feature image via shutterstock.com
Header by Rory Midhani
After the election, I followed over 100 new people on Twitter. Some things are more important than ratios, or clutter in your feed, or “social media as self-care,” or having the number “420” permanently appear over the word “following” on your Twitter page. The resistance is calling. These women are leading it. Follow them, get woke, and stay shook. It’s the only way we’re gonna win this thing.
As always, I’m presenting our panel of experts in ABC order because I don’t believe in ranking women nor do I believe in falling in line.
As if you couldn’t love Ali more, her sweet little face and polite set of manners happen to be no more than a clever disguise for her drive to overthrow our toxic government and put in its place a true Democracy. Imagine that!
https://twitter.com/AEOsworth/status/825787345723064323
Amy posts a list once a week of the shit that happened that is straight-up not normal as an act of resistance against a rising autocracy. She also has a lot of sass and shares valuable information all the live-long day.
He's coming for us next. Let me tell you something @realDonaldTrump: you're fucking with the wrong community!!! https://t.co/IzIzCRYvVd
— Amy Siskind 🏳️🌈 (@Amy_Siskind) January 30, 2017
You loved her already because she founded BITCH. Now I love her because her snarky tweets about politics give me life when my pursuit of liberty has me begging someone for death.
I'm not an asshole, I'm just alt-nice.
— andi zeisler (@andizeisler) November 22, 2016
Andrea Grimes is a podcaster, feminist writer, and tried-and-true red-state activist. I don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who fights for reproductive rights in the south, but if you haven’t know this: Don’t fucking mess.
https://twitter.com/andreagrimes/status/826232563383406592
I followed Ann Friedman when she was live-tweeting her trip to the Women’s March on a sparkling water-filled, wine-soaked plane ride stacked with feminist activists and pussyhats. I haven’t looked back since.
https://twitter.com/annfriedman/status/822528413890007040
Remember when you really liked Jezebel? Come home.
https://twitter.com/AnnaHolmes/status/826271204101218305
I know y’all are already following Brittani Nichols. If not, fix this immediately.
https://twitter.com/BisHilarious/status/824779257893171200
My trolls can’t decide if I’m a man or a woman. I can’t decide which photo of me in a pink fur coat goes best with my Twitter threads about the left’s cannibalization of itself and how much I hate Bernie Sanders.
sorry couldn't hear you over the sound of our republic hurtling to its death at the hands of literal nazis
— carmen f*cking rios 🚬👑🦄 (@carmenriosss) January 29, 2017
When she’s not keeping you woke on Autostraddle dot com, Carrie is on Twitter sharing resources and information about how the Trump administration impacts intersectionally marginalized queers and how we fight back. Also, she’s your type, be real.
https://twitter.com/wadetheory/status/825835820338655233
Liz Plank has been on the frontlines of political reporting in the digital age for years, and now that’s more critical to us than ever. Follow her for livestreams from protests, inside scoops about what’s happening at the White House, and really well-made videos about feminist politics.
https://twitter.com/feministabulous/status/826167355151618050
I adore Erin Schrode. She bounced back from a failed bid for Congress louder and more driven than ever, and she’s using her platform to spread the good word about everything from DAPL activism to how the Democrats should be fighting Trump.
Good night. Stay strong, stay safe, stay honest, stay the course.
— Erin Schrode (@ErinSchrode) January 31, 2017
Everybody needs a good self-righteous rant about the right’s diametric opposition to the word of God every once in a while, right?
https://twitter.com/theheatherhogan/status/825502372826865664
These hot takes are literally so hot they are scathing. You’re about to get told. You’ll be better for it.
https://twitter.com/AngryBlackLady/status/826168321485664256
I’ve been connected to Jamia for a long time, and I value her insight more every day. She has the activist background and lived experience to present you with a unique read on the day-to-day of what’s going on and also she writes great things and posts links to them, so.
https://twitter.com/jamiaw/status/826276933990285318
If Jamilah’s thoughtful analysis isn’t enough for you, there’s also a solid number of updates about her precious and perfect daughter involved to get you through the day.
Being American right now feels like I'm in an UberPool and the other passenger just robbed a bank. Like, I do not deserve any of this.
