Critics and fans alike have dubbed this the year of women’s comedy, which is a huge and wonderful step forward for female comedians. But this isn’t the first time women have ever been funny (I hate the “ZOMG, women can be funny #whoknew” attitude). It’s time to pay homage to the greats starting with Lucille Ball.

I grew up trying to contort my face into the many facial expressions I observed on the incredibly expressive face of Lucille Ball. Remember the time she first tasted Vitameatavegamin? Her face exploded in disgust. Her mouth formed a distinctive frown, her brow furrowed and her eyes drooped.

That was merely one classic face that coupled with a myriad of others: the way she would look so tragically victimized when Ricky caught her in the act of one of her many zany escapades. The way her mouth formed a perfect O when she was shocked, upset or surprised. The twinkle in her eye that when she hatched a new scheme. We bow to her gifts.

Ball earned a cult following as the well-intentioned but ubiquitously troublesome Lucy Ricardo. Audiences loved her for her follies, and subsequently sympathized with her as she stretched her face in her signature, “WAH!” as she got caught. But Lucille Ball was more than just a comedic genius who employed both situation and vaudeville styles, she was a powerful, courageous off-stage lady.

She was the first woman in television to be the head of a production company, Desilu, which she completely took over when she and Desi divorced. I Love Lucy was the first show to feature a pregnant woman prominently and Desi Jr. — or as the audience knew him, Little Ricky — was the first child “born” on screen. To round out her experience, Ball even taught a 32-week comedy workshop at the Brandeis-Bardin Institute. Ball was bold.

What makes her work great is her shameless attitude on camera. She is famous for saying, “I’m not funny. What I am is brave.” Paired with a touch of poise, a splash of wit and a dash of natural likability, Ball had it all.

What’s sad about Ball is that her legacy seems to be disappearing into the faded tapestry of history. I recently found myself in Jamestown, her hometown, where I went to the Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz Center for Comedy, a.k.a. a museum in their honor. (Let me just say, it was one of the best days of my life.) What depressed me most was the age of those at the museum: all over 60. Though I have no qualms with this age group enjoying and appreciating Lucy more than most, I wondered: where has she gone? In an age of burgeoning comedic acts and personas, are we losing touch with our roots? Are we losing Lucy?

But as I moved through the museum and all of the pieces of comedic genius that she helped perfect, I realize you see touches of Lucy everywhere: in the elastic face of Kristen Wiig, in the overzealous but lovable attitude of Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler’s characer on Parks and Recreation). Though she may not be in the limelight, the techniques she championed remain startlingly present: the lovable, red-headed, wit-spitting, mouth-full-of-chocolates Lucy. In a society that is constantly looking forward, we should remember to look back every once in a while and remember Lucy. So perhaps this year is not the “Year of Women’s Comedy,” but instead the year where more people fully recognized the genius of women’s comedy that has always existed.