‘People didn't like women in space': how Sally Ride made history and paid the price

A week before Sally – a documentary about the first American woman to fly into space – landed at the Sundance film festival in January, Nasa employees received emails informing them how Donald Trump's diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) rollbacks would take effect.
Contracts and offices associated with DEI programs were to be terminated. Staff were given Orwellian instruction to inform the government of any attempt to disguise inclusion efforts in 'coded or imprecise language'. In the weeks to follow, Nasa would take back its promise to send the first woman and person of color to the moon's surface. Meanwhile, employees are reported to be hiding their rainbow flags and any other expressions of solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community, allegedly because they were instructed to do so though Nasa denies those claims.
'The pride flag flew in space a couple years ago,' says Cristina Costantini, the director of Sally, on a Zoom call with the Guardian. 'Now all Nasa employees are being asked to take down any representations of pride.'
Costantini calls the developments sad, especially because such harmful silencing contributes to the very atmosphere that made her film's subject hide her own queer identity throughout her celebrated career. Sally Ride, who made history when she rode the space shuttle Challenger into the stars on 18 June 1983, was a lesbian. The public, and so many who knew Ride personally, only found out that part of her legacy after she died of cancer in 2012. Ride's obituary identified Tam O'Shaughnessy as her partner of 27 years.
O'Shaughnessy is a key voice in Sally, a National Geographic documentary revisiting everything we thought we knew about Ride – from her astronomic accomplishments to the infuriating sexism she confronted at Nasa and in the media, with reporters questioning how she would dress, whether space travel would affect her ovaries and if she would buckle and cry in the face of daunting challenges. But now there's the extra dimension, the part of Ride kept tragically buried because of the institutionalized homophobia we see resurfacing today. 'We made this movie not thinking it was particularly controversial,' says Costantini. 'We had no idea it would be this relevant.'
Costantini is speaking from her Los Angeles office in Atwater Village, a photo of a space shuttle and another of Ride on the Challenger mission hovering just behind her. The investigative reporter turned film-maker – who grew up wanting to be a scientist and made her feature debut co-directing the Sundance audience award winner Science Fair – describes Ride as a major influence on her life. She remembers researching the astronaut as a young child on an old Encarta Encyclopedia CD-Rom for a book report. In grade three, Costantini contributed to a class mural where the students in her Milwaukee school painted their heroes on a wall. Ride is drawn standing alongside Brett Favre and Michael Jordan – a small sampling of the heroes that fed childhood aspirations in the mid-90s, says Costantini.
With Sally, Costantini is returning to her icon's story with a canvas bigger than either a book report or mural, but an even more challenging story to tell.
'The film is really two stories interwoven,' says Costantini. 'It's the public and the private Sally. The public Sally is so well-documented that it's a problem. We had to bring in 5,000 reels from the Nasa archive and sort through and sound sync all of them. That was a monumental task.
'And then the other task is the private story, maybe the more interesting story, which has no documentation at all. There are only five really good pictures of [Sally and her partner, Tam] together that we had. You can't build a love story out of showing people the same five pictures over and over again. For that we had to kind of invent our own cinematic romantic language.'
Costantini's doc pairs narrations from O'Shaughnessy and others who were close to Ride with animation and 16mm visuals. They express the love, the excitement of first relationships, the heavy toll from keeping these feelings secret and the sting when Ride – whose noted emotional reserve is making more and more sense – would behave inexplicably.
'Sally is a very confusing central subject in some ways,' says Costantini, remarking on how Ride didn't always make for a picture-perfect feminist hero, the uneasiness going a long way to make her even more compelling. The director refers to a story recounted by fellow astronaut Kathryn Sullivan. During the race to become the first American woman to go to space, Ride sabotaged a Nasa exercise Sullivan was working on. Talking heads mull whether that was an example of Ride's prankster sense of humour, or a cutthroat competitive nature that flew in the face of female solidarity and sisterhood. 'She didn't leave tell all diaries or an audio journal of how she was feeling in every single moment. So we're left to interpret later on what her choices were, and why she did what she did.'
Costantini also points to Ride's five-year marriage to fellow astronaut Steve Hawley. The union in retrospect can be seen as a betrayal of who she was, and the LGTBQ+ movement that she never publicly aligned with. But it was also a necessary and sacrificial career move to make her dream possible, deflecting any suspicions about sexual orientation while making Ride a more ideal candidate to make history and inspire young women. 'People didn't like women in space,' says Costantini. 'And they especially didn't like single women in space. Some of the male astronauts were, like: 'Well, it was a good look for her not to be single and in space.''
When Ride does climb above the atmosphere on her historic mission, there's a cathartic moment where the tense conflicts within her – or put upon her – are either resolved or abandoned, if only temporarily.
'I loved being weightless,' says Ride, while in space, her recorded words packing new mean considering all the burdens we now understand. 'It's a feeling of freedom.'
'She escaped Earth's orbit – Earth's gravity – metaphorically too,' says Costantini, on that pivotal moment in American history and Ride's personal life. 'Looking at the Earth from space, she started to, for the first time, really think about the imaginary lines that we have. She was struck by the fact that all these countries have known borders around them. These are human constructions. As Tam says in the film, the lines between genders, the lines between race, the lines between countries, who we're allowed to love, those are meaningless constructs.
'Space was transformative for her. When she came back to Earth, she finally allowed herself to be who she really is, and love who she really loved.'
Sally premieres on National Geographic on 16 June and is available on Hulu and Disney+ on 17 June