— Jamilahlemieux.bsky.social (@JamilahLemieux) January 31, 2017
I’m enjoying watching Janet Mock assume her throne as Queen of the Modern Feminist Movement. Join me.
Fuck the wall. We'll tear it down. #NoBanNoWall #nomuslimban #JFKTerminal4 #muslimban pic.twitter.com/v9gWk9p3nI
— Janet Mock (@janetmock) January 29, 2017
A lot of comedians stopped using Twitter for punchlines and started using it for protest after the election. Jen Kirkman is one of them, and I adore her for it.
Guys thanks for marching with us last week but honestly we would rather you stop correcting our jokes on Twitter. We'll handle the protests.
— JEN KIRKMAN (@JenKirkman) January 30, 2017
Y’all, Joy Reid spills more tea than anyone I know. And that’s saying something. Come for the hot takes, stay for the hot takes.
https://twitter.com/JoyAnnReid/status/826272700524027905
I know y’all want Kamala to run for President, but I’m not ready to talk about other women running for president yet. I am ready to talk about how many times a day I want to retweet Kamala Harris, though. Her Twitter is a neverending stream of inspiration, rallying cries, and strategies for political opposition you can believe in.
As Coretta Scott King taught us, the fight for civil rights—the struggle for justice and equality—must be fought & won with each generation. pic.twitter.com/kTD7YIHxYb
— Kamala Harris (@KamalaHarris) January 30, 2017
Lauren Duca has seen through Donald Trump from the start. Help her keep Teen Vogue woke and give her a follow.
I will burn this patriarchy to the ground or die trying.
— Lauren Duca (@laurenduca) January 28, 2017
Sarah Kendzior told me to follow Leah. She did not have to tell me twice.
https://twitter.com/leahmcelrath/status/826238789395824642
Melissa Gira Grant is fearless, bold, intelligent, and often right. I’m deeply proud to have worked with her in the past and am unable to ever stop telling people how amazing she is. I hope I’m MGG when I grow up.
https://twitter.com/melissagira/status/826191510152507392
Melissa McEwan is an eloquent social justice blogger with smart, incisive perspectives on what’s happening to our country and what went wrong in the election. I live and die by her words. Amen.
https://twitter.com/Shakestweetz/status/797216051188604928
If you’re not following Mikki Kendall yet I don’t know who you are.
Clutch a clue instead of pearls & get to work. Put that privilege on the front lines instead of expecting someone else to be a martyr.
— Mikki Kendall (@Karnythia) January 31, 2017
Watching Parker Molloy literally @ members of the GOP leadership and take them to town is my self-care.
https://twitter.com/ParkerMolloy/status/825625464202985472
Propane Jane is a blogger and prolific Twitter user who serves up analysis and righteous fire on the regular. Her threads cover everything from southern strategies to Trump’s mental health to the death of the GOP to where we go next, and she’s one of the only people who can retweet herself and make me feel #blessed.
We don't keep voting for y'all's asses so you'll go to DC and rubber stamp fascism, @SenateDems. Get your shit together, or lose your jobs.
— Propane Jane™ 🔥💣 (@docrocktex26) January 30, 2017
Wonkette is funny. The death of the republic? Not so much. That’s why Rebecca’s been keeping it real on Twitter. Come thru.
true confession: I thought our side was going a little overboard with the "fascist apocalypse" thing. LOL I am stupid. https://t.co/JFsZqwtaLd
— Rebecca Schoenkopf, Wonkette. (@commiegirl1) January 31, 2017
If you’re not reading her books, you’re not living your best life. If you’re not following her on Twitter, you’re just making a huge mistake.
Pretty sure the "bad" has already rushed into our country, "dude."
— Rebecca Traister (@rtraister) January 30, 2017
I FUCKING LOVE YOU SADY DOYLE. BLESS.
https://twitter.com/sadydoyle/status/797418648189202432
Sarah Kendzior will keep you shook, but she’ll also keep you fighting. She’s spent a lifetime studying authoritarian rule in Russia and spent the election covering Donald Trump’s horrific rise to the White House. She hails from the midwest, too, and offers up some good perspectives on what she calls “flyover country” and how folks in red states or former purple states can resist.
