The Sharpest SNAP Decline in Nearly 30 Years Is Happening Right Now

More than 3 million people stopped participating in the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) between July 2025 and January 2026—a decline of roughly 8 percent nationwide and the steepest drop in the program’s caseload in nearly three decades.

The sharp decrease followed enactment of the One Big Beautiful Bill Act (HR 1), which made historic changes to SNAP and shifted significant new costs and administrative responsibilities onto states.

What makes the decline notable is that it has not been accompanied by a corresponding improvement in economic conditions. SNAP participation has historically expanded during periods of need and gradually declined as low-income households experienced sustained economic recovery. This time, however, enrollment has fallen far more rapidly than during previous recoveries, even as unemployment has remained relatively stable.

The trend echoes the last major contraction in SNAP participation following the 1996 welfare law, which introduced stricter eligibility rules and work requirements.

As states implement additional provisions of HR 1 in the months ahead, researchers and anti-hunger advocates warn that participation could continue to fall, potentially leaving more households without assistance to afford groceries.

Trump’s White House UFC Fight Is a Master Class in Fake Populism

The UFC cage fight scheduled for June 14 on the White House lawn has been dismissed by some as harmless entertainment and condemned by others as authoritarian theater. But there’s another way to understand it: as a political strategy. By bringing one of America’s most hypermasculine spectacles to the nation’s most recognizable symbol of power, Donald Trump is signaling to his base—especially working-class men—that he still sees them, respects them and shares their cultural grievances, even as his policies continue to favor the wealthy.

The event reflects a longstanding formula in right-wing populism. When politicians cannot—or will not—deliver material improvements in workers’ lives, they offer something else: recognition, validation and cultural solidarity. Trump has built much of his political appeal on this approach, celebrating professions associated with toughness and masculinity while advancing an economic agenda that benefits plutocrats. The White House UFC fight is the latest expression of that bargain.

At the center of the spectacle is UFC CEO Dana White, whose close relationship with Trump has helped elevate mixed martial arts from the margins to the mainstream. Together, the two men have blurred the lines between sports, entertainment and politics, transforming a cage fight into a made-for-TV display of power, masculinity and populist branding at one of the most consequential moments in American democracy.

How I Became a Feminist Historian, and Why It Matters Now More Than Ever

In August, the Department of Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies at the University of Texas at Austin will close. I joined the department last year after leaving the University of Iowa’s Gender, Women’s and Sexuality Studies department, which also closed this year. As programs in women’s studies, ethnic studies and Black studies disappear across the country, I’ve found myself reflecting on how I became a feminist historian—and why this work matters now more than ever.

Back in 2005, as an undergraduate student at San Francisco State University, I took a course on feminist activists and read Angela Davis’ *Women, Race, and Class*. Davis argued that the experiences of Black women could only be understood through the intersecting forces of race, gender and class—and that confronting racism, misogyny and poverty was essential to liberation. From that moment, I knew a feminist view of history could transform how I understood present-day inequality and how I wanted to teach those ideas to future students.

For years, I brought that framework into the classroom, helping students connect the histories of voting rights, reproductive justice, racial discrimination and gendered violence to the challenges they see unfolding around them today. As feminist studies and ethnic studies programs come under increasing attack, I remain convinced that this work is indispensable. Nearly 45 years after Davis historicized the triad of women, race and class, we still need that critical lens to understand our world—and to defend human dignity and justice within it.

Feminist Lessons from 2020 to Present: The Fight for Democracy Is Far From Over

The decade opened amid a pandemic, economic upheaval and a reckoning over democracy itself.

In early 2020, Virginia became the 38th state to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment, seemingly bringing a nearly 50-year constitutional struggle to a historic milestone.

Yet within months, COVID-19 exposed the deep inequalities that feminists had long warned about. Millions of women—especially women of color—lost jobs, left the workforce to shoulder caregiving responsibilities or found themselves on the front lines of a public health crisis. As the country debated recovery, feminists argued that the economy itself was built on the underpaid and often invisible labor of women.

