Who can call themselves a cowgirl? Let’s refer to the Queen of the cowgirls, Dale Evans, who famously said, “Cowgirl is an attitude, really; a pioneer spirit, a special American brand of courage.”
Women earning wages from cow work are an elite and small percentage of the ranching industry but they are there, absolutely dedicated to their craft and definitely ding the bell at the top of the cool-o-meter. Memorably, I had stopped at a gas station in Nevada’s lonely Great Basin region when two young women sauntered in, tall buckaroo boots with spurs jingling, palm hats pulled to their eyebrows and a light powdering of dust from eyelashes to the leather work gloves stuffed into their back pockets. They knew they were bad ass and I may sing about cowboy life but these gals were living it.
I don’t exactly know how the lowly herdsmen of the wide open spaces of the American West became the worldwide symbol of freedom and an independent spirit, but I suppose John Wayne and the Hollywood machine contributed to the image. The black and white versions of the women of the West on the silver screens were perfectly coiffed and relegated to being rescued, so it’s very insightful of Dale Evans to recognize a deeper definition of what a “cowgirl” is and to recognize that admirable qualities of the cowboy character cross gender lines.
When I first began writing songs about my life in the rural West, I largely felt like an imposter sharing the stage with the greats such as Baxter Black, Belinda Gail, Sons of the San Joaquin and Don Edward and so many others. I knew I was somehow thrown into a world that was special among artists that authentically understood and loved cowboy culture and had dedicated themselves to this remote corner of American folk music. In the company of these modern day troubadores, I learned my craft and was gently welcomed until one day when I put that big flat brim on and strapped on my guitar, I knew I belonged. Authenticity came when I fully accepted who I am and what I have in my heart to share.
My simple cowboy songs have placed me in the company of cowgirls that Dale was referring to who have touched my life with their brand of courage and their indomitable pioneer spirit. Many of these women, like one of my newer friends, Kathleen, have no doubt of their cowgirl credibility with a lifetime of ranch life under her belt and a style and swagger that is unmistakable. Other friends, like my friend Donna who has just endured several months in a detention facility would hesitate to refer to herself as a cowgirl, but is cowgirl to the core when it comes to helping the vulnerable women around her that need her wisdom and resources even in the face of her own dire needs.
I have a favorite photo that captures a group of steely eyed cowgirls in the cool of a red rock overhang in South Central Utah near the Big Sandy Ranch. I’m the one with two dark braids and an unrestrained grin. We were on a ride organized by Celia Snow that was remarkable for the fact that it was an all female crew and the women in that photograph are legends in the western world, many of whom I still maintain a friendship and deep respect for. There’s swagger and confidence in the face of every woman, far away from the cloak of invisibility that life throws over women, especially women of a certain age. We were outlaws for the afternoon with no care for trips to the grocery store or doctors appointments.
There’s a large portion of my heart that wishes I could whisk every woman away for a week, a day an hour to be in the company of cowgirls. Certainly this is why I organize events like the upcoming Cowgirls Forever Camp to attend Art of the Cowgirl. Maybe every woman in a good pair of boots could feel her power in a new way and finally smile with the understanding that she is as cowgirl as they come considering Dale’s definition. Cowgirl is an attitude. It’s a title you can claim if you feel called.
