The Only Place to Report Police Sexual Violence Is the System That Causes It

Nearly one in five New Yorkers have experienced sexual violence—and a new report finds that 12 percent have also faced sexualized behavior from NYPD officers, ranging from unwanted flirting and requests for phone numbers to catcalling. Across the U.S., police are accused of sexual violence with alarming regularity, yet just over 2 percent of those complaints result in officer discipline.

In New York City, the report finds that officers who perpetrate sexual violence rarely face consequences (less than 1 percent), underscoring that these incidents are not situations of isolated misconduct, but part of a broader pattern of harassment, assault and retaliation.

In highly policed communities, that pattern shapes how people move through the world. Nearly 75 percent of respondents said they go out of their way to avoid interacting with police—changing routes, avoiding certain blocks or staying inside at night.

“They want you to be [scared],” one 22-year-old Black man from Manhattan said. “If you’re not scared of them, then it’s like they’re not doing their job right.”

Others describe a constant state of vigilance: “When you hear a siren, you freeze. … If you see them following you in a car, you slow down and pray they drive past you.”

For survivors, the barriers to accountability are built into the system itself.

“There is this long history of officer impunity,” said Ileana Méndez-Peñate, noting the persistent lack of consequences.

As Priscilla Bustamante put it: “Where can I go? I can’t report police back to police.”

The report argues that meaningful change will require more than internal discipline—calling for independent oversight, reduced reliance on policing, and greater investment in community-based resources.

“This issue really shines a light on the fact that police are not really the answer,” Bustamante said. “They’re part of perpetrating the harm.”

‘Who Will Revere the Black Woman?’ Remembering Nancy, Cerina and So Many More

Even though I did not know Nancy Metayer, my heart is utterly broken by the loss of her life and the violence of her death. The night before her funeral, I joined a virtual vèyè in her honor—a space to keep watch, to remember her impact and to hold one another in communal care.

That same day, news broke about Dr. Cerina Fairfax, also killed in her home. I did not know her either, and still, I was gutted.

Nor did I know Pastor Tammy McCollum, Ashly Robinson, Qualeisha Barnes, Davonta Curtis or Barbara Deer—Black women killed in just a matter of weeks. And to think these are only the names we know.

In moments like this, I find myself returning to a question first posed by Abbey Lincoln decades ago: “Who will revere the Black woman?” The reality of this violence—and the way it is so often explained away or softened—makes that question feel as urgent as ever.

Black feminists have long named the patterns, the structures and the stakes. And still, we are left mourning, naming and insisting: We will not let their lives be forgotten. We will continue the work in their honor—because we revere them.

Ms. Global: Energy Crisis in Cuba, Feminist Activist Assassinated in Iraq, Gay Asylum-Seeker Deported and More

The U.S. ranks as the 19th most dangerous country for women, 11th in maternal mortality, 30th in closing the gender pay gap, 75th in women’s political representation, and painfully lacks paid family leave and equal access to healthcare. But Ms. has always understood: Feminist movements around the world hold answers to some of the U.S.’s most intractable problems. Ms. Global is taking note of feminists worldwide.

This month:
—Seoul holds the 41st Women’s Strike in South Korea for International Women’s Day.
—Hospital patients suffer during Cuba’s three major blackouts.
—The U.S. is at fault for the missile strike that hit the Shajareh Tayyebeh Girls’ School in Minab, Iran, on Feb. 28, killing 175 people.
—Yanar Mohammed, a leading Iraqi feminist and human rights defender, was killed in an armed attack in Baghdad.
—IOC restricts transgender participation in Olympics.
—Amid widespread displacement, poverty and institutional collapse during the ongoing war in Gaza, families are increasingly turning to child marriage for their daughters.

… and more.

Community Providers Play a Critical Role in Supporting Sexual and Domestic Violence Survivors Self-Managing Abortions

Decentralized community networks have mushroomed across the country. Existing outside of the formal medical system, community providers mail free abortion pills (mifepristone and misoprostol) to tens of thousands of pregnant women and people each year and support them to self-manage their abortions.

Staffed by volunteers, many of these community networks offer highly-trained abortion doulas to provide emotional and informational support to all those with whom the groups share abortion pills, and offer specially trained doulas for survivors of sexual and domestic violence.

“Pregnancy is one of the most dangerous times for someone experiencing domestic violence,” one doula told Ms., and “one of the top three reasons that people seek abortion is due to abuse in their relationship.”

The Trump Administration Wants the Supreme Court to Permanently Close the Border to Asylum Seekers

On Tuesday, March 24, the government will ask the Supreme Court to declare that asylum law does not apply at the border. The case—Noem v. Al Otro Lado—was brought by asylum seekers to challenge Trump’s turnback policy.

If the Supreme Court succumbs to Trump’s twisted logic, he will likely consider it carte blanche to keep the border closed permanently to asylum seekers and other people in need of protection. In other words, only people who already have permission to enter the United States could ask for protection.

As the Trump administration has shuttered virtually all other avenues to obtain protection in the United States, this effectively would violate non-refoulement and expose people seeking asylum at the southern border to danger and death.

The Noem v. Al Otro Lado case is both an effort to preserve the right to asylum and a step towards holding the administration accountable for ignoring the human cost of its border policies.