At the same time, Kamala Harris became the first woman and first woman of color elected vice president, while President Joe Biden assembled the first gender-balanced Cabinet and later appointed Ketanji Brown Jackson as the first Black woman justice on the Supreme Court.

Then came Dobbs. In June 2022, nearly 50 years after Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court overturned the constitutional right to abortion, triggering bans and severe restrictions across much of the country. Clinics closed, patients traveled hundreds of miles for care, and pregnancy criminalization accelerated.

The decision was not an isolated event but part of a broader wave of attacks on reproductive rights, LGBTQ+ rights, voting rights and democratic institutions themselves. As Ms. observed throughout the decade, the same forces seeking to control women’s bodies were also working to restrict participation in a multiracial democracy.

Yet even as rights were rolled back, women continued to build political power. The number of women serving in Congress and state legislatures reached record highs, the gender gap remained a decisive force in elections, and support for feminist priorities—including abortion rights and the ERA—continued to grow.

The lesson of the 2020s is both sobering and hopeful: Progress is never permanent, but neither is backlash. Every generation inherits unfinished struggles, and the future of democracy depends on whether people are willing to organize, participate and fight for the freedoms they refuse to lose.

This essay is part of Feminist Lessons—part 2 of Ms.’ our three-part FEMINIST 250 project—which explores what each decade of modern feminist history can teach us about power, democracy, backlash and social change.

Feminist Lessons from the 2010s: When Millions Refused to Go Back, Feminists Turned Backlash Into Power

The 2010s began with a burst of feminist victories that seemed to signal a new era.

Barack Obama signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, appointed Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan to the Supreme Court, and signed the Affordable Care Act into law. For millions of women, the ACA transformed healthcare almost overnight: Insurers could no longer charge women more than men, deny coverage because of a previous C-section or experience of domestic violence, or exclude maternity care. Contraception, well-woman visits, breastfeeding support and other preventive services became available without out-of-pocket costs, saving women billions of dollars.

Meanwhile, the administration strengthened protections for survivors of sexual assault, expanded support for Indigenous, immigrant and LGBTQ survivors of violence, and advanced women’s rights globally.

But beneath those gains, another story was unfolding. State lawmakers introduced hundreds of abortion restrictions, anti-choice politicians targeted contraception and family planning programs, and Republicans repeatedly attacked the very policies feminists had fought to secure.

Then came the political earthquake of 2016. Hillary Clinton became the first woman nominated for president by a major political party, only to lose to Donald Trump after one of the most openly misogynistic campaigns in modern history.

Within months, Trump reinstated the global gag rule, undermined reproductive healthcare programs, rolled back Title IX protections and began reshaping the federal judiciary with far-right judges whose influence would last for decades.

Yet the defining story of the decade was not the backlash itself—it was the response. Nearly 6 million people joined Women’s Marches in 2017, making them the largest single-day protest in U.S. history at the time. Survivors launched the #MeToo movement into a global reckoning over sexual harassment and abuse. Women flipped 40 House seats in the 2018 midterms, revived the Equal Rights Amendment campaign and elected record numbers of women to office.

The lesson of the 2010s is that backlash can become fuel. Faced with escalating attacks on their rights, millions of feminists refused to go back—and instead transformed resistance into political power.

This essay is part of Feminist Lessons—part 2 of Ms.’ our three-part FEMINIST 250 project—which explores what each decade of modern feminist history can teach us about power, democracy, backlash and social change.

Feminist Lessons from the 2000s: The Power of a Feminist Majority

The 2000s opened with a contradiction: Feminist ideas had never been more popular—polls found that overwhelming majorities of women and substantial majorities of men agreed with the basic definition of feminism—yet conservatives controlled Washington and were steadily advancing restrictions on reproductive freedom.

