"Are you sure you want this 'leg show' on your resume?" This question, posed to me by the dean of Albany State Teachers College (before it became a part of SUNY) has haunted me since I competed in the Miss America Pageant in 1958.

When I was a girl, 55 million nationwide tuned in to watch contestants from each state compete each second Saturday in September. We girls all dreamed of becoming Miss America and now it was my chance to win a scholarship to pay for voice lessons outside of my college studies. As one of the "also rans," I was satisfied to have competed and moved on to graduate school.

With the rise of the women's movement in the decades to follow, feminists like Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem created a new world in which beauty pageants held no status. As a result, I never did include my Miss New York State experience on my resume. In fact, it's usually the last thing new friends and acquaintances learn about me.

Yet today I feel obligated to defend the Miss America pageant. It has spawned copies — Miss World, Miss Universe, Miss USA — which all are becoming confused in the public's mind with the original contest, which still thrives in Atlantic City. For example, late-night comedian and Britisher John Oliver used a Miss Teen USA participant's confused answer as an example of a Miss America contestant's, when it came from a completely separate contest.

Miss America remains an outstanding opportunity for talented young women whose answers are usually fully coherent. Bess Meyerson spent years on the "Today" show, later replaced by Lee Meriwether. Gretchen Carlson, formerly of Fox News, became a top broadcaster, and now an activist. Prior to becoming Miss America 2018, Cara Mund was recognized by President Barack Obama for her charitable efforts. Many more former contestants have had significant careers, using the Miss America scholarships as part of their path to success.

Depending on the whims of the organizers, Miss Universe contestants may or may not have to compete with a talent. Miss America features talent as an important part of the competition. The Miss America winners have always been chosen by worthy judges by a point system. When I competed, the judges included playwright Moss Hart, television notable Kitty Carlisle, publisher Bennett Cerf and conductor Mitch Miller.

In contrast, when owned by Donald Trump, the Miss Universe pageant judges were strictly for show; the finalists and winners were chosen by his "Rule of Beauty," according to whether they came from countries where he had business interests. Rolling Stone magazine recounted the extent of Trump's creepiness as he inspected the contestants individually, asking them to judge each other. When a Latin American winner gained some weight, he publicly called her "Miss Piggy" and "Miss Housekeeping." Miss Teen America contestants said that he would come into their dressing rooms when the girls were half-dressed and then brag about how he kept all other men out.

Unlike Miss Universe, the Miss America pageant has always been a safe place for contestants. When I was in Atlantic City, no men, including our brothers or fathers, were allowed to enter the dressing rooms, as Trump did in the Miss Universe pageant.

That's not to say the Miss America pageant has been free of scandal. Recently, CEO Sam Haskell and two male Miss America board members indulged themselves with misogynistic emails regarding some contestants, and were summarily asked to resign. While digital insults are unfortunate, such behavior is not as egregious as hanging out in the contestant's dressing room. Now that Carlson, who was crowned Miss America in 1987, has taken the reins of the organization, such behavior is not apt to repeat.

And the contest has tangible benefits for those who compete. Eileen Clark, who was Miss New York in 1982, won a talent preliminary, leading to performance opportunities with the Syracuse Opera totaling $10,000, which she used for her graduate and voice studies and a successful singing career. By comparison, the $500 scholarship I used for voice lessons and graduate school may seem minuscule, but it went a long way when I competed as Miss New York via the Miss Rensselaer pageant in 1958.

Yes, we endured, with great trepidation, the swimsuit competition part — a bit of a bargain with the devil, a bow to that eternally present national cultural fascination disparaged by my dean as a "leg show." But if that's the worst one can say about the pageant, Miss America should be just fine, so long as Donald Trump doesn't take over any more pageants as a post-presidential hobby.

Miriam S. Russell, of Troy, is a retired Empire State College professor and author of the memoir "Suddenly Single: A Life After Death," which includes more on her experience as a Miss America contestant.