100 More Canadian Heroines

by Merna Forster

  Once finances permitted, Rosemary returned to university to become a social worker, but felt frustrated at her lack of power as a woman. After reading Betty Friedan’s book, The Feminine Mystique, and monitoring the progress of The Royal Commission on the Status of Women, she became a committed feminist determined to fight both racial injustice and sexism. At a time when many black women felt that feminism was a white-only movement, Rosemary courageously encouraged her black sisters, and women of many races, to join the fight.

  Rosemary was a founding member of the Vancouver Status of Women Council and ombudswoman on the implementation of some of the commission’s recommendations. Provincial NDP leader Dave Barrett invited her to run as a candidate in the next election. In 1972, Rosemary made political history when she was elected to British Columbia’s legislature. She held a seat until 1986, despite the reservations of those who were uncomfortable with her close ties to the women’s movement. Rosemary was disappointed that the premier refused to create a ministry focusing on the needs of women, and didn’t give her a cabinet position.

  During her years in politics, Rosemary played an important role in introducing legislation that prohibited discrimination due to marital status or sex as she strived to help many disadvantaged groups. She was proud that British Columbia’s provincal government was the first in

  Rosemary Brown.

  ©Canada Post Corporation, 2009. Reproduced with permission.

  Canada to fund shelters for battered women and rape relief centres. Her work led to many changes, including an increase in the number of women appointed to boards and government commissions, and the establishment of a committee to eliminate sexism and racism in school textbooks and curricula. In 1975, she became the first Canadian woman to run for leadership of a federal political party, losing to Ed Broadbent on the final ballot. She prided herself on having brought the topic of feminism into public debate across the country.[3]

  After Rosemary left politics in 1986, she accepted a position as professor of women’s studies at Simon Fraser University. She served on the board of the Canadian Security Intelligence Review and became chief commissioner of the Ontario Human Rights Commission. As director of the Match International Centre, she promoted the advancement of women in developing countries.

  She received many honours before her death at seventy-two, including the United Nations Human Rights Fellowship, the Order of Canada, the Order of British Columbia, and fifteen honorary doctorates. In 1999, Canada Post celebrated her achievements with a commemorative stamp. The Rosemary Brown Award promotes social justice and equality for women.

  Ever true to the women who raised her, Rosemary Brown was a principled leader who was passionate about inclusion, equality, peace, and social justice. A symbol of strength throughout her life, she opened doors to people of colour and continues to be an inspirational role model for female politicians.

  Quote:

  “Electoral politics touches our lives in a sufficient number of profound ways that no matter what the cost, it cries out for the presence and involvement of women.”[4]

  Jennie Butchart.

  ©The Butchart Gardens Ltd., 2011

  A Legacy of Blooms

  Jennie Butchart

  1866–1950

  She transformed an ugly lime quarry into one of the most famous gardens in the world.

  “I sat there having our picnic and crying with loneliness. I wanted to go home to Ontario,”[1] Jennie Butchart remembered. In 1902, she accompanied her husband to the site of their future home and factory on Tod Inlet, travelling in a horse-drawn buggy over a rough trail from Victoria. Within a few years, a limestone quarry was in full operation and business was booming at the new Vancouver Island Portland Cement Company.

  Born in Toronto to Irish parents, Jeanette Foster Kennedy was orphaned at fourteen and sent to live with an aunt in Owen Sound. She thrived in the family of seven children, enjoying outdoor activities such as skating and horseback riding. The adventurous Jennie even went up in hot air balloons and flew with pioneer French aviator Louis Blériot, the first person to fly across the English Channel. She attended Brantford Young Ladies’ College and her artistic talents earned her a scholarship to study in Paris. Love won over art, though, and Jennie married R.P. Butchart when she was eighteen.

  Jennie had a certificate in chemistry, and after the couple and their two daughters moved to British Columbia she worked in the laboratory of the cement plant for awhile. She soon adored the West Coast and its luxuriant vegetation. Jennie had no gardening experience, but decided to plant a rose bush and some sweet peas around their cottage.