George W. Bush entered the White House and immediately reinstated the global gag rule. Congress passed the first federal abortion ban since Roe v. Wade. Abstinence-only sex education received a flood of federal funding. And feminists watched nervously as Bush filled Supreme Court vacancies, aware that the future of abortion rights could hinge on those appointments.

Meanwhile, Ms. and the Feminist Majority Foundation joined forces, combining journalism and organizing at a moment when both would be needed.

The human consequences of these policies were impossible to ignore. Women like Martha Mendoza, who lost a wanted pregnancy at 19 weeks, found themselves trapped by abortion restrictions that limited doctors’ ability to provide care.

At the same time, feminists were building one of the largest movements in the country. In April 2004, more than 1 million people flooded the National Mall for the March for Women’s Lives, carrying signs, chanting “This is what democracy looks like!” and demanding protection for reproductive freedom.

Two years later, Ms. revived its historic “We Have Had Abortions” petition, first published in 1972, gathering hundreds of new signatures in defiance of mounting attacks on abortion rights.

Yet the decade also demonstrated the power of a movement that had become a cultural majority. Feminists helped secure over-the-counter access to emergency contraception, elected the first woman Speaker of the House in Nancy Pelosi, and delivered a decisive gender gap victory for Barack Obama in 2008.

By the end of the decade, the White House had once again rescinded the global gag rule and expanded support for reproductive healthcare.

The lesson of the 2000s is that public support alone is not enough—but it matters. Even when political institutions lag behind public opinion, a determined majority can organize, mobilize and lay the groundwork for transformative change.

This essay is part of Feminist Lessons—part 2 of Ms.’ our three-part FEMINIST 250 project—which explores what each decade of modern feminist history can teach us about power, democracy, backlash and social change.

Feminist Lessons From the 1990s: How Women Became a Political Force

The 1990s began with feminists determined not to surrender the ground they had fought for in the Reagan era—and almost immediately, the stakes became impossible to ignore.

In October 1991, millions of Americans watched Anita Hill testify before an all-male Senate Judiciary Committee about sexual harassment allegations against Supreme Court nominee Clarence Thomas. Outside the hearing room, seven women members of Congress marched to the Senate in protest. Inside living rooms across the country, conversations about workplace harassment that had long been dismissed or ignored suddenly became national news.

When Thomas was confirmed anyway, many women responded not with resignation, but with political action.

The result was the 1992 “Year of the Woman.” At the start of the decade, only two women served in the U.S. Senate. Then voters elected four new women senators in a single election cycle, including Carol Moseley Braun, the first Black woman ever elected to the Senate. Women candidates flooded congressional races, and women voters helped decide the presidential election.

Once in office, this new generation of lawmakers translated representation into policy, championing landmark legislation including the Family and Medical Leave Act, the Violence Against Women Act and the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act.

Women also won expanded investments in women’s health and services for survivors of violence, while Ruth Bader Ginsburg joined the Supreme Court and women entered Cabinet positions in unprecedented numbers.

Yet the decade’s gains unfolded alongside mounting threats. Antiabortion violence escalated, with clinic bombings, arsons and murders targeting providers and staff. Conservative media figures like Rush Limbaugh built audiences by mainstreaming misogyny and resentment, helping create the foundation for today’s right-wing media ecosystem.

But despite those forces, feminism entered the mainstream: By the mid-1990s, large majorities of both women and men identified with feminist values.

The lesson of the 1990s is that political power matters. When women organize, vote, run for office and govern, they do more than change who holds power—they change what government can accomplish.

This essay is part of Feminist Lessons—part 2 of Ms.’ our three-part FEMINIST 250 project—which explores what each decade of modern feminist history can teach us about power, democracy, backlash and social change.

Feminist Lessons From the 1980s: Why Every Movement Faces Backlash

The 1980s opened with a sense of uncertainty for feminists. Just years after the Supreme Court’s Roe v. Wade decision, the passage of Title IX and the near-ratification of the Equal Rights Amendment, Ronald Reagan swept into office backed by a newly energized religious right determined to reverse many of the gains women had won in the previous decade.