The thing that's worst is that these are, comparatively, the good times.
You won't recognize this country by end of the year. Or live to.
— Sarah Kendzior (@sarahkendzior) January 25, 2017
When she isn’t running a Twitter account based around the alternative reality in which Hillary Clinton is President, she is throwing out a steady stream of bold ideas for fighting Trump, saving the left from itself, and also continuing to worship Hillary Clinton. Let us never stop worshiping Hillary Clinton.
https://twitter.com/SarahLerner/status/819441364584669184
ThinkProgress is on the frontlines of the resistance against Trump, and they know their shit. That’s in part because they’re blessed to have Tara on their team. Follow her for a steady stream of well-reported pieces about what the fuck is happening here.
Feminism, social justice, progress, and political action aren't dead — Trump can't kill those things https://t.co/vcXwEPQzny pic.twitter.com/hJomfURsaF
— Tara Culp-Ressler (@Tara_CR) January 22, 2017
Fresh off a job at the Hillary Clinton campaign, Zerlina Maxwell’s Twitter remains a place of progressive thought leadership and smart analysis.
https://twitter.com/ZerlinaMaxwell/status/826120151410077697
Header by Rory Midhani
Donald Trump is going to become the honest-to-god President of the United States on Friday. In exchange, the universe had Keely give me my last Christmas gift and it just so happened to be a mason jar of homemade pineapple vodka and a crop top that says “I hate this.”
Many of us have spent the months since the election resisting Donald Trump and everything he stands for. Also, weeping. But the real resistance begins Friday, when the White House, Senate, and House will officially all be dominated by science-denying, bigoted, cowardly little men who call themselves “Republicans.”
Don’t give Trump a moment to get comfortable. Let’s start fucking shit up as soon as he starts being sworn in. Here’s 10 ways to resist on Inauguration Day.
Ringo Chiu / AFP/Getty Images
For the love of Goddess, please do not watch the Inauguration. Do not watch a live stream. Do not turn on the television. Do not watch it in a house. Do not watch it with a mouse. Watch it unfold through tweets and read the transcripts as they’re posted. Read articles about it in news outlets you trust. Do not give Donald Trump the respect of your eyes and ears in real time. Do not give him good ratings. Treat yoself and get out of the damn house instead. (Unless you live in DC. Stay inside and play Candy Crush or whatever.) If you really wanna know what’s happening, Riese & Erin will be liveblogging it for you on Autostraddle, which is all you need.
Go to a Women’s March on Saturday if you can. Do the damn thing.
Give to a feminist non-profit. Donate to your local abortion clinic. Rent a Meryl Streep movie at the woman-owned video store. I really don’t care what you do with your money, but I hope on Inauguration Day you buy some cute feminist shirts from an indie merchant and give all of your money to an activist organization, a progressive think-tank, a service organization, and/or a political organization that stands for you in Donald Trump’s name so as to make him a better person.
You won’t even have time to think about Donald Trump’s inauguration when you’re ladling soup into a bowl, cleaning up trash on the side of the road, picking up phones for a hot line, and turning yourself into a human shield outside of an abortion clinic.
Let your lawmakers know that you plan to watch them and hold them accountable. Use the power of your vote to pressure them through constituent activism by calling their offices in opposition to bills that would leave millions without health insurance and nominees for the Trump cabinet who would disgrace their own offices and this nation’s history. Let them know they can expect you to vote in the next election to show them you weren’t fucking around.
Spend the day curled up with a good book on autocracy, authoritarianism, and strategic resistance. (Here are some of my recommendations.) Or, spend the day on Twitter reading threads about his inner circle and his horrific vision for this country to prep for your next big move. Or, spend the day reading about his conflicts of interest and the potential that he is a legitimately illegitimate president so that you become prepared to tell everyone you know that information as quickly and concisely as possible every day for the next four years.
I’ve subscribed to Teen Vogue, Vanity Fair, and the Washington Post in the last three months. I’ve never been more proud to work at Ms. Autostraddle will never let you down. There’s honestly never been a better time for you to support feminist, progressive, and/or — preferably and! —independent media. We need them. We need people to tell the truth. We need people to make us laugh. We need someone to remember us.
