For Women Leaving Prison, Education Can Be a Way Out

Standing at the bottom of the steps at Tulane University, waiting for her name to be called, Stephanie King took a deep breath. At 63, after nearly three decades in prison, she was about to receive her college diploma—something she had never imagined possible.

For King, who left high school as a pregnant teenager and earned her GED while incarcerated, the moment marked more than a personal milestone. “I just wanted to walk across that stage,” she told me. But beneath that was a deeper realization: Education could be the way out of the cycles that had defined her life.

That belief drives programs like Operation Restoration’s partnership with Tulane, which brings college and job training opportunities to women inside and beyond prison walls. Founded by formerly incarcerated advocate Syrita Steib, the organization helps women build stability through education, employment and support systems often denied to them. The path is rarely easy—students face limited resources inside prison and steep barriers upon release—but again and again, women point to the same truth: Education offers not just opportunity, but a chance to rebuild their futures on their own terms.

(This story is part of “Breaking the Cycle,” a three-part Ms. series on how women impacted by incarceration are building new futures—from education and job training, to debate teams and book clubs inside jails. Later this week: how women behind bars are finding their voices in public debate, and building community through literature.)

Silence Should Never Be the Price of Progress

Dolores Huerta’s revelation lays bare a painful truth too many women already know: Silence is often the price of progress.

For generations, women—especially women of color—have been expected to absorb harm to uphold institutions, movements and powerful men. “La lucha” is always supposed to come first. Huerta was forced to carry that burden alone for decades.

This dynamic is not unique to one movement or one moment. It is embedded in the very structures that shape our society. Women are told, implicitly and explicitly, that speaking out will jeopardize the greater good. That calling attention to harm, even violence, will derail progress. And so many stay quiet, carrying the weight alone, believing their silence is necessary for something bigger than themselves.

I’ve witnessed this reality firsthand, in my own family, in workplaces, and in the stories women share when they finally feel safe enough to speak.

We cannot continue to treat harm as collateral damage in the pursuit of progress. Movements rooted in social justice must also practice it internally. That starts with listening to survivors without judgment, creating environments where speaking out is met with support rather than skepticism, and recognizing that accountability strengthens movements—it does not weaken them.

A future where women are not asked to sacrifice their dignity for progress is not just possible—it is necessary.

Eric Swalwell and the Persistent Problem of Silent Complicity

The Eric Swalwell scandal is an altogether familiar and tired exercise: When allegations surface against a powerful man, the people around him scramble to distance themselves, downplay what they knew, or deny any knowledge at all. And yet, time and again, these cases are described as “open secrets.”

The real question is not just what he did, but what the people around him saw, heard and chose not to act on.

This is where the conversation needs to shift. For decades, sexual assault prevention educators have argued that we need to move beyond the perpetrator-victim binary and focus on the role of bystanders: What could colleagues have done? What kept them from speaking up?

The pressure to be “one of the guys,” to not rock the boat, to protect friendships or careers, remains enormously powerful. If we are serious about preventing abuse, institutions like Congress need to do more than react after the fact. They need to equip people, especially men, with the tools, the permission and the expectation to intervene before harm escalates.

Right-Wing ‘Tradwife’ Influencers Are Telling Young Women Lies About Birth Control

Cancer. Infertility. Unintended abortion.

These are just a few of the fears young patients bring to Dr. Bayo Curry-Winchell, a family physician in Reno, Nevada.

Curry-Winchell, medical director for the Saint Mary’s Urgent Care Group, said the trend away from hormonal birth control has become pervasive in recent years among her patients between about 14 and 32 years old—the same age group most likely to say they get their health information from social media.

When she talks with young patients, Curry-Winchell hears concerns about sinister long-term impacts of hormonal birth control—and the language often echoes conservative influencers who have no medical training.

Doctors say what is at stake is not whether every patient chooses the pill or an IUD, but whether they can make evidence-based decisions about preventing pregnancy in a country with some of the highest maternal mortality rates among wealthy nations.

We Must Hold the Line

There’s a moment in every struggle when retreat seems like the only rational option. When dictators grow bolder and democracies grow weaker; when the funding dries up and the threats are mounting.

For even the staunchest of human rights defenders, this is often the moment when the temptation to step back, to compromise, to “wait for better times” becomes almost irresistible. But it’s also the moment when it’s most crucial that we hold the line.

Holding the line doesn’t mean mindless stubbornness, or a refusal to adapt. Instead, it means refusing to compromise on core principles, regardless of the circumstances—a collective effort that requires each of us.