Keeping Score: Trump Attacks Iran, Pressures Senate Republicans to Pass ‘Show Your Papers’ Voter Registration Bill; States Expand Access to Childcare and Paid Leave

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:
—Dolores Huerta breaks her silence at 96: “I have never identified myself as a victim, but I now understand that I am a survivor.”
—Trump pressures Senate Republicans to pass the SAVE America Act, a “show your papers” policy that would require U.S. citizens to show a passport or birth certificate in order to register to vote.
—A performative personnel exchange at DHS: from Kristi Noem … to Markwayne Mullin?
—The U.S. and Israel launched strikes on Iran, killing at least 1,332 people.
—March 10 is Abortion Provider Appreciation Day.
—DHS Secretary Kristi Noem was fired, as ICE reports 32 deaths in detention facilities in 2025.
—Access to early prenatal care is declining in the U.S., especially in states with abortion bans.
—A record one-third of American workers not have access to government-mandated paid leave.
—The U.S. deported a gay woman to Morocco, where her sexuality is illegal and she faces violence from her family.
—Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton claimed gender-affirming mental healthcare for trans youth is “child abuse.”
—New Mexico and New York take steps towards free universal childcare.
—Jessie Buckley took home the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role for her role in Hamnet. The film was directed by Chloé Zhao, one of nine women to ever be nominated for the award of Best Director and the only woman nominated this year.

… and more.

The Radical Potential of Traditional Femininity 

In the 1700s and 1800s in the U.S., women were presumed to be subordinate to men: naturally helpless, emotional, vulnerable.

Reading through the thousands of petitions submitted by revolutionary-era women to the state, one might get the impression that all women accepted their subordinate status to men with humility and grace.

But what if they didn’t? What if their engagement with the discourse of feminine dependence was merely a shrewd tool, effectively deployed to cater to precisely what their readers—white, male elites—wanted to hear? What if the radical act of seeking a divorce in the 18th century contradicted the conservative language they employed? 

In most cases, we’ll never be able to deduce these women petitioners’ true feelings on their social and legal status. Many women petitioners in the revolutionary era left no trail for the historian to follow. 

What we can know is that the employment of this discourse of dependence, cunningly constructed in a sympathetic narrative neatly packaged for a patriarchal audience, was immensely effective. For the most part, women who engaged with these tropes of feminine subordination saw their petitions granted. Those that did not—including those who rebuked men—largely saw their pleas rejected or ignored. 

(This essay is part of the FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists series, marking the 250th anniversary of America by reclaiming the revolution through the women and gender-expansive people whose ideas, labor and resistance shaped U.S. democracy.)

From ‘Every Man’ to the ‘Epstein Class’: Misogyny in Male Peer Culture Cuts Across Class Lines

The rich men surrounding Jeffrey Epstein, and the working and middle-class men who were lured into Dominique Pelicot’s twisted fantasy, navigate the social world from very different sides of the class chasm.

But they share something in common, too: They’re all men who were socialized into a misogynous culture that dehumanizes women, turns them into sexual commodities and licenses men to mistreat them.

Misogynous exploitation is not rooted primarily in plutocratic privilege. The sense of unquestioned entitlement to women’s bodies that many observers have noted about “Epstein class” men is hardly confined to the wealthy.

The Epstein Files Reveal a System Built to Shield the Powerful

Jeffrey Epstein’s crimes were not carried out in isolation—they were enabled by a system that repeatedly narrowed investigations, shielded powerful figures and sidelined survivors.

Investigative journalist Julie K. Brown with the Miami Herald has extensively documented the mishandling of the Epstein case. Early reports and accusations were treated with skepticism; initial investigations were shut down; charges were narrowed; powerful actors were shielded; and even meaningful survivor notification of prosecutorial decisions was bypassed. Drawing on more than two decades working within the legal system on domestic violence and sexual assault cases, I see the Epstein files as a stark illustration of how institutions often fail those they are meant to protect.

The partial and selective release of the Epstein files only deepens these concerns. Survivors’ identifying information has been exposed while the names of powerful associates remain redacted. When victims are left vulnerable and power remains protected, accountability has not merely failed—it has been inverted.

This moment demands more than incremental disclosure: It requires full transparency, rigorous investigation and prosecution wherever the evidence leads, so that survivors’ courage is met with the justice they were promised.

Taliban’s New Penal Code Codifies Violence, Obedience and Gender Apartheid

On Jan. 7, Taliban leader Hibatullah Akhundzada signed off on the “Penal Principles of Taliban Courts,” a sweeping new penal code that fundamentally reshapes Afghanistan’s legal system: formalizing violence, criminalizing dissent, legalizing slavery and stripping women of legal personhood under the guise of religious law. It took effect immediately without public announcement or consultation. 

The regulation only became public weeks later after an Afghan human rights organization, Rawadari, published the text, raising alarm over provisions that legalize slavery, authorize private violence and institutionalize repression across nearly every aspect of life.

According to the regulation, absolute obedience to the Taliban’s supreme leader is mandatory. The penal code also codifies a rigid social hierarchy, dividing society into four classes and explicitly recognizing individuals as either “free” or “enslaved,” with harsher punishments imposed on those deemed lower status. Human rights advocates warn this structure institutionalizes discrimination and revives concepts long prohibited under international law.

Women are among the most severely targeted. Under multiple iniquitous provisions, husbands are authorized to punish their wives through discretionary violence, while domestic abuse is only recognized as a crime in limited circumstances and carries a maximum sentence of 15 days imprisonment for the perpetrator. 

In contrast, forcing animals to fight carries a longer prison sentence than severe violence against women—reinforcing a sinister legal hierarchy in which women’s lives are afforded less protection than animal welfare. 

These codes are not merely domestic policies. They will shape the psychological, social and moral landscape of an entire population and a new generation growing up under the Taliban’s brutal regime. Children are being raised under a system where violence is law, obedience is survival and women are denied humanity. The cost of inaction will not be measured only in today’s abuses, but in the long-term destabilization of Afghan society and the normalization of extremist governance beyond its borders.