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Learn with AIFact CheckingText to SpeechAI Summary

Related Articles

The Guardian

18 minutes ago

• The Guardian

‘It's hard to find work': Marlee Matlin on making Hollywood history but waiting for change

In 1987, at the age of 21, Marlee Matlin became the youngest person ever to win a best actress Oscar. Footage of her victory appears early in Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore, a new documentary on the trailblazing actor's life and career: Matlin, remarkably fresh-faced even for 21, in her very 80s purple dress, her brunette hair swept up by a floral headpiece, black-rimmed glasses on, appears stunned as William Hurt, her co-star in Children of a Lesser God and her boyfriend at the time, reads her name. Thunderous applause. The camera captures fellow nominee Jane Fonda mouthing 'that's so great' as Matlin, the first and still only deaf actor to win the award, approaches the podium and kisses Hurt. As she delivers her speech in American Sign Language (ASL), she seems almost too shocked to emote, overcome with the gravity of the moment. Matlin's win was indeed groundbreaking, a watershed moment for deaf representation. But as Not Alone Anymore explains, it was also much more complicated than a feelgood story of societal triumph, or a turning point for deaf creatives. Nor was it one of personal glory. Halfway through the film, the scene is replayed again, this time with the sound taken away – the thunderous applause muted to just a simulation of Matlin's own thunderous heartbeat as she walked to the stage. 'I was afraid as I walked up the stairs to get the Oscar,' Matlin recalls on screen in ASL. 'I was afraid because I knew, in my gut, that he wasn't that happy.' Hurt, 16 years her senior and an established Hollywood star, was intensely jealous of her success, and had already begun physically abusing her. Without sound and with context, what once read as overwhelming shock on her face instead appears as something darker, shaded with fear. The twist, of sorts, is one of many decisions by director Shoshannah Stern to subvert the hearing perspective that most viewers automatically assume. 'I wanted to return to her Oscar-winning moment twice,' Stern, a deaf actor herself, told me through an interpreter, 'because sound does limit people. There are a lot of things that I feel hearing people miss when they are just listening with their ears and not listening with their eyes.' When I first watched Matlin's win, I assumed, as Stern expected, that 'it's this roaring applause, so we're celebrating'. Without sound, the picture is clearer. 'You could see in that moment how scary it is,' said Stern. 'And it's right there. It's been in front of us this whole time.' Stern's intrinsic understanding of the deaf perspective was the reason Matlin, who went on to a long career on such shows as Seinfeld, The West Wing, The L Word and, most recently, the Oscar-winning film Coda, decided to make the film at all. 'Almost none of the documentaries that I've seen that have to do with a subject matter like myself have not been done right,' she told me over Zoom via her interpreter, Jack Jason, who has worked with Matlin since 1985. When PBS's American Masters approached her about a documentary, she had one demand: the director had to be deaf, and it had to be Stern, a longtime friend and occasional collaborator who co-created the show This Close. As she did with early financiers of Coda who wanted to cast big-name hearing actors for two deaf roles, Matlin stuck to her guns. Deaf participation, take it or leave it. 'I wanted to have that type of conversation I could [with] Shoshannah, where I could feel free and sign and not worry about an interpreter voiceover, not worry about my surroundings, not worry about any of that, just be there,' Matlin said. 'That was the first time that I felt at ease.' Much of Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore, which first premiered at the Sundance film festival, features Stern and Matlin in conversation unlike in any prior documentary I've seen, even with deaf subjects. The two women sign without voiceover, just subtitles for hearing viewers. Any ASL interpreters were not only off camera, but in a different room, communicating via earpieces. 'I wasn't accustomed to that approach. I've never seen that,' said Matlin. 'I'm accustomed to being voiced over, because that's how it's been in my entire career. That's the hearing perspective.' As the first Oscar-winning deaf actor and still the most famous, Matlin knows how, as Stern puts it, 'the world often tries to force perspectives on people, put the weight of explaining an entire community's experience on one person'. Voiceover and interpreters 'are another forced perspective', she said. 'When I'm interviewed by hearing people, I have to look at the interpreter. Where are they? How is my language being translated into English? And then I'm limiting myself. I'm thinking in a way that the hearing interviewer or the hearing director is thinking. I'm not thinking as myself.' 'It wasn't what I wanted Marlee to say in our documentary, it was how she spoke, how that changes when our expectations and our perspectives change,' she added. 