Have a difficult conversation on Friday about Donald Trump with a sad and broken person who voted for Trump. Destroy them.
Donald Trump’s reputation is yours for shredding into a million pieces and lighting on fire outside. Post something about the allegations that he’s a serial rapist. Post something about his business failings. Post something about his work to steadily destroy the republic. Post something about his inability to grasp the job. Post something that makes you forget that this man once sold a tee shirt with Hillary Clinton’s face on it that said simply “Sad!” and now he’s the fucking president.
Take a long shower. Masturbate. Make out. Get something delicious to eat. Go shopping. Wear whatever the fuck you want. Flip someone off when they stop short before the crosswalk. I give you permission to spend the entirety of Friday being exactly who you are and loving every little inch of what that means. Plus, there will be time to mourn the death of our nation later, I think. Take the day off.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
2017 is the year it begins. In under two weeks, Donald Trump’s inauguration will take place. In under two weeks, Donald Trump will be President of the United States. This is the year the resistance takes shape. And for feminists looking for a roadmap, The Crunk Feminist Collection is the newly-printed guidebook that sets the path.
What revolutionaries need right now is a guiding light. In the midst of a flurry of fights, we need to come together and remember our singular purposes, our long-term goals, our vision and our practice. The Crunk Feminist Collection provides us with one, sourced from the lens of Black Feminism — which puts bottom-up movement-building into practice. I’ve said before that intersectionality is more than a keyword; that it’s a way to see the world and it’s the only way to build inclusive, accountable movements. The Collection brings that fact to life with essays that meld the personal and the political, address modern questions of race and gender and difference, and defiantly demand a culture that lifts women of color up instead of attempting to break them down. By centering a Black Feminist lens, The Collection provides readers with a more nuanced perspective on everything from gender to race to sexuality to class to movement-building, packaged neatly in easy-to-read pieces that take on weighty and thorny ideas willingly and enthusiastically in pursuit of a more just world.
What emerges in the anthology of posts from the Crunk Feminist Collective blog’s first five years are pivotal pieces on reconciling pragmatism and radicalism, navigating “the system” to effect change, survival politics and the vision of a new cultural discourse, building community, and expanding the praxis of academia to encompass those of us living at the intersections. Smart, witty, and engaging, the book breaks down complex ideas that activists confront every day in trying to put their ideology into practice with empathy, authority, and plenty of rallying cries.
The Crunk Feminist Collective is more than an online space. It is, in practice, a tiny revolution. Run with a “collectivist” spirit, members of CFC are encouraged to talk to one another and to their larger community, even in moments of disagreement, and find pathways forward even in divergence. As we move into a new political landscape in which we find that vulnerability spans fragmented communities, we need unity. The next steps the left takes — and the direction in which feminism must move — is one in which unity is the ideal and solidarity is accountability. It is one in which those who live at the intersections must take the reigns and steer the course. CFC lives this revolution — through collectivism and conversation, through the bridge of our world and our vision for it, through the place where personal and political meet.
By setting up a home at the colliding point, CFC created a space unlike any other. Now, they’ve also published a feminist anthology unlike any other.
We need now, more than ever, a spirit for the resistance — and the revolution. Whether we’re pushing back or moving forward, we’ve arrived at a crossroads in which it is abundantly evident that we cannot leave anyone behind. Let’s vow that the next steps will come from the intersections. Let’s vow that the world we’re dreaming of will come when we realize we truly are stronger together — and that we refuse to abandon each other.
Let’s get ready to fight. And let’s start here.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
It’s that time again! Time for me to remind you of the baddest bitches who made waves this year. Here’s 16 women or groups of women who gave me and you and everyone we know some life in this, the darkest of years.
Author’s Note: 16 is not a lot of people. PLEASE DON’T GET MAD AT ME! It’s important to note that I try not to include people from the years before, although I’m (spoiler alert) including Hillary Clinton because fuck if I won’t. Also, if I egregiously overlooked your fave, leave a comment and let me know!
