Something Borrowed, Something Blue
Evelyn Schwartz, later Baird, later Stefansson, later Nef was a puppeteer, speaker, author, geographer, instructor, and psychologist, in that order. By the end of her life, she boasted three husbands and proficiency in as many languages. The contributions she made to academia and scientific research went far beyond what many would have deemed her potential when her father died in her youth, leaving her and her older siblings to fend for themselves with a mother who shut down completely and never spoke another word.
Her career grows more impressive the more that is learned about her. The thread that connects her consistently surprising track record is her status as a married woman—and to whom she married. In the 1930s-70s, which comprised the majority of her working years, connections through marriage were a valuable asset for career women, which Nef was adamant to be, even when her spouse had plenty of money. For women, there were a limited number of ways to gain access to broad audiences or to be taken seriously in job applications. But in mid-century America, women were more interested in having a career than ever before. The framework for pursuing a career had not quite caught up, placing marriage in a paradoxical role where it still remains, both a potential hindrance to a fulfilling career as well as, for some, the only shot at one. So while Nef’s story is quite extraordinary, many women were in situations like hers, and many still are.
“In the 1930s-70s, which comprised the majority of her working years, connections through marriage were a valuable asset for career women, which Nef was adamant to be, even when her spouse had plenty of money.”
Nef proved her resourcefulness with her first husband, Bil Baird, who was a puppeteer. Easily adaptable with a background in art from high school, she quickly learned the skills to join him in his career. Without much of a plan, this was sufficient temporarily. She was in love with Baird, and now she had money and a place to live. But her immense potential would not be slated by a career determined by her husband. After a number of disagreements, the young couple soon split up. This first marriage provided Nef comfort that she could make it in the world without the support of her parents, neither of whom could help her now, and without draining her siblings of their resources, who were fending for themselves as well.
Nef first met her second husband, the famed Arctic explorer Vilhaljmur “Stef” Stefansson, through mutual friends in New York City. The pair became friends, and after her divorce from Baird, she started working for him as the librarian of his collection. They soon married, able to look past their 35-year age difference, and Nef continued on her whirlwind career. Why shouldn’t a puppeteer and artist be the librarian to one of the top researchers of her day?
Nef’s first foray into speaking and writing—which she eventually did prolifically—was at Stefansson’s encouragement, largely because he was too busy to take every request for an appearance. She could do it, he suggested, since her theater background made her immune to stage fright and comfortable with the attention of a crowd, on which she thrived. And after a while, the day came when it was her appearance that people requested. No more a mere substitute for her famous husband, Nef became a commodity all on her own. The irony that Stefansson’s encouragement came from an exhaustion or preoccupation with other projects is almost beside the point. Regardless of his motivation, the choices he made provided her the opportunity to interact with a captive audience of readers or listeners. All Nef needed was a chance.
She leapt at the chance she was given. She studied Russian at Middlebury, completing her work one summer at a time. She published articles on the meat-based diet she and Stefansson followed after understanding the health benefits from the Native Americans he worked with in the Arctic. There were times when one might be mistaken into thinking it was Nef, not Stef, who was the insatiable researcher here. But in actuality, it seems her constant curiosity latched onto whatever was new and exciting and nearby. And when she was with Stef, she was at the cutting edge of Arctic research.
Nef published a middle-grade book on Alaska, which sold so well it was ready for a second edition that fell conveniently around the commemoration of statehood in 1959. However, Nef wrote that first edition without ever having been there—relying only on the extensive library Stef had amassed. Publishers’ interest in her work, largely because of the name Stefansson, would not have been possible without her husband. Neither would her research, as this self-described barely-high-school graduate would not have had access to the most recent publications in the industry. Neither would her eventual travel to Alaska in preparation for later editions of the book.
Nef was also one of the first women to teach a course at Dartmouth College. She and Stefansson were invited to the College to help coordinate the new Arctic Studies Program, and Stefansson left most of the administrative responsibilities up to his wife. But the story gets even more impressive, yet again: Nef didn’t hold a college degree even as she became one of the early female instructors at the then-all-male Ivy league institution.
Soon after the death of her beloved Stef, Evelyn met and married John Nef, a very wealthy—and well-connected—man within the upper social circles of Washington D.C. On his arm, Nef met prominent artists, politicians, and writers. Marc Chagall and his wife were such close personal friends of the couple that he gifted them a one-of-a-kind mosaic on the side of their home. Because of this security and saturation of inspiration, Nef pivoted again. She studied for and became a practicing psychologist, another iteration of her intense capability and scientific curiosity. Her third husband was also supportive of her curiosities and career ambitions, even as they were past the age that many choose to retire. Nef was voracious. But she eventually had to stop practicing psychology after an update to her malpractice insurance deemed her education insufficient. In her autobiography, Nef joked that she was not sure her high school degree even qualified, as it was, in her words, mostly art classes.
“That is, Nef got a chance to pursue things like publishing and teaching that she would not have without her marriages, but she would not have been great at them if she was not already extraordinary.”
A discussion of Nef’s networking prowess should not discount her extraordinary skills. Acknowledging the benefits of Nef’s high-profile marriages does not imply that anyone who happened to marry who she did would have accomplished what she did. That is, Nef got a chance to pursue things like publishing and teaching that she would not have without her marriages, but she would not have been great at them if she was not already extraordinary. However, any woman with Nef’s potential would have had trouble getting published or finding speaking gigs, simply because she was not a man.
The lessons learned from Nef’s remarkable story are critical in our world that still struggles to allow women professionals, especially those in fields that require publishing original work, the freedom to marry and have a career. It is yet another binary that women are expected to choose between. And though today, navigating a trailing spouse or maternity leave in an unsympathetic industry can hold women back, marriage was once critical to lifting women into positions of privilege and prominence. Ned did love her husbands. But she was also plucky, savvy, and operating in a world where LinkedIn did not exist.
And so there it is, a seemingly small kernel to derive from a story as massive as Nef’s: marriage was a very real form of networking for women in mid-century America, especially those in search of a career. Who you know, it seems, has always been quite important in the cutthroat world of publishing and research. It remains an important factor today. It is critical, then, that the retroactive lens does not discount the women who took advantage of marriage as a networking tool. Today’s women professionals are often asked to choose between a career and a family, but for Evelyn Nef, at least, it was the springboard that launched an incredibly capable woman into a world that would have otherwise been completely out of her reach. The realm of Arctic Studies would be the worse off for it.
Further Reading
Find her manuscript collection at Rauner Special Collections Library, Dartmouth College; read Evelyn’s books, Here is Alaska or Within the Circle, or an interview with her from 2002, before her death.
Image credit: Photo of Evelyn Stefansson Nef, from Northern Studies collection, folder 1329, #127089. Courtesy of Dartmouth College Library.
