More Than A Magazine, A Movement
Each month, we provide Ms. readers with a list of new books being published by writers from historically excluded groups.
The spectacular 50 Years of Ms.: The Best of the Pathfinding Magazine that Ignited a Revolution will go on sale Sept. 19 from Knopf; pre-order yours and get it sent to your door. It is seriously magnificent.
Oh, and check out these 30 other fantastic books releasing this month!
This year has found me clinging to youth with more gusto than ever. One of my kids mused, “Why can’t you be like other middle-aged people?” I shrugged, but I guess it’s because I think you’re either young or old. And I know which one I’d choose. Then I saw Barbie.
Greta Gerwig’s film has been labeled a feminist triumph (or failure) and a manifesto against (or tool of) corporate capitalism, but for me, it’s all about my midlife crisis (or “transition” to be kind). In the film, Barbie finds herself having irrepressible thoughts of death—and before she knows it, her perfect body and her dream world start showing signs of Real World flaws. Outside of Barbieland, much of our collective panic about dwindling youth stems from a culture that glorifies being young while rendering older people—particularly women—invisible.
Ms. Classroom wants to hear from educators and students being impacted by legislation attacking public education, higher education, gender and sexuality studies, activism and social justice in education, and diversity, equity and inclusion programs.
Submit pitches and/or completed draft op-eds and reflections (between 500-800 words) to Aviva Dove-Viebahn at adove-viebahn@msmagazine.com. Posts will be accepted on a rolling basis, with posting beginning in August 2023.
Today, disconnected from the resourcefulness we cultivated before institutionalized science, women have come to rely on surgery and Western pharmaceuticals to end pregnancies they don’t wish to continue.
As a writer who spent the last two years researching the herbal remedies of the granny midwives of Appalachia for my novel in progress, I began with the question of how “abortion” worked before modern medicine. It turns out this question is far too specific: Women didn’t always have that language for stopping pregnancy from advancing. The contemporary imagination that draws lines between fertility, conception, and personhood is relatively new. When doctors were unwilling to treat women, ancestral lore allowed them to care for themselves and each other.
When my next assignment came for a work trip to Florida, I felt deeply conflicted. Saying no and cutting off half the country seemed like an emotional overreaction. Still, I also felt terrible about contributing to a state economy where my tax dollars could be used to fund hateful legislation, control women’s bodies, or ban books. My darling stepkid is exploring gender fluidity; this smart, thoughtful teenager would be having a very different, very dark high school experience if we happened to live in the Sunshine State.
And then I went on Etsy.
Former state Senator Martha Hennessey details her abortion experience, inspired by the first person she ever told—Gloria Steinem.
” I fell into the small percentage of those who become pregnant while on the pill. … I did not have to go to Sweden. I did not have to tell my parents. I did not have to tell anyone my reasons, because it did not matter. … I cannot fully understand why I let anyone keep me from speaking openly about doing the right thing for myself and my family, including our seven granddaughters, but that changes today.”
Throughout my childhood, my mom drove me thousands of miles through North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama and Florida—giving up weeknights and long weekends to eat Panera Bread, sleep in hotels, and watch girls’ youth soccer.
It was in that passenger seat I knew so well where I sat nervously at 15, asking my mom about birth control. I felt comfortable enough to ask for contraceptives, confident that I could obtain them, and blissfully ignorant of the thought that an unwanted pregnancy could one day kill me. As I turned down the radio with sweaty palms, I was concerned with being late to practice and how my mom would react—not my right to exist in the world free of sex discrimination, or my rights to privacy and equal protection.
I am concerned with those things now.
Zoila is still fighting her asylum case, and at the same time finding the courage to advocate for others. Under Biden’s new rule, she likely would have been blocked from pursuing her case at all.
“I never wanted to leave Honduras. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. But two years ago I was forced to make the terrible decision to flee because home was no longer safe. After a long and difficult journey, my children and I were able to seek asylum in the United States. … Some things are a lot better here, though. Most importantly, we are finally free from my ex-partner’s violence. … As difficult as my journey has been, I know that it could have been even worse. President Biden recently proposed a new rule that would ban asylum for most people. … If that rule had existed when my family came to the border, I probably would have had no chance of getting asylum at all.”
I’m an Asian American woman who serves on the city council in Eastvale, Calif. I’ve served as mayor there. I’m also a survivor of intimate partner violence, and it’s time for me to talk about it.
Up to 55 percent of Asian women report experiencing intimate partner violence. In 236 cases involving homicides of AAPI (Asian and Pacific Islander) women, 58 percent with known causes were related to intimate partner violence, with 81 percent of perpetrators being the victim’s current intimate partner, and 10 percent a former intimate partner. There is power in sharing stories like mine to come to terms with our past, and to help other women dealing with situations like this in the present or in the future.
The first week of February is National Gun Violence Survivors Week. Let’s bring the gun industry out from the shadows, and shine a light on their reckless business practices. It’s time to hold them accountable for the nation of gun violence survivors that they have helped create over decades. A country that feels safer from gun violence is exactly the ’90s nostalgia America should be idolizing.