  Jennie started her first major gardening project in 1906: a Japanese garden by the sea, above Butchart Bay. As a middle-class woman of means, she was able to hire Isaburo Kishida — a Japanese designer — to plan the site. They transformed an area of brush and stumps into a sophisticated garden, including traditional Japanese garden features along with others added by Jennie. She preferred to have more flowering plants and fewer areas of rock. Among the most exquisite features of the garden was the exotic Tibetan blue poppy, a rare flower that Jennie introduced after obtaining seeds from Kew Gardens in London.

  Though Jennie Butchart was proud of her husband’s successful quarry business, she was less pleased with the environmental impact: “You’re ruining the country, Bob, just to get your old cement.”[2] When the limestone quarry was depleted and shut down in 1909, after five years of extraction, Jennie looked with despair at the silent and ghastly tomb of the industrial site. It was an ugly pit, scraped of soil. The rough quarry floor was scattered with hundreds of rocks, broken and rusting machinery. Jennie envisioned something else: “Like a flame, the limestone pit burst into imaginary bloom. A flame for which I shall ever thank God.”[3]

  Over a period of ten years, Jennie oversaw the creation of the Sunken Garden in the abandoned quarry. Labourers no longer needed at the quarry were seconded to the project, and the arduous task of hauling away rocks and debris, and bringing in soil by horse and cart. Jennie sometimes suspended herself over the edge of the quarry in a bosun’s chair, to carefully plant ivy and dwarf trees in the cracks of the stone walls. She had a row of Lombardy poplars planted to conceal the old cement factory.

  Jennie and the crew transformed a leftover rock tower into an attractive viewpoint for the Sunken Garden, and created a lovely pond from a muddy crater in the quarry floor. Hugh Lindsay, the Butchart’s first head gardener, helped Jennie plan the Sunken Garden and plant the breathtaking array of trees, shrubs, and flowers that still awe visitors. While the garden itself is remarkable, it is even more amazing that Jennie created it from an ugly scar on the land.

  After the development of the Sunken Garden, Jennie added other features to what is now known as the Butchart Gardens: the Italian Garden (1926), the Rose Garden (1928–29), the Star Pond (1928), and the private garden (1928). Each demonstrates a distinctive character, creating an exceptional example of an early-twentieth-century estate garden. Though Jennie was an amateur designer, she was the mastermind behind the gardens, overseeing development for over thirty years, supported by landscapers, architects, and gardeners. Over the years, the Butcharts added new plants, sculptures, ornaments, and fountains collected during their travels around the world.

  Jennie Butchart loved sharing the beauty of her gardens with visitors. Often they stayed for tea, enjoying the family’s gracious hospitality. Jennie refused to charge visitors, even when, by 1915, about 18,000 people a year toured the Butchart Gardens. By the 1920s, she was popular in horticultural circles and frequently invited to judge shows in Canada and the United States.

  In 1931, the City of Victoria named Jennie Butchart “Best Citizen of the Year” and the Colonist noted that, “There is no lady in this quarter of the Empire better known throughout the continent than Mrs. Butchart.”[4] At the end of the 1930s, advancing age meant Jennie and her husband were less involved in the gardens, and in 1939 they transferred ownership to their grandson Ian
Ross. He transformed the Butchart Gardens into a successful family business, featuring fifty-five acres of gardens that are a prominent tourist attraction, visited by about a million people each year. Jennie continues to be an inspiration to those who know her story, and in 1995 an MLA in B.C. suggested that “while Mrs. Butchart is remembered all over the world for the beauty she created, perhaps at home we should honour her today as the world’s most dedicated recycler.”[5]

  Butchart Gardens commemorative stamp.

  ©Canada Post Corporation, 1991. Reproduced with permission.

  In 2004, the Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada designated the Butchart Gardens as a national historic site, noting that the “transformation of a limestone quarry into a sunken garden of massive dimensions and dramatic aesthetic qualities represents an exceptional creative achievement in gardening history.”[6] Garden historian Edwinna von Baeyer wrote, “the reclamation of an industrial site was highly unusual for its time and has a unique treatment.”[7] The gardens are Jennie’s legacy.

