coast Guard.
Beginning with female lighthouse keepers and
World War II SPARs, followed by women graduating
Officer Candidate School and being commissioned
as Ensigns in 1973, it appeared women had been
in the Coast Guard in some manner all along.
Opening the Academy to women seemed a natural
progression—how hard could it be? When I inquired
about an application, I received a warm, encouraging
letter. As an accepted candidate, I received another
letter, professional and equally promising. Given this
positive start, it appeared the 38 women accepted
into the Academy would be as welcome as the men.
But that’s not what happened.
For a number of cadets and staff, having women
at the Academy was an experiment—one they
were determined to help fail. Thankfully, a few were
more open, providing respite and encouragement.
Support came from chaplains, cadet activity leaders,
and faculty. Most of all, we garnered support from
classmates and tackled challenges together—
beginning on the first day. We were issued dungarees
that needed hemming and the cadre (cadets two
years our senior tasked with our indoctrination)
yelled that it had to be done before the swearing-in
ceremony. This was meant to be a stress test, but
most women of my generation possessed sewing
skills courtesy of required home economics courses
in high school. Much to the irritation of the cadre,
my roommate and I easily hemmed our dungarees
and those of several male classmates before the
cadre rushed us outside to practice marching. That
first day, unsewn dungarees were held up with
tape and staples. But going forward, sewing skills
were bartered for shoe shining or rifle cleaning. We
learned teamwork, perhaps not in the way our cadre
intended, but we learned it all the same.
Our class motto—Old Traditions, New Horizons—
says it all. We would honor traditions, but we would
forge a new path as well. That new path included
dealing with issues prior classes had not. As a
class, we endured intense media scrutiny with
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20 WINTER 2021
THE LONG BLUE LINE