'Accessibility is for everyone. It's not just for us as deaf people, but a lot of times that responsibility, that weight, is put on one person.' Not Alone Anymore illustrates that weight, which Matlin felt acutely as a very young person experiencing rapid professional success. Cast in Children of a Lesser God fresh out of high school, Matlin was new not only to screen acting but the world beyond her small community in suburban Chicago. The youngest of three children in a hearing family – Matlin became deaf at 18 months, for unknown reasons that, she recalls, nevertheless left her parents guilt-stricken – she attended a mixed deaf/hearing school and began acting at age seven; she was inspired, in part, by Henry Winkler, a lifelong mentor she first met backstage at a school show at age 12. (In 1993, Matlin married Kevin Grandalski, a cop she met on the set of Reasonable Doubts, in the Winklers' back yard. They have four children.) Matlin's family was not fluent in ASL, and it took years for her to understand the loneliness and isolation at home. She coped by smoking marijuana. At 19, she began dating Hurt, who was then 35. Her drug use escalated with the physical and emotional abuse; she has said she smoked 20 joints a day, plus cocaine. In the midst of her awards season run, she entered rehab. She emerged sober, and also the face of a deaf community she did not totally understand. 'I didn't realize that there were more deaf people out there, outside of Chicago, a whole community. It was bigger than what I even realized,' she said. Not Alone Anymore powers through cringey clips of interviewers asking Matlin to explain deafness. How did it feel to be deaf? Had she come to terms with it? Matlin powered through as best she could. She quickly became an activist, successfully pushing legislation in the US requiring closed captioning on TV and streaming sites. But she struggled as the lone representative of deafness for hearing people. The film lingers on backlash from the deaf community when Matlin spoke at the 1988 Oscars, which many felt encouraged the stereotype that deaf intelligence was connected to one's ability to imitate hearing speech. Matlin says the incident, fanned by hearing media attention, drove her away from the deaf community for over a decade. 'I had no guidance in terms of someone to sit down to me and explain about the language that was being used, about the language that I used,' she said. 'I had to find out the hard way.' Matlin faced similar media blowback, though of a different tenor, when she disclosed Hurt's abuse, as well as incidents of molestation by a babysitter and teacher in her childhood, in her 2009 memoir, I'll Scream Later. Not Alone Anymore again assembles very pre-#MeToo clips in which interviewers discounted or dismissed her experience. In one clip, Joy Behar asks about 'spectacular' sex with Hurt. 'Marlee has always been ahead of the curve,' said Stern of Matlin's willingness to speak up years before it became more common to do so. When Hurt died in 2022, at the age of 71, Matlin found her name once again brought up in his wake. 'On social media, I had to look at both sides of the conversations,' she recalled. In posts and comments, some people accused her of lying about the abuse; others were mad at those who accused her of crying wolf. 'They were trying to define me,' she said. 'And I would have none of that. I wanted them to stop, but at the same time, I decided to step away from the conversation' during Coda's press run. Did she wish now that she said anything? 'No, I don't,' she answered, after a beat. 'Because nothing would satisfy these people. And why should I have to? I didn't trust what would happen if I did get involved, because of my past experience of being ignored, of being overlooked, not getting any help. But it was interesting to observe, to see the two factions fighting about me thinking that they knew me.' It's a typically strident answer from Matlin, who has never minced words, particularly on how her Oscar did not open up more opportunities for deaf actors – the film's title comes from her emotional reaction to Coda costar Troy Kotsur's supporting actor Oscar in 2022, becoming only the second deaf actor to win. As with Matlin's 1987 trophy, Kotsur's win hasn't changed much. 'I'm not seeing more opportunities open up,' said Stern. 'It's still up to deaf people or people from a minority group to explain their experience to the majority,' she added. 'We continue to say what is expected of us, which is: 'Great story. Representation has changed! There's going to be so many job opportunities!' That's what people are expecting us to say. And if we say that, nothing's going to change.' 'My least favorite question is: Are you working? What's next?' said Matlin. 'I hate answering that question. I say, 'Oh, well, I have this.' I try to change the subject, talk about something else because they won't understand what I'm going through. 'It's hard to find work,' she said, but still insists: 'This is something I love to do. This is a business that I love being in. I love acting. I love it all.' Naturally, she can't say what is next – 'waiting for a yes or no, an answer, that's typically what I do' – beyond press for a film she and Stern both hope challenges some perspectives. 'I hope it makes people think. I hope that people feel seen,' said Stern. 'I hope people know that they have value in how they see the world, and you don't just have to accept how things have been done for so long.' Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore is out now in US cinemas

