More Than A Magazine, A Movement
Over 70 million people, including 13 million women of reproductive age, are enrolled in Medicaid—America’s biggest single health insurance program. Now, congressional Republicans are ready to take an axe to it.
Proposed Republican cuts to Medicaid would strip millions of women of affordable access to birth control, prenatal care, STI treatment and other essential healthcare services.
I didn’t know I was a first-generation college graduate until after I shouldered my way across the stage with my degree. Six years, three schools, multiple majors and one abortion later, I’d done what only 27.4 percent of students like me manage to do: finish. I didn’t get there because the system worked. I got there in spite of it.
Fewer than one in three first-generation students graduate in four years. Without DEI programs and support, too many are left to navigate impossible odds alone—without the guidance, resources or safety nets they deserve.
The Trump administration wants to juice the birthrate. This isn’t surprising: Vice President JD Vance is an ardent pronatalist. So is shadow president Elon Musk, who seems to be working on populating Mars with his own progeny.
Abortion opponents, who make up a solid chunk of Trump’s base, want to see women have more babies whether we like it or not. Republicans and the Christian conservatives who elect them have generally been on the “be fruitful and multiply” side of things.
What’s different this time around, though, is that the Trump team is looking at carrots, not just sticks, in their baby-boom strategy. While the old way was to restrict abortion and make contraception harder to get, some of the proposals now include things like cash for kids, mommy medals, reserving scholarship program spots for young people who are married with children and (somewhat bizarrely) menstrual cycle education so women can figure out when they’re fertile and a national medal for motherhood for women with six or more children.
The administration is also considering policies that would effectively punish people for being single.
The sweeping federal job cuts taking place under the Trump administration are not just an attack on government effectiveness—they represent a direct threat to the economic stability of Black women, who have long utilized public sector employment as a pathway to financial security and upward mobility.
Now, as layoffs accelerate, Black women face a dual crisis: the loss of stable employment and the dismantling of one of the few sectors that has consistently countered private-sector inequities. These cuts risk unraveling decades of progress in building economic resilience for Black families and communities.
As Trump moves to dismantle the Department of Education, echoes of Jim Crow remind us what happens when states are left to decide who deserves an education—and who doesn’t.
Programs like Social Security, Medicaid, Medicare and the GI Bill exist because certain rights are too fundamental to be left to the whims of individual states or marketplaces. Education is one of them.
Weekend Reading for Women’s Representation is a compilation of stories about women’s representation.
This week: Hillary Clinton and Kamala Harris did not lose to Donald Trump because they were women; Maine Secretary of State Shenna Bellows announces run for governor; it’s looking increasingly likely that a woman may be elected in 2026 in Alaska; women will disproportionately feel the effect of Trump’s tariffs; and more.
A few years ago, I went searching for Pauli Murray. By that point, the poet, civil rights activist and pioneering legal scholar had been dead for 35 years. But in researching her life for the book I was working on, I’d learned about the profound impact that her work had had on the very fabric of America and particularly on the country’s legal system. I was convinced that because of everything Murray had done—the extent to which she had shaped movements and laws and lives—she would have to be remembered prominently and publicly. It was probably just my own fault, I reasoned, that I hadn’t previously heard of her.
Like millions of others around the world, I have spent the last few weeks oscillating between fear, anger and sadness as I’ve watched the new U.S. administration neglect the core values of democracy and wreak havoc with the systems that have propped up this country for centuries. With no way of changing the mind of a morally bankrupt megalomaniac, I’m concentrating on what I can do. Since I’ve learned of her remarkable life, I’ve loved telling people about Murray; about the unlikely against-all-odds battles she faced head-on—public wars she waged while simultaneously grappling with her own often-debilitating private troubles. If the federal government chooses to ignore those upon whose shoulders we all stand, those of us who recognize the indignity of this will simply have to make up for it by telling their stories loudly, telling their stories often and then repeating them over and over and over again. It is, after all, what Pauli Murray would do.
An excerpt from King of the North: Martin Luther King Jr.’s Life of Struggle Outside the South:
“Women have been the backbone of the whole civil rights movement,” Coretta Scott King stressed in a 1966 interview with New Lady magazine. The national media, like most politicians and pundits of the time, had trained the spotlight on the male leaders like her husband, missing the many women that had envisioned, led and organized the movements burgeoning around the country. They could not conceive of Coretta Scott King as Martin Luther King’s political partner. She later lamented how she was “made to sound like an attachment to a vacuum cleaner, the wife of Martin, then the widow of Martin, all of which I was proud to be. But I was never just a wife, nor a widow. I was always more than a label.”
Betrayal would be the simplest way to describe the Trump administration’s open disregard for the Department of Education and its Office for Civil Rights.
A betrayal of the department’s initial mission to advance education equity, a betrayal of the vital oversight the department was built to provide, and—perhaps worst of all—a betrayal of the countless students, families, and communities who continue to entrust the department to respect and protect students’ rights and well-being.
Our collective work remains anchored in the powerful vision and strategies we’ve been building for decades. Communities across the country are simultaneously defending vital protections while implementing transformative approaches to schooling that center belonging, equity and student well-being.
The Trump administration is trying to gut the Department of Education and divert funds to charter, private and religious schools that won’t be held accountable. This move threatens the progress we’ve made through civil rights efforts, especially in making schools more integrated and fair. The dismantling of key federal protections and funding will disproportionately hurt low-income students, students with disabilities, and communities already struggling.
We need to stand up, demand better resources for public schools, and refuse to let these harmful changes happen. We’ve fought for this before, and we can do it again.