More Than A Magazine, A Movement
Weekend Reading for Women’s Representation is a compilation of stories about women’s representation.
This week: Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris did not lose to Donald Trump because they were women; Maine Secretary of State Shenna Bellows announces run for governor; it’s looking increasingly likely that a woman may be elected in 2026 in Alaska; women will disproportionately feel the effect of Trump’s tariffs; and more.
The possible return to a near total abortion ban in Wisconsin—which depends on the outcome of the April 1 state Supreme Court election—would gravely interfere with Dr. Anna Igler’s work as an OB-GYN near Green Bay.
“Terrible things happen in pregnancy,” said Anna Igler, an OB-GYN near Green Bay. “All babies aren’t healthy and all pregnancies are not healthy for the baby or the mother. That’s just biology.”
She knows that firsthand.
As the Trump administration’s attacks on women’s rights, reproductive access and LGBTQ equality continue in force, state executive leaders have emerged as potent frontline responders.
Among the tools in states’ arsenals are often underused state-level equal rights amendments (ERAs). Even as the federal ERA remains in limbo, an unlikely bulwark for the next four years—see professor Laurence Tribe’s Contrarian piece explaining its legal status—29 states have some form of an ERA (e.g., broader sex equality language than the U.S. Constitution) written into their constitutions. Several have already been used to advance abortion rights (Pennsylvania, Connecticut and New Mexico); many are broadly worded and inclusive of protection against pregnancy discrimination, age, disability and immigration status. Issues such as pay transparency and addressing gender-based violence also could be bolstered by a state ERA.
This Women’s History Month, we remember President Jimmy Carter’s role in establishing this official observance of women’s achievements, his related support for the Equal Rights Amendment, and some unsung heroes in the Senate Wives Club who were instrumental in gaining Carter’s support for an ERA milestone that advanced, but ultimately failed to achieve, ERA ratification.
The contributions of Senate wives in the 1970s, particularly their efforts to help delay the ERA’s ratification deadline, often go unrecognized even today.
Samantha Casiano, an east Texas mother of four, tells her story of life and loss:
“I found out that my baby daughter had no chance of being able to live outside my womb at my 20-week ultrasound. … I felt that what happened to us should be everybody’s business. The people in power in Texas forced me to give birth with their abortion ban. I wanted everyone to know who Halo was and how she suffered.
“We all try to visit Halo’s grave every Sunday, and we’ll have a party for her second birthday on March 29 with a cake. We call her birthday her ‘Freedom Day.’ The day she was born is the day she was finally free to go to heaven. She shouldn’t have been on this earth, but the state of Texas forced her to be here, and she fought a fight we all knew she would lose.”
In every issue of Ms., we track research on our progress in the fight for equality, catalogue can’t-miss quotes from feminist voices and keep tabs on the feminist movement’s many milestones. We’re Keeping Score online, too—in this biweekly roundup.
This week: Trump pulled university funding and arrested student leaders over pro-Palestine protests; a Texas midwife faces felony charges for providing abortion care; Congress members avoid town halls after Department of Education and other federal agencies were decimated; abortion bans threaten the lives of Black mothers; and more.
Over the course of a week in early March, five antiabortion pregnancy clinics in Arkansas had an eye-catching visitor: a huge mobile billboard, in Handmaid’s Tale-red, reading:
CAUTION!
Pregnancy Help Clinics in Arkansas DO NOT OFFER ABORTION.
HIPAA PRIVACY PROTECTIONS MAY NOT APPLY.
The first-of-its-kind digital billboard tour was the brainchild of Mayday Health—which the Arkansas Times dubbed “a zero-fucks-given nonprofit”—whose mission is to share information on how to access safe abortion pills and gender-affirming care, and empower people to make their own informed decision about their own bodies.
Federal judges ordered the reinstatement of workers terminated based on their probationary status—a blow to the Trump administration. But for many fired feds, this welcome news does not mean a return to work. For me and most of my colleagues in HHS’ Administration for Children and Families, for instance, we will continue to receive our pay and benefits, but we won’t be allowed to work. One might think that this is a pretty good deal—but only if you don’t know federal employees.
Some of my colleagues shared with me their stories of uncertainty, loss and an unfinished mission to serve the public.
—My first colleague, a change management specialist, was nervous about rumored changes to the federal workforce, but buoyed by the encouragement of his mentors who said, “This is your dream. The way you light up, this is the thing we want in federal employees. Roll the dice, go for it.”
—Another, a policy analyst specializing in children’s issues, said she was living out her dream job. When she found out she was fired, she was on bedrest for a high-risk pregnancy. In a cruel twist of fate, it was Valentine’s Day … and also the anniversary of her previous stillbirth.
Women—especially Black women—are still fighting for equal rights and opportunities in the U.S. Meanwhile, members of Congress are threatening to undermine the hard-fought, fundamental right to vote for all Americans, including millions of women, under the guise of misleading allegations of voter fraud. And they’re ironically calling it the Safeguard American Voter Eligibility (SAVE) Act.
Make no mistake: The SAVE Act is not going to “save” anything. This legislation would create unnecessary barriers to registering to vote in every state. It would require all voters to provide proof of citizenship documents in person when registering to vote or updating their registration—provisions that effectively end online, automatic, and mail-in voter registration. Women who change their name after marriage or divorce would face unnecessary barriers to registering to vote.
A few years ago, I went searching for Pauli Murray. By that point, the poet, civil rights activist and pioneering legal scholar had been dead for 35 years. But in researching her life for the book I was working on, I’d learned about the profound impact that her work had had on the very fabric of America and particularly on the country’s legal system. I was convinced that because of everything Murray had done—the extent to which she had shaped movements and laws and lives—she would have to be remembered prominently and publicly. It was probably just my own fault, I reasoned, that I hadn’t previously heard of her.
Like millions of others around the world, I have spent the last few weeks oscillating between fear, anger and sadness as I’ve watched the new U.S. administration neglect the core values of democracy and wreak havoc with the systems that have propped up this country for centuries. With no way of changing the mind of a morally bankrupt megalomaniac, I’m concentrating on what I can do. Since I’ve learned of her remarkable life, I’ve loved telling people about Murray; about the unlikely against-all-odds battles she faced head-on—public wars she waged while simultaneously grappling with her own often-debilitating private troubles. If the federal government chooses to ignore those upon whose shoulders we all stand, those of us who recognize the indignity of this will simply have to make up for it by telling their stories loudly, telling their stories often and then repeating them over and over and over again. It is, after all, what Pauli Murray would do.