BBC News

29 minutes ago

• BBC News

'Eldest daughter syndrome' to the rebellious youngest sibling: Does your birth order shape your personality?

The question of whether siblings' birth order shapes their personality has puzzled families and psychologists for years. But the evidence isn't as straightforward as you might think. As the eldest daughter of two, I often identify with the traits stereotypically associated with being the oldest sibling: responsible, conscientious, a perfectionist. My mum is an eldest daughter, too, and also shares those traits. My younger sister, on the other hand, is a bit more carefree – even though she and I grew up in the same household with the same parents, and are close, our personalities are quite different. I wondered whether that difference could be due to our birth order – is there any science to the idea that being the oldest, the youngest, or an only child, shapes who we are, and how we navigate the world? A century-long mystery Despite fascinating the scientific community and public for more than 100 years, the question of whether our birth order amongst siblings shapes our personalities is very much still up for debate. Historically, research has produced inconsistent findings. There are several reasons why this is, though to put it simply: it's hard to measure. Rodica Damian, an associate professor in psychology at the University of Houston, Texas, in the US, explains that previous studies have often included small sample sizes. In addition, since personality tests are often self-reported, they may be affected by bias. Recent studies point out that a number of confounding variables can make it hard to investigate if birth order is systematic, meaning that it affects every person in the same way. The total number of siblings may be a factor, for example: one would expect the overall dynamics to be different in a family with two siblings compared to a family with seven siblings. Being the eldest or youngest child in these differently-sized families might be a very different experience, and not directly comparable. Family size and the experience of being a child in any given family may in turn be entangled with many other factors, such as a family's socioeconomic status (wealthier families with higher socioeconomic status tend to have fewer children, for example). And then there is a person's age and gender, which could influence their experience within the family and beyond. Within this context, researchers have not been able to conclude that birth order has any consistent, universal impacts on our personalities. But that doesn't mean birth order is irrelevant. It could play a role within certain families, or cultures. "I think people have a lot of beliefs that are kind of outdated, or that were never well supported in the first place," says Julia Rohrer, a personality researcher at Leipzig University in Germany. "For example, the 'eldest daughter syndrome' thing is a big one – of course, women often still have different roles and are expected to provide more care. And then, first-borns are expected to take care of younger siblings," she says. "For some women, this might perfectly match their experience but for others it doesn't because every family is different." In other words, not every eldest daughter will be responsible and caring – but for some, the idea of an "eldest daughter syndrome" may ring true because they really did grow up having to look after their younger siblings and feel that this experience shaped them. Rohrer and her colleagues have found that birth order "does not have a lasting effect on broad personality traits" after examining three large datasets from surveys in the UK, US and Germany, each comprising data from several thousand people. However, the study did confirm previous findings on the impact of birth order on one specific trait: intelligence. Intelligence is a complex phenomenon and the study only measures it in the form of performance in intelligence tests, and self-reported intellect. "We confirmed the effect that firstborns score higher on objectively measured intelligence and additionally found a similar effect on self-reported intellect," Rohrer and her colleagues wrote in the study. Previous research had documented that performances in intelligence tests "decline slightly from firstborns to later-borns". As for birth order and other personality traits, Rohrer says reflecting on one's experience can still be meaningful, even if there is no universal pattern: "It does provide a label where you can find other people who grew up in a similar situation, and you can exchange experiences and so on," she says of terms such as "eldest daughter syndrome". There is nothing wrong with framing your experience that way, "as long as you don't assume that this experience is universal," she says. Damian echoes this: "While we don't find differences in personality that are systematic, that doesn't mean that there aren't social processes within each family or within each culture that can lead to different outcomes based on birth order." For example, the UK has a historically (male-preferring) primogeniture culture, meaning the eldest child would be the first in line to inherit family wealth, estate or titles. Only in 2013, with the passing of the Succession to the Crown Act did primogeniture within the monarchy end, removing the power of a male heir to displace an elder daughter in their right to the Crown. The idea of primogeniture is surprisingly widespread and persistent: in Succession, the HBO satirical comedy-drama, about a family's fight to take over a media empire, one character shouts "I'm the eldest boy!" in the finale. He believes his birth position should give him the right to take over his father's position of CEO. (He is actually the second-eldest son, but we won't get into that). "If the social practice is based on birth order, then yes, birth order will impact your outcomes," says Damian. Age is just a number? Age-related experiences can easily be mistaken for