American Scientist

Sally Ride is probably best known as the first American woman to go into space, with her mission on June 18, 1983. She was also the youngest American astronaut to fly into space, at the age of 32. In addition, she was also a physicist, educator, and science writer, but it wasn’t until she died at the age of 61 from pancreatic cancer that the public learned, at her request, that she was a lesbian. Her obituary noted that she had been in a partnership with educator and former tennis pro Tam O’Shaughnessy for 27 years.

The new National Geographic documentary film Sally, written, directed, and produced by Cristina Costantini, is largely narrated by O'Shaughnessy and through past recordings of Ride, along with interview footage from Ride's family, friends, and colleagues. Although the film documents her early years and young adulthood, much of the film is centered around Ride's time at NASA and life after that first spaceflight, alongside the ever-present need to hide that she was gay. The film was released on June 16 on National Geographic and was available to stream the next day on Disney+ and Hulu. 

What struck me was how her fellow ascans (astronaut candidates), crew members, friends, and even Bear, Ride’s sister, all talked about how impenetrable Ride was. She rarely shared feelings and was not an easy person to get to know. She was singularly focused on her work and though she’d never admit it, when it came down to her and Judith Resnik vying for a spot on the shuttle, she wanted to be the one NASA chose to go into space. The very qualities that allowed her to succeed and break new ground were the same ones that kept her isolated and aloof.

On top of that tunnel-vision determination, the energy it took to keep an integral part of herself hidden must have been immense. In the 1970s and 1980s, coming out would have risked broad societal backlash and her likely dismissal from NASA because of the Lavender Scare, which was the systematic dismissal of LGBTQ+ individuals from their government jobs because of the fear that these individuals were more likely to be blackmailed because of their sexuality, and were therefore a security risk. There were no openly gay astronauts or ascans back then.

The film also delves into her experience as a woman astronaut: Although Ride acknowledged the importance of representation and how she inspired many young women to continue their interest in and work in STEM fields, she tired of the constant questions and the focus on her sex. She often bristled at being called the “first American woman” in space: That wasn’t how she saw herself, and it wasn’t how she wanted to be known. In the various clips shown, her annoyance is occasionally visible, though she mostly manages to put on a smile and provide a polite but terse answer. She was an astronaut, period. She was the best person for the job.

Although those hoping for a solely space-centered documentary might be disappointed, Sally is a film that allows us to get a small glimpse into a brilliant life. It is a film that seeks to fill in some of the outlines we have of Ride’s life, while acknowledging how much she kept private. Her story reminds us of the costs of success, in a variety of ways.