“What you’re angry about now—injustice—will still exist, even if you yourself are not experiencing it, or are tempted to stop thinking about how you experience it and how you contribute to it.”
We women are trying to succeed in a system that at a cellular level was not built for us. To transform that system away from promoting the elevation of white men to the exclusion of virtually everyone else would require a concerted, sustained and radical effort to disrupt long-standing mechanisms. It would require visionary leadership to strongly, with courage and an intolerance for excuses, implement a new way forward.
“I bake when I am mad,” Virginia said with a strange calm. This had clearly been an epic rage. Her anger—blended with flour, butter and sugar—expressed more than that saccharine cliché of “baking with love.” It had power.
And so I set out to write about the women I knew had been kicking butt since the beginning of time, grappling with the issues surrounding strength long before I ever learned to front squat. What I didn’t know was just how profound their contributions had been in ways that go beyond sports record books.
There is a lineage. Let their names be sung and recited over and over again. Let the change they strived for be named. These change-makers were my sisters, my friends, my chosen family and my support system. We were responsible for changing the nation’s sentiments about undocumented migrant young people. We amplified our narratives and forever shifted migration discourse even if we weren’t held up publicly. We did the work to claim our lives.
In 1848, the adolescent sisters Kate and Margaret Fox of Hydesville, New York, made quite a commotion when they told people of the strange rapping sounds they heard throughout their house. In the ensuing months, they began to communicate with “Mr. Splitfoot,” the devilish name they gave to the spirit that they said was the source of the knocking.
In her book “Fair Play,” Eve Rodsky lays out strategies—and rules—for couples interested in forging equitable partnerships. In an exclusive audio clip from her self-narrated audiobook, she walks us through Rule #1: “All Time is Created Equal.”
The archetypal slashers were often bad, sticky mothers who kept their children freakishly attached.
“The Women of the 116th Congress: Portraits of Power” depicts women lawmakers photographed in the style of historical portrait paintings commonly seen in the halls of power to highlight the stark difference between how we’ve historically viewed governance and how it has evolved.
In her new memoir, Knitting the Fog, chapina writer Claudia Hernández reflects on the impact of her mother’s difficult decision to flee domestic violence and poverty in Guatemala and immigrate illegally into the U.S.