More Than A Magazine, A Movement
LGBTQIA+ stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer/questioning, intersex, asexual/agender and the myriad of other sexual and gender identities. Ms. readers can find stories in this archive of people that claim those identities and face struggles because of discrimination and stigma—from topics like trans healthcare, to Pride parades, to (under)representation in media.
In the crowded landscape of gender justice, survivors of gender-based violence (GBV) are often neglected. While gender issues like abortion rights, pay equity and childcare frequently dominate discussions, survivor justice—particularly for those impacted by GBV—struggles for recognition.
The epidemic proportions of GBV demand a new approach: creating a survivor justice movement, an independent space that focuses on the healing, support and visibility of survivors.
More than 8,000 Catholic employers across the country will not be required to provide accommodations for workers needing abortion or fertility care following a ruling in North Dakota. An estimated 162,000 workers are on these health plans.
Abortion access, IVF treatment and gender-affirming care have all become major talking points in an election that may be defined by them. Vice President Kamala Harris, who supports all three, has been critical of Trump’s stance on abortion and IVF in particular.
Advocacy groups are mobilizing to safeguard access to the ballot as states implement laws that could deter trans people from voting in November.
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: Ohio Secretary of State Frank LaRose admits anti-abortion groups helped him write abortion rights ballot language; Kamala Harris and Donald Trump spar over abortion, Project 2025 and immigration at the presidential debate; Paralympics athletes and Emmy winners break records; Taylor Swift endorses Harris and Walz; Montana Supreme Court protects minors seeking abortion care; attacks on women journalists and LGBTQ people; new pay gap data is worse than last year; and more.
Olympic athlete and women’s boxing gold medalist Imane Khelif recently became a target for anti-trans activists and know-it-all couch potatoes. They decided Khelif was a man based on her perceived appearance and strength, rather than actual facts. So hyped are the anti-trans police that any woman who doesn’t seem to conform to gender norms is suspect and fair game, particularly if she’s public and successful. This is dangerous for all women, no matter their gender identity, and especially women of color.
If we accept transphobes’ arguments against all trans women in all sports, we inevitably accept a set of assumptions that harm women, trans and cis alike.
My Old Ass starts like a classic teen comedy but resolves with a more poignant message about growing up—no matter what age you are.
In many ways, this story seems a familiar one about discovering oneself and falling in love. Yet the film resists a traditionally simplistic message about sexuality, gender and love—and in doing so, My Old Ass is a refreshing new take on the genre.
Part one of a three-part series about the 900-plus-page right-wing “misogynistic manifesto”:
Project 2025 promotes traditional heterosexual marriage, stigmatizing single parenthood and same-sex spouses, and cutting programs to support single mothers and their children.
(This article originally appears in the Fall 2024 issue of Ms. Join the Ms. community today and you’ll get issues delivered straight to your mailbox!)
As a gay woman, abortion wasn’t something I thought about too often; but the lawmakers in my home state were villainizing and legislating abortion the same way they villainized and disenfranchised the LGBTQ+ community, so I figured it was my turn to be an ally.
As of this month, 22 states have banned some or all abortions. If you’re like me and your home state has closed your local abortion clinic—well they’re probably anti-LGBTQ too, and this is your call to get involved: to volunteer, donate and fight abortion stigma wherever you can. But if you’re a queer person with a nursing license looking for somewhere to work where you can be yourself and make a profound impact, check to see if your local abortion clinic is hiring.
In the 1990s, Promise Keepers were an evangelical group of Christian men who pledged to keep their promises to their wives and children in exchange for female submission and service. Relatively apolitical at the time, Promise Keepers even pledged to work toward “racial reconciliation.”
Filling football stadiums, evangelical men and boys felt safe to cry and hug, while reaffirming each other’s masculinity and entitlement to male dominance. By the end of the 1990s, Promise Keepers had faded from the headlines, but now thirty years later they are staging a revival.
Ms. sat down with Jackson Katz to get his take on the Promise Keepers revival. “Elements on the Trumpist right understand very well that right-wing, white evangelical men are an incredibly important constituency within the larger MAGA coalition. … The ‘crisis in masculinity’ has now become a crisis in democracy.”
For years, bills that put tampons and pads in school bathrooms were gaining traction across states. But the rise of anti-trans legislation has made a health issue political.