John Leyba/The Denver Post
America Ferrera was one of many young women who came out in full force for Hillary Clinton during this campaign, and she brought with her the perspective of a feminist Latina. Ferrera was also honored at the Feminist Majority Foundation’s Global Women’s Rights Awards this year (I was there! I met Retta!) for her activism in the Latinx community this year. Honestly, I was upset when they made Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants because nobody had ever stolen my name in a contemporary film before. But if I have to share it with anyone, I’m damn proud it’s her.
Can you believe Suicide Kale came out this year? THIS YEAR! And it’s been screening around the world because that’s how Brittani does things: right, and brilliantly, and in a way which overshadows everything you’ve ever done. Also, Brittani released an EP this year and it was dope. Also, Brittani really is hilarious. Also, Brittani Nichols makes every single year of my life and probably yours better, let’s be real.
via Flickr user torbakhopper
Chelsea Manning hasn’t stopped fighting, even while serving time for leaking classified documents to WikiLeaks. This year, Manning fought against her mistreatment by military officials by going on a hunger strike. She appeared on a podcast with Amnesty International and talked about her life as a trans woman and the solitary confinement she was being unfairly subjected to as a military prisoner. In response to a year in which she attempted suicide, activists rallied around her and petitioned the White House to commute her sentence. As Trump gets closer to snagging the White House keys, activists are once again urging President Obama to end her sentence — as both a statement on her human rights and a precedent for how America treats its patriotic whistleblowers moving forward. Manning has elevated the discourse, through pain and personal tumult. For that alone, she is a hero.
(Photo by Richard Shotwell/Invision/AP)
Constance Wu of Fresh Off the Boat spent the year confronting racism and sexism in the industry. I know she doesn’t wanna be an “it” girl, but she’s definitely a Rebel Girl of the Year and she can’t do anything about it. (Unless she reaches out and asks me to remove her from this list. I would oblige, I’m kind.)
(Photo by Aram Boghosian/The Boston Globe via Getty Images)
Elizabeth Warren rose to prominence during the 2016 Presidential Election as a pillar of progressive leadership in the Democratic Party, and when Hillary Clinton became the first-ever woman nominee from a major party she turned out in full force without pause or hesitation and became a Nasty Woman for the herstory books. Now, in the wake of the election, she is someone we can rely on to fight as hard and scream as loud as possible about Trump’s fuckery.
Chris Keane / Reuters
She wore a pantsuit to the American Music Awards. She wore a suffragette outfit on election day. She cried in her car on election night. She rallied and hit the trail for Hillary Clinton. She spoke at the LA vigil for Orlando. She led an anti-Trump protest in New York. She spent time over Thanksgiving with queer homeless youth. She did the work. Look, I held a grudge against Lady Gaga for a long time. Now I’m ready to forgive her. In a year when we needed feminism and we needed it more than ever, she brought it back in full force.
The New York Times
When the Ghostbusters reboot came out, men quite literally lost their damn minds. Having women recast as the ghost-fighting protagonist goofs basically ate up the entire media cycle during the earlier months of the year. But for Leslie Jones, the political got really personal when she started being trolled by racist, sexist pieces of human garbage on Twitter. In response, she spoke up and out. And then she dipped. In the process, she got one of the far right’s biggest human shitbags kicked off of the social network and sparked another round of discussion about how we can keep marginalized folks safe from hate speech online.Thankfully, in advance of this shitstorm, she live-tweeted the Rio Olympics and gave me life.
Ellen DeGeneres, perfect human and America’s lesbian sweetheart, was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom this year and we all wept. You wept, right. Weep with me right now, please.
Hillary Clinton this year became the first woman to be a major party nominee for president, the first woman to win a state in a general election, the first woman to win an electoral vote, and the first woman to win the popular vote in a presidential election. The fact that she is not the first woman president will never not shake me to my core. I don’t care if you like her. I love her. She meant something to me and to millions of women. She ran an unabashedly feminist campaign as an openly female candidate. She stood tall even when she shared space with the toxic abusive dirtbag who went on to steal her dream. I’m never going to get over this. I miss her presence in the news and on Twitter and in office banter every single day. I will fight to build the country she knew was possible until my body is lowered into the ground inside of a life-size animal fries container by my enemies. And I will never fucking stop hanging pictures of her in my office.