Across the country, antiabortion activists organized at the state level, the ERA’s ratification deadline expired, and conservative leaders framed feminism itself as a threat to American values. What had felt like a period of rapid progress in the 1970s suddenly gave way to a fierce political and cultural backlash.

The decade was marked by escalating attacks on reproductive freedom. Reagan expanded antiabortion policies, implemented the global gag rule and sought to further entrench the Hyde Amendment’s restrictions on abortion funding. Meanwhile, antiabortion extremists targeted clinics and providers with bombings, assaults and intimidation campaigns.

Throughout the decade, Ms. documented the real-world consequences of these policies, particularly for poor women and women of color, while warning that the fight over abortion was fundamentally about women’s autonomy, equality and power.

Yet the 1980s were also a decade of feminist resilience. Women identified an emerging gender gap in voting patterns, rallied behind Geraldine Ferraro’s historic vice presidential campaign and reintroduced the Equal Rights Amendment year after year.

By the decade’s end, a majority of women—and two-thirds of younger women—identified as feminists.

The lesson of the 1980s is that backlash is often a sign of a movement’s success. Faced with powerful opposition, feminists did not retreat. They adapted, organized and laid the groundwork for the political breakthroughs that would follow in the decades ahead.

This essay is part of Feminist Lessons—part 2 of Ms.’ our three-part FEMINIST 250 project—which explores what each decade of modern feminist history can teach us about power, democracy, backlash and social change.

Feminist Lessons from the 1970s: How Feminists Transformed American Life

In 1972, when Ms. first hit newsstands, abortion was illegal in most of the country. Women could be denied credit cards, mortgages and loans without a husband’s signature. Newspapers still segregated job listings into “Help Wanted: Male” and “Help Wanted: Female.” There were no federal protections against pregnancy discrimination, no domestic violence shelters in most communities, and only a handful of rape crisis centers nationwide. Just 15 women served in Congress, and none sat on the Supreme Court, served as governors or held Cabinet positions.

For millions of women, inequality was not abstract—it was written into law, policy and everyday life.

Yet the 1970s also became one of the most transformative decades in modern American history. Through organizing, protest, journalism and political action, feminists forced issues long dismissed as private matters into the national spotlight. The inaugural issue of Ms. featured the groundbreaking “We Have Had Abortions” petition; a year later, the Supreme Court decided Roe v. Wade. The decade brought new access to higher-paying jobs, new financial independence through the Equal Credit Opportunity Act, workplace protections through the Pregnancy Discrimination Act, and growing public recognition of domestic violence and sexual harassment as systemic problems demanding public solutions.

This essay is part of Feminist Lessons—part 2 of Ms.’ our three-part FEMINIST 250 project—which explores what each decade of modern feminist history can teach us about power, democracy, backlash and social change.

The lesson of the 1970s is that social change can happen faster than it seems. Rights that once appeared politically impossible became mainstream demands. Conversations that had been confined to kitchens and consciousness-raising groups reshaped laws, workplaces and institutions.

Feminists did more than win a series of reforms—they transformed what Americans believed women could expect from their democracy.

Rest in Power: Marjane Satrapi, Whose Masterpiece ‘Persepolis’ Transformed the World’s Understanding of Iran

Marjane Satrapi, best known for her memoir and film Persepolis, has died, aged 56. The death of this much loved Iranian French artist, graphic novelist, filmmaker and activist has been met with widespread celebration of her life—and its dedication to resistance, freedom and humanity. French president Emmanuel Macron paid tribute to “a great artist who transformed an Iranian childhood into a universal fable.”

Satrapi illustrated the dislocations of revolution, migration, adolescence and return in such a way that her memoir travelled far beyond her home country.

Through its deceptively simple black-and-white illustrations, Persepolis became globally influential because it offered an intimate account of revolutionary Iran and exile that challenged dominant stereotypes.

For many readers, Satrapi is still the woman who explained Iran in the simplest, yet most powerful way.