a personality trait or behaviour influenced by birth order, the researchers explain. Take the older, "responsible" sibling as an example: "As people grow older, they become more responsible, more self-controlled. So, the firstborn is always going to be older than the later born, and as you observe your children grow, the firstborn will always be more responsible," says Damian. "Another thing is that people become more self-conscious as they grow older," she adds. "So the second-born might appear more sociable and less neurotic, because a 10-year-old is much more happy and full of themselves… compared to the 14-year-old, who's freaking out about everything. That's because they have different challenges." Factors such as children's friendship circles also matter. Multiple studies suggest a link between delinquent peers and delinquent behaviour, for example, so an older child could be more of a rule-breaker depending on the people with whom they surround themselves. Smart siblings As aforementioned, one consistent finding that crops up in birth order research is the link between birth order and intelligence, with firstborns averaging slightly higher in intellect-related traits than younger-borns. "[The intelligence link] mostly shows up in verbal intelligence test results, and it has a very small effect," says Damian. Also, "if you took a test twice, you'll probably score depending on the day or mood, [or] whatever you ate that morning, [or] how long you slept." It may also be explained by cognitive stimulation in the early years of life. Damian points out that the more adults per child you have in a family, the more exposed they are to mature language and vocabulary. But when there are more siblings born into a family, levels of intellectual stimulation might decrease. "So it's not so much that they're genetically smarter or that they have more potential – it's more that they translate into a higher verbal IQ score on the test which could be due to knowing more words, because more adults versus children spoke to them," she says. "With two children, maybe some of that reading time is taken by managing sibling interactions where the verbal input is a little bit less elevated." There are also suggestions that as older siblings tutor younger siblings, or explain things to them, they use "more cognitive resources". Interestingly, these patterns of intelligence aren't replicated globally. Data from developing countries differs to data from developed countries, for example. In Indonesia, later-born siblings are likely to have better educational opportunities than their older siblings, potentially due to financial constraints, easing only when older siblings begin contributing to family income. According to Damian and her colleague, birth order has "negligible effects" on careers, too. In the past, there an idea prevalent among scientists was that the older sibling would enter a more academic or scientific career, and the younger a more creative one. But Damian found the opposite: in her longitudinal study, which looked at a sample of US high students in 1960 and then the same participants 60 years later, first-borns ended up in more creative careers. 'Selfish' only children? Only children often face the stereotype of being more selfish than children born with siblings, supposedly because they do not have to compete for a parents' attention. Recent studies, however, have shown that this is not the case, and that growing up without siblings does not lead to increased selfishness or narcissism. Other research suggests that the social behaviours of only children compared to children with siblings are not large or pervasive, and "may grow smaller with age". Birth order research has typically not included only children on the grounds that they cannot be fairly compared to children who have grown up with siblings. However, it is possible to compare the personality traits of siblings and only children, according to a 2025 paper by Michael Ashton, a professor of psychology at Brock University, Canada, and Kibeom Lee, a professor of psychology at the University of Calgary, Canada. Their study presented some new and fascinating results. It examined the association between personality, birth order, and number of siblings, in 700,000 adults online in one sample and more than 70,000 in another, separate sample. Middle-born and last-born siblings averaged higher on the "Honesty-Humility" and "Agreeableness" scales than first-born siblings. "Honesty-Humility" measures how honest and humble a person is, meaning, a high-scoring person is unlikely to manipulate others, break rules, or feel entitled. A low-scoring person may be more inclined to break rules and may feel a strong sense of self-importance. On the agreeableness scale, a high-scoring person tends to be forgiving, lenient in judging others, even-tempered and willing to compromise, while a low-scoring person may hold grudges, be stubborn, be quick to feel anger, and be critical of others. "These differences were quite small in size, particularly when the comparisons involve people from families having the same number of children," Ashton and Lee say in an email. "In contrast, the differences in these dimensions between persons from a one-child family (i.e., only children) and persons from a six-or-more-child family were considerably larger, somewhere between the sizes that social scientists would call 'small' and 'medium'." So, I ask, is the influence of birth order just a zombie theory – a concept that is wrong but which refuses to die? Rohrer disagrees. "I'm not sure whether I would call it a zombie theory," she says. "From the scientific perspective, I think the literature is progressing quite productively." So we may, one day, have a clearer answer as to what it means to be an eldest daughter. Until then, I'll keep letting my younger sister believe I'm inherently smarter than her. -- For more science, technology, environment and health stories from the BBC, follow us on Facebook, X and Instagram.