Hillary Clinton was the Rebel Girl of 2016. And as much as I want to write off this year as fucking painful bullshit, as dark as it has been since election night, as much as I wish I could stop crying on the way home from work, I don’t actually want to forget one fucking second of it. I don’t want to forget the moments before election night when it felt possible, imminent even, that a woman would finally be president. But not even “a woman.” Her. Hillary Fucking Rodham Fucking Clinton. I’m pouring out a drink for her as you read this, probably. Or maybe I’m watching her speeches on YouTube and weeping. Or maybe I’m fighting like hell to remember her, to remember the hope and the certainty that progress lay ahead.
If I could have written a version of this post naming only Hillary Clinton 16 times, I would. Instead, I wrote some end-of-year lists and a few eulogies for her campaign and cried in my car! I think both plans were strong.
When Jen Richards launched Her Story, a web series about trans women in Los Angeles, she changed the media landscape. The show, which this year became the first indie web series nominated for an Emmy, became evidence of the powerful impact media can have when it tells trans stories right — as well as a rallying call for an end to hiring cis men to play trans women. In addition to making media history with the series, Richards has spent the year rabble-rousing, on- and off-line, for trans rights and representation. She’s a badass, in short. And in the years to come, I am confident we’ll only hear more and more about the good work she’s doing and the real community impact it has.
CNN
If you didn’t watch the presidential debate moderated by Martha Raddatz and come away from it unsure whether you wanted to date Martha, Hillary, your partner, or all of them simultaneously in a polyamorous arrangement that makes everyone happy and fulfilled, I don’t know you anymore.
After waging a 20-year battle for their freedom and innocence, four Latina lesbians from San Antonio wrongfully accused of sexual assault in 1997 were exonerated this year by the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals. By fighting for justice, Elizabeth Ramirez, Cassandra Rivera, Kristie Mayhugh, and Anna Vasquez shined a light on institutional racism and homophobia and affirmed their right to exist.
Alex Wong/Getty Images
Sarah McBride this year became the first trans person ever to speak at a major party convention. It was incredible. She’s amazing. Also, we bumped into each other at the DNC for the first time in years and it was cute.
via the one and only Molly Adams
Native American women built the movement shaking the nation to its core at Standing Rock, which shouldn’t surprise anyone since women have been at the helm of pretty much every important fight in this nation’s history and the world’s history but nobody ever remembers them. Let’s remember them and follow their lead in organizing peacefully as we move forward.
The 2016 Olympics in Rio featured an abundance of badass female athletes, and they showed the fuck up. Women set records in Rio left and right, and they excelled across events. Katie Ledecky beat her own record. Simone Biles took home a gold and become the most decorated American gymnast and the record-holder for the most gold medals won by an American in women’s gymnastics at any Olympic games, ever. Allyson Felix won two gold medals, becoming the woman with the most golds in track of any nation. Simone Manuel was the first African-American to win gold in the 100-meter freestyle.
Overall, the U.S. teams came back from Rio with 121 medals — and women won 61 of them. (Five of them, it should be noted, were in mixed events, so women technically won more medals than men. That’s feminism!) The Rio Olympics, though, were unique in their feminism not just because of the women who won, but because of the women who competed and who were part of the ceremonies. A trans woman performed at the opening. Ibtihaj Muhammad became the first athlete to compete at the games in a hijab. Feminists carried the Olympic torch. It was a time, y’all. A simpler time. Were we ever so young, hot, and impressive? Real question. I’ve blacked out all of my joy.
Catherine Cortez Masto via Bill Clark/Getty Images
It’s looking like we’re not gonna get to watch Hillary Clinton make her acceptance speech. Or an inaugural address. Or a State of the Union. It breaks my heart into pieces (see above), and it will never be okay, but we did make a lot of history this year regardless. On what I’ll likely remember as the darkest election night in history and perhaps the darkest moment in my life, there was light. There was hope.
On November 8, six women made history. Kamala Harris became the first Indian-American to be elected to the Senate. Catherine Cortez Masto will join her there as the first Latina in the body. Tammy Duckworth will soon be the first woman with a disability to serve in the House. Kate Brown became the first elected LGBTQ Governor. Women like Pramila Jayapal and Ilhan Omar made history at the state level, and others like Misty Snow and Misty Plowright may not have been victorious but made history just by being in the running.