  Quote:

  “I had a small garden and I think it was that first horticultural venture, and seeing the marvelous way things grow out here where there were no cold winters, which started my enthusiasm.”[8]

  Ethel Catherwood, circa 1928.

  Courtesy of Bedford Road Collegiate

  The Saskatoon Lily

  Ethel Catherwood

  1908–1987

  Propelled by her goal of being the best in the world, she brought home the first gold medal for a woman high jumper.

  It was a great moment in sports history — and quintessentially Canadian. A tall, athletic beauty dropped the red Hudson’s Bay blanket from her shoulders. Clad in red shorts and a white T-shirt emblazoned with a red maple leaf and Canada in bold letters, she raised both arms and waved to the crowd. She ran and slipped effortlessly over the bar, setting a new world record in high jumping. The media darling known as the Saskatoon Lily won a gold medal at the 1928 Olympics in Amsterdam, and no Canadian woman has matched her achievement since.

  Ethel Catherwood was a natural athlete. She was born in North Dakota while her mother was visiting family, but her parents had a homestead in Scott, Saskatchewan. Ethel’s family moved to Saskatoon in 1925. Joe Catherwood was an athletic man who encouraged his nine children to participate in sports. Ethel excelled in track and field, as well as hockey, basketball, and baseball.

  The young girl loved to jump in the high-jump pit in the Catherwoods’ backyard, where, at fifteen, she amazed her father by clearing a height of five feet four inches — though neither realized it, no woman had ever made such a jump. When E.W. “Joe” Griffiths, physical education director at the University of Saskatchewan, heard about Ethel’s huge jump, he realized she had the potential to become a world champion. With Griffiths coaching her, Ethel set an unofficial world record at a provincial meet in Regina in 1926. By the summer of 1927, there were no more challenges in the West to motivate her.

  The aspiring athlete headed east to compete in the Canadian Women’s Track and Field Championships. Wearing a purple cape trimmed with white fur (from her sponsor, the Saskatoon Elks Club) over a white athletic uniform, the attractive young woman drew as much attention for her appearance as her athleticism. Ethel stunned the crowd with her jumping, winning her event and setting a Canadian high-jump record despite having a sore leg. She also set a Canadian record in javelin throwing.

  The famous Toronto sportswriter Lou Marsh wrote that astonished fans roared with delight as Ethel scissored over the bar: “The crowd knew a high jumper when they saw one and the Saskatoon Lily was one.”[1] The nickname stuck.

  Multimillionaire Teddy Oke offered Ethel the chance to work and train in Toronto, the hub of women’s sports. Oke sponsored the Parkdale Ladies’ Athletic Club, enabling many promising athletes to earn a living while developing their athletic skills. Ethel jumped at the opportunity. With her older sister Ginger along for support, she moved to Toronto in January 1928. The sisters attended a business college and worked in Oke's brokerage company, and Ethel joined the athletic club to train with acclaimed coach Walter Knox.

  After a rigorous selection process in Halifax, Ethel joined six other talented athletes for the first Canadian women’s Olympic track team in 1928. Though many people worried that women might be an embarrassment at the international competition, Ethel Catherwood, Jane Bell, Myrtle Cook, Bobbie Rosenfeld, Ethel Smith, and Jean Thompson proved they were champions. The team became known as the Matchless Six; they made Canada proud, earning two golds, two silvers, and a bronze.

  Even before she won her gold medal, Ethel was a celebrity at the games: the media was wowed by her beauty. The most photographed female athlete at the games, she was hailed as the most beautiful by the New York Times. The quiet and extremely shy young woman hated the media frenzy, and spent much of her time in her room to avoid it.

  When Ethel won an Olympic gold medal, setting a world record for the high jump, she and her teammates were hailed as “conquering Canadian heroines.”[2] Almost half the city of Toronto turned out to cheer the team’s return. The Matchless Six inspired girls across Canada to dream of becoming top-notch athletes and helped ensure that women’s track and field would be a part of future Olympics.