Daily Mail​

42 minutes ago

• Daily Mail​

Cardi B blasts ex Offset in new song amid Stefon Diggs romance

Cardi B seemingly dissed her ex, Offset, on her latest track Outside, with lyrics hinting at her latest romance with NFL star Stefon Diggs. The rapper, 32, who shares three children with Offset, 33, - Kulture, six, Wave, three, and Blossom, eight months, sang: 'Do you how you do me, bet we won't speak again. Favorite player from your favorite team, he in my DM.' She also said: 'Heard them Patriots go them n*****, let me in the locker room.' Cardi is dating Diggs, a member of the New England Patriots. It comes less than a year after the rapper filed for divorce from Offset. A few weeks ago, Cardi delved into the family finances, making a dig at her ex in posts online. She claimed Offset has not pitched in a penny for the children since their split. She claimed: 'A whole year straight, you have left me with the kids' bills. Y'all want to know what's the kids' bills? Start adding. 'My kids got their own driver - they pick them up from school, they drop them off and they take them to gymnastics and boxing classes. The kids' driver is on a retainer for $10,000 a month. 'Kulture's school this year - you didn't pay for it - that's $45,000. Wave's school a year is $35,000, which you didn't help me pay for it this year at all.' She revealed she pays a relative $3,000 weekly to babysit and a nanny for Blossom charges $500 a day. She continued: 'Kulture and Wave get tutoring four times a week. Each hour is $250. Count that up. Kulture's piano class, that's $300 an hour and she gets piano classes three times a week. 'I'm not sure how much is gymnastics and Wave's boxing classes, but I pay that too.' She was also critical of Offset for seeking spousal support in the split, again itemizing expenses she's paid for without his assistance. 'Have I asked you for anything?' Cardi asked. 'You want spousal support so bad. And mind you, this is not even including food - my kids have a personal chef that comes from 7am to 5pm that I pay for because people in my house don't have time to cook.' Cardi also said that Offset has 'seen Blossom only like five times' since her birth last fall. She added: 'I been trying to save your face. I said you can see my kids in my house. I want my daughter to feel the love of her dad. He hasn't seen his kids since March.'