Tan Yunxian 談允賢 was a doctor. She never received a diploma or the official title, but she saved or improved the lives of countless rural people who would not have had access to proper medical care because of their sex.

During the Ming Dynasty, a woman’s modesty and virtue were her most prized possessions, and to protect them the social customs governing interactions between men and women were incredibly strict. Because all doctors at the time were male, women often suffered incomplete or inaccurate diagnoses assuming they could seek medical treatment at all.

A woman was required to bring a male relative to the appointment. The doctor would speak only to this relative, the patient would not be allowed to advocate for herself directly. The physician would be very limited in the physical examination, even taking her pulse would require permission from the watching male protector, and depending on her status, the doctor might not even be allowed to see his patient, examining the woman from behind a screen or vale.

Into this society was born Tan Yunxian. In 1461 she was into a family of respected physicians. Her grandparents noticed that she was incredibly bright and had a thirst for knowledge. During a time when most women were not educated beyond the 4^th grade, they took the extraordinary step of training her in the family business. Their intention was probably to have her assist her brothers as a nurse of sorts, and for a while, that is exactly what happened, but their training and her diligent study would eventually result in China’s first female-run practice devoted mostly to obstetrics and pediatrics.

Because Tan could physically examine women when other doctors could not, she garnered significantly better results than her male counterparts. Her female neighbors flocked to her and she became the unofficial local provider specializing in “woman’s issues.” She would birth hundreds of babies and diagnose and treat countless women, but she would never be allowed to bear the title of doctor or run an accredited practice. We only know of her today because of the records of 31 patients that she kept and assembled into a book entitled 女医杂言 Sayings of a Female Doctor. The laws of the day did not permit printers and booksellers to reproduce or circulate women’s work, so her son had to have the wood printing blocks made for her and which self-published and distributed.

She must have really known her stuff because she would survive to the age of 93 (96 by some accounts). Shockingly long life by modern standards and nearly unheard of in her era. Long before the west would produce Elizabeth Blackwell, Tan left a legacy of service, tenacity, and medical excellence that was almost lost to time.

KEEP READING: The Women Time (Almost) Forgot – The Artist

Images: Pexels

History is filled with lost stories and unlauded achievements. All too often those untold stories belong to women, minorities, and those who are economically disadvantaged. But that doesn’t mean those contributions didn’t happen. In fact, fairly often those unnoticed events have huge ripple effects on economies, cultures, and social welfare. So in honor of women’s history month, we sought out four women in Chinese history whose stories are relatively unknown. Each of the next four Throwback Thursdays will be devoted to giving them a small measure of very belated credit. And because we build on the foundation these women laid we are going to institute Future Fridays. We will feature an amazing member of the Beijing community who is building on the work of the past and making her own contribution to the world and history right here in our neighborhood. We hope you enjoy these glimpses into these forgotten stories and they inspire you to do your own research into worthy but unrecognized historical figures and maybe drive you to make a little history of your own!

This week we take a moment to explore artist Chen Shu (陳書), a modern woman in an ancient time.

Chen Shu was a remarkable person who helped birth the Xiushui school of painting that is so widely admired and respected around the world. Her works of art hang in prestigious galleries including the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the National Palace Museum in Taipei. She is sought after by private collectors and commands high prices at Christie’s Auction house but remarkably little is known about her life. Most of the sources I could find are single sentences in biographies of other famous men of her time. Let’s see if we can’t piece those bits together and give her work and contributions a little more credit.

Born in 1660 to a literati family she self-studied art, embroidery, and classical poetry under her parents. As was common for young ladies of her time she married young, but her husband passed on leaving her with a son to raise and a household to support. She turned to her skills as a painter and teacher. During the day she would educate other young women in the skills she had learned from her parents and at night she would paint. The next morning she would send her work to the market over 10 kilometers away for resale and start the entire process over again. She was the original working mom and not unlike today she-roes she was unappreciated.

Neither her art nor her work as a teacher made her famous or wealthy. Like many women of her era, she would succeed through her son, Qian Chenqun. Thanks to her efforts in providing for the family he was able to study and rise to prominence within the Imperial Court. He presented some of Chen’s work to the Emperor who became an avid admirer of her work and added her art to the Imperial collection.

Because of her gender and lack of official training she was never acknowledged as a master painter but almost 300 years after her death her work survives and the style of art she helped to create and proliferate is iconic.

KEEP READING: Throwback Thursday: A Brief History of China’s Caped Crusaders

Image: Chinese Social Sciences Today