Dan Myers
Tim Irvin as Chief Justice Edwin G. Ryan and Deborah Hearst as Lavinia Goodell.
Lavinia Goodell played a key role in Wisconsin history, yet many people have never heard of her. The extraordinary Janesville resident not only advocated for temperance, woman's suffrage, prison reform and abolitionist causes, but in 1879 she became the first woman licensed to practice law in the state. Now Goodell is the subject of a new play by local playwright Betty Diamond, produced by the Madison Theatre Guild and opening March 19 at the Bartell Theater.
Lavinia followed an unusual path to the stage: It was commissioned by the Wisconsin Law Foundation and developed with the help of state Supreme Court Justice Shirley Abrahamson. This is not the first foray into theater for the foundation or for Justice Abrahamson. In 1998, during the state sesquicentennial, the court system collaborated on a play that dramatized one of Wisconsin's most historic legal cases, a 19th century challenge to the Fugitive Slave Act. Abrahamson became acquainted with Diamond when she directed that project. "That was an instance of bringing together people who worked for the judicial system to create a teaching tool about the legal system," Abrahamson says. "At the time we thought that was such a good experience, maybe we could do it again."
Years later, Abrahamson ran into Diamond at a concert and mentioned the idea of staging a play about another legal milestone. "The obvious other story was about Lavinia Goodell," says Abrahamson. "She happened to be a woman, pursuing the profession of law, but I think it's every person's story. It's about anyone who wants to do something, but they encounter barriers, artificial or not, and then overcome them."
Diamond confesses that she had never heard of Goodell when approached to pen the drama, so she did a lot of research. She studied Goodell's diary and family letters and read articles and books on 19th century legal and social issues.
The resulting play, Lavinia, moves between 1880 and 1855, when Goodell was still living with her family in New York and working as an assistant editor for the newspaper run by her father, the prominent abolitionist William Goodell, and for Harper's Bazaar. She considered studying law, but was discouraged by her mother and sister because it was such a radical idea.
She eventually moved to Janesville, where she studied law on her own. The play intersperses scenes from Goodell's early law career in Janesville, her mother's progressive mental illness and her own battle with ovarian cancer. Tragically, Goodell died at age 40, less than a year after she won the right to argue cases before the Wisconsin Supreme Court.
Diamond says Goodell has such a rich story it was sometimes difficult to narrow the play's scope. But because the project was commissioned by legal groups, she chose to focus on the legal challenges that Goodell faced, first fighting to practice law in Rock County and then arguing for the right to present cases before the state Supreme Court. "And Justice Ryan -- there could be a whole play about him," says Diamond, referring to Justice Edward G. Ryan, the judge who initially denied Goodell's suit on the basis of her sex.
In his 1875 decision, Justice Ryan stated that "womanhood is moulded for gentler and better things" than legal matters, and women should not be permitted to "mix professionally in all the nastiness of the world which finds its way into courts of justice." Nature, he added, "has tempered woman as little for the juridical conflicts of the court room, as for the physical conflicts of the battlefield."
The play resonates with Abrahamson, who, in 1976, became the first woman to serve on the Wisconsin Supreme Court and is now the longest-sitting justice in state history. "As a woman, there were many doors that were still not open when I started to practice law," she says. "I couldn't get past the receptionists at law firms in New York. They simply said they wouldn't hire a woman."
But when asked her opinion on Justice Ryan and his decision, which seems almost comical to modern readers, she demurs. "He was a very bright, able lawyer, and a very important figure in Wisconsin history," says Abrahamson. "There's a bust of him in the foyer of the courtroom at the Capitol. Every time I come in, I nod to him. I'm not sure if he's nodding back at me, but I hope so."
Abrahamson says she is looking forward to seeing Goodell's struggle dramatized on the stage. "Law can change people's minds and actions," says Abrahamson. "Lavinia Goodell's story is one that has to be told."
Lavinia received funding from the Wisconsin Humanities Council. Dena Wortzel, the agency's director, says the play includes strong historical scholarship and embodies the council's mission. "It encourages audiences to ask their own questions about women's lives and work, about what it means to fight for something you believe in, and about our debts to those who came before us," she says. "This is how we love to see the humanities put to work."
After each Madison performance there will be audience talkbacks led by women in the legal profession, including UW law professor Linda Greene. Lavinia will also be presented at the Janesville Performing Arts Center and UW-Marathon County in Wausau. In May, Diamond will travel to Superior to direct a reading of the play at the Douglas County Historical Society.