Since the election, record numbers of women have expressed interest in running for office. They say you have to be asked, what, three times? So here you go: Run for office. Run for office. Run for office. Be the first. Be the second. Be the third. Be the fucking new world order. Give me someone to celebrate in 2017 when I’m covering the Trump impeachment trials.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Illustration by Sophie Argetsinger
If there is anyone in your life currently in need of a truly empowering and also on-brand gift which which to utilize to further the progress of our nation or look woke AF, it’s the feminist you know and love. It’s been a dark year, and there may be many more to come. Stave off the end of the world, or I guess just avoid letting them think about it more, with any one of these incredibly badass things I wish I could send to Hillary Clinton’s PO Box to let her know I’m still thinking of her.
Feminist embroidery. Woman power posters. Candles fit for a bad bitch. This year, give them the gift that never stops giving: Something that makes the cis white men who enter their homes feel undoubtedly uncomfortable and unwelcome.
Not Your Muse Embroidery Which I Would Never Want But Someone More Bold Than Me Might / Hillary Clinton Quote Poster / Middle Finger Candle / Feminist AF Doormat / Uterus Collage / Virginia Woolf Poster / Patriarchy-Smashing Embroidery
I always make a lot of recommendations for feminist gear in this gift guide, but it’s never been a better time to wear your activism on your sleeve. Help a feminist you love avoid a conversation with a leftist brogressive who hates “identity politics,” the silent Trump supporter hanging around the water cooler on casual Friday, and the person down the street who didn’t care enough to vote and must now suffer endlessly for it by enabling them to put their politics where anyone can read ’em and weep accordingly.
Feminist Fist Enamel Pin / Wild Feminist Tee / Wild Feminist Bomber AKA The Thing Everyone Who Works Here Wants / Boy Bye Tee / Feminist Fist Sweatshirt / Born to Be Wild Pouch / The Future is Female Sweatshirt
There’s a lot of work to do, y’all. The folks you know who actually give a shit are about to be busy running out into the streets, crafting strategies for world domination in our coven meetings, and running the bad guys into the ground from our home offices. Why not build them a workplace that reminds them day in and day out that they’re kicking ass, taking names, and changing the world? (Or just give them an outlet to do what they like infused with feminist goodness.)
Feminist Badass Laptop Case / WWBD Desktop Plaquard / Crafting with Feminism Book / I am enough Coloring Book / Boss Babes Coloring Books / Feminist To-Do List / Boss Notes / Feminist Notebook Complete With Inspirational Musings Pre-Printed Inside / A Pencil Pack to Last the Whole Revolution
Header by Rory Midhani
One of the first things I did in Donald Trump’s America was go home for a funeral. I knew when I went back I would grab my copy of Living History, if only to weep openly while I read it on the flight home. (I did.) But while I was digging around, I stumbled onto a book I bought during the Bush years, an era I’ve been thinking back on a lot in the wake of the election: Stop the Next War Now. I packed it in my bag without thinking and warned my mother not to accept any of what was about to happen as normal. “Get ready to fight,” I kept telling her. “This is it.”
I’ve been having a lot of those moments, activist flashbacks, sort of re-experiencing a lot of the things I felt when I first dove into the feminist movement head-first. I remembered seeing Cleve Jones, founder of the AIDS Quilt, speak at my school, and how his story taught me not only that activism could come from the pain of loss and be a foundation for healing but also that it was possible to continue letting yourself envision a better world while drowning in the depths of a dangerous and unwelcoming one. I remembered Angela Davis looking me in the eye when she spoke years later and telling me the work I was doing was part of her revolution. I remembered talking to Eileen Myles in the cafe after her book signing about how blind everyone was to sexism and how unfair it was trying to shout that it exists. I remembered crying at Hillary Clinton’s speech at the Democratic National Convention, how afterward what I wanted suddenly more than I had ever wanted it before was to watch a world unfurl that felt like we were one step closer to the promised land.