To human rights defenders everywhere: When funding disappears, innovate. When governments threaten you, document everything. When allies waiver, remind them what’s at stake.

Who Cares for Aging America? Still, Overwhelmingly, Women

Women continue to provide the majority—61 percent—of unpaid caregiving in this country. They are the appointment schedulers, medication managers, financial coordinators and emotional anchors. They are the ones who leave work early, rearrange schedules, and absorb the invisible labor that keeps older adults safe and supported.

Caregiving can be an act of profound love. It can strengthen bonds, preserve dignity and allow older adults to remain in the homes they cherish. But it can also take a toll.

Women who juggle caregiving alongside careers and parenting face higher risks of burnout, depression and chronic health conditions. The triple role of worker, mother and caregiver is not simply demanding—it is unsustainable without meaningful support.

We are on a demographic collision course in this country. Birth rates are falling, while the “Silver Tsunami” is rising. By 2030, older adults will outnumber children for the first time in U.S. history. This means fewer young people, more aging adults and a caregiving crisis that is already straining families and healthcare systems. We cannot build a sustainable care economy on invisible, unpaid labor. If we fail to modernize and invest in real care infrastructure, we will continue asking women to absorb a crisis that belongs to all of us.

Fewer Teen Births Is Good, Unless You’re the Patriarchy

How on-brand for the federal government to announce that U.S. birth rates are falling—just as The Testaments, the long-awaited sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale, dropped on Hulu.

In the fictional nation of Gilead, first envisioned by Margaret Atwood in her 1985 dystopian novel and expanded on screen for nearly a decade now, declining fertility catalyzed a Christian nationalist revolution in modern-day America, spawning a society rooted in patriarchal dominance and state-sanctioned violence. The Testaments, now three episodes in, is making a deliberate appeal to Gen Z and young viewers, featuring the spectacularly savvy Chase Infiniti and Lucy Halliday among Gilead’s tradwife-in-training rebels.

Doubly fascinating then, that it is the real-life status of teen birth rates in particular now driving the news. In a drop considered “extraordinary” by statisticians, the number of babies born to mothers between the ages of 15 and 19 fell by 7 percent in 2025.

Nevertheless, many on the right jumped directly into the fray to publicly lament that teens are having fewer babies.

A Public Syllabus on Feminist Resistance Across U.S. History: Books, Films, Archives and Tools to Rethink America’s Origins

This curated public multimedia syllabus spans the Revolutionary era and the long afterlife of feminist resistance—from the 19th century to the present. It includes works by series authors, books and articles, podcasts, films and television, primary-source collections, a Google Map of sites across the U.S. relevant to women’s histories, and a Spotify playlist tracing the legacy of protest music.

Many of these works center marginalized communities and are organized under the themes of Revolution, Resistance and Reclamation.

Trump’s DOJ Claims Biden Administration Was Wrong to Prosecute Clinic Violence

The Department of Justice (DOJ) has released an 882-page report Tuesday about the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances (FACE) Act. The Act does just what it sounds like it would do: Makes it possible for individuals who provide medical care or want to receive it to enter clinics that provide reproductive health care without being subjected to violence, threats, intimidation, or physical obstruction. The law allows federal prosecutors to criminally charge people who violate it and gives victims the right to bring civil lawsuits against aggressors.

The report concludes that the Biden administration “weaponized” the DOJ against people protesting outside abortion clinics, and that it criminalized their conservative beliefs. But it doesn’t hold up very well. It’s politics in the guise of prosecution, an effort to justify Trump’s pardons of 24 abortion opponents who harassed patients and attacked clinics and curry favor with parts of his base.

‘The Other Roe’ Film Shines a Light on Forgotten Abortion-Rights Case Doe v. Bolton

On June 24, 2026, we’ll reach the fourth anniversary of the Supreme Court’s infamous Dobbs decision that overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022. This year, which would have been Roe’s 53rd anniversary, also coincides with the United States’ 250th, reminding us that while the U.S. has been independent since 1776, American women are still far from having full rights and power over our own bodies.

Roe v. Wade, which passed in 1973 and stood for 49 years, gets most of the credit for establishing the national right to abortion. Many people think of Roe as the first big bookend ushering in the right to abortion in the U.S., with Dobbs as the other bookend taking that right away again.

However, Roe wasn’t the only groundbreaking case that paved the way for abortion rights in the U.S. 

Doe v. Bolton, Roe v. Wade’s lesser-known companion case, was argued before the Supreme Court in 1973 the same day as Roe and was equally crucial to abortion rights in the United States.