  After turning down offers to make movies, Ethel studied piano at the Toronto Conservatory of Music and completed her business course. She participated in a few athletic competitions, but lost her competitive spirit due to a lack of new challenges as well as to injuries. The press pounced on her after discovering that she had been secretly married to a Toronto bank clerk and later sought a divorce in Reno. The sensational coverage of Ethel’s private life hurt her deeply.

  Desperate to escape her celebrity, Ethel moved to the United States. She remarried and died in California in 1987. The once-famous Olympian has been honoured in the Canadian Olympic Hall of Fame and the Sports Hall of Fame. In 1966, Canada Post issued a commemorative stamp depicting her legendary jump at the 1928 Summer Olympics.

  Quote:

  “I’d rather gulp poison than try my hand at motion pictures.”[3]

  Victoria Cheung (back right) with her family in Victoria.

  Courtesy of John Price

  Between Two Worlds

  Victoria Cheung

  1897–1966

  She was born in Canada, where many believed she belonged to China.

  Victoria Cheung was the first female Chinese-Canadian doctor.[1] When she graduated from the University of Toronto in 1922, the university newspaper noted that she was going to China as a medical missionary because it was “her own country.”[2] Dr. Cheung’s story provides a glimpse of the challenges faced by Chinese Canadians in the early twentieth century, as well as her accomplishments in introducing modern Western medical care to South China.

  Victoria was born in Victoria, British Columbia, in 1897. Her parents were proud to live in Canada, eager for their children to adopt the culture of their new homeland and become successful Canadians. But at the time, anti-Chinese sentiments and institutional racism presented many obstacles to their dreams. Chinese families faced prejudice, persecution, and exclusion.

  Contractors for Canada’s transcontinental railway had lured Victoria’s father Sing Noon Cheung from his South China village. Lucky to have survived the perils of working on the Canadian Pacific Railway, he settled in Victoria after the last spike was driven in 1885. Sing Noon Cheung started a small business with his savings and became one of the fortunate few who could afford to bring his wife from China.

  Mrs. Cheung had converted to Christianity while enrolled at a mission school in Guangzhou, and her husband joined the faith in Victoria. He became one of the first Chinese converts to the Methodist mission. After Victoria and her brother were born, their mother became a midwife to help support the family. When Victoria was five or six, she was sent to kindergarten at the Oriental Home, operated by the Woman’s Missionary Society, while her mother was working.

  Popular amon
g both students and teachers, Victoria was soon recognized as a strong, intelligent, and witty girl. She taught Sunday school and participated in girls’ groups while attending the mission school in Chinatown. She resolved to become a medical missionary in China, to the amazement of her classmates who considered it preposterous that a poor Chinese girl could get a university education.

  The president of the Presbyterian Woman’s Missionary Society (WMS) offered Victoria a university scholarship. As legislation in the province prohibited Chinese people from entering professions, she attended the University of Toronto. During the first two decades of the twentieth century, it was the only medical school in Ontario that accepted female students. In 1917, Victoria joined young men and women who were primarily the children of businessmen — most of whom were white.

  Victoria graduated in 1922. After she interned at Toronto General Hospital, the WMS appointed her to the Marion Barclay Hospital for women and children, part of the South China Mission. Dr. Cheung began work in Kongmoon in 1923. Her parents and younger brother soon joined her. Dr. Cheung confidently took charge of the hospital, where she became highly respected as a skillful surgeon and efficient administrator. She also taught at the nursing school and worked in the medical dispensary. Dr. Cheung introduced modern medical practices, drugs, supplies, and equipment to South China, startling rural residents with an ambulance in 1932. [3]

  Known to be quiet, self-controlled, personable, and a “contagious Christian,”[4] Dr. Cheung worked in China for forty-three years, aside from occasional breaks to return to Canada, travel, and study. During a break in 1936–37, she attended the School of Tropical Medicine in London for three months; a decade later she worked with Chinese Canadians in British Columbia and attended a missionary conference in Washington, D.C.