I remembered buying that book, how I didn’t know anything about it before I did, how I just saw it on display and grabbed it and thought yes if I have the power to do this I fucking will. I remembered reading Yes Means Yes! years later and becoming an anti-violence activist, immersing myself in work that felt like it had a tangible impact — work that was helping to build a world where rape and sexual assault weren’t seen as normal or weren’t so common or didn’t have to destroy us.
This election shook me to my core. That’s undeniable. I am still grieving and I don’t know that I ever won’t be. I am so fucking angry and I don’t know that I ever won’t be. But I refuse to be scared, or cowed, or defeated. I refuse to forget that Hillary Clinton won, that love should have trumped hate, that millions of Americans didn’t ask for this. I refuse to forget that none of the white nationalists “taking back” this country are what America should look like. I refuse to forget that Donald Trump lacks a public mandate, and thusly so does his entire dirtbag agenda and every single person on his Transition Team from Hell.
I refuse to stop fighting. Not now. The only answer moving forward is to lace up our boots and keep marching. The only way out is through, and the only way through is fighting like hell. The revolution is upon us. It needs you now more than ever.
There is darkness ahead. (Steve Bannon said so himself, after all.) Let these books light your path.
Some inspiration for you to use to light your torch. When you doubt you have it within yourself to make an impact, know that people throughout time have chosen not to listen to the voice of impossibility.
Recommended Supplemental Reading List: Memoirs by women who led the world.
+ Anything We Love Can Be Saved: A Writer’s Activism
+ Autobiography of Mother Jones
+ A Woman’s Crusade: Alice Paul and the Battle for the Ballot
+ Mighty Be Our Powers: How Sisterhood, Prayer, and Sex Changed a Nation at War
Reading about the successful and revolutionary work of other activists does more than give us hope: It gives us a blueprint. Activism, at its core, is about effecting change — and the spirit of any fight for progress is malleable and can be reshaped to help us fight our own. Learn from the people who did it first. Learn from the people who beat the odds. Learn from the people who chose courage, chose defiance, chose devotion to the greater good even in the darkest and most trying of circumstances.
Recommended Supplemental Reading List: Activism workbooks to help you build the next book-worthy movement.
+ Pink Sari Revolution: A Tale of Women and Power in India
+ We Will Not Be Silent: The White Rose Student Resistance Movement That Defied Adolf Hitler
+ The Revolution Has Come: Black Power, Gender, and the Black Panther Party in Oakland
+ Common Women, Uncommon Practices: The Queer Feminism of Greenham
+ Radicals on the Road: Internationalism, Orientalism, and Feminism during the Vietnam Era
In case you wanna get deep but also think about like, the most strategically sound ways to disrupt society. The usual.
+ Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil
+ Red State Rebels: Tales of Grassroots Resistance in the Heartland
+ Direct Action: Protest and the Reinvention of American Radicalism
+ Hillbilly Nationalists, Urban Race Rebels, and Black Power: Community Organizing in Radical Times
+ What Every Radical Should Know About State Repression: A Guide for Activists
+ Freedom Is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement
+ The Next American Revolution: Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century
+ The Revolution Will Not Be Funded: Beyond the Non-Profit Industrial Complex
+ Rules for Radicals: A Practical Primer for Realistic Radicals
feature image via Wikimedia
Header by Rory Midhani
Hillary Clinton is not the President of the United States.
I did not expect to write that down right there, I swear. This post was originally intended as a reflection on what it meant to elect a woman president, what some women from different communities and backgrounds saw in her or saw of themselves in her, what her policies could allow us to envision, who we were before and after she showed us a woman could really do this.
Hillary Clinton is not the President of the United States.
This post is now a eulogy. For something. I don’t know, maybe the dream I had for — what was it — 10 years now. Maybe my mother and my grandmother and your daughter and your sister. Maybe the girls who were gonna grow up seeing themselves there in the White House, ordinary as anything, completely free to dream, to swing their legs and think I could be President, I could run the country, I could stand on that stage and say yes. Maybe, honestly, a eulogy for the hope. That feeling of near certainty, we got this, do you think we’re gonna be okay, I do, I think we got this. On Monday night I felt like I might wake up to anything, a new day, something different, I really did, I feel naive, I’m sad, and I’m scared and I’m mad and I’m sad and I’m scared and I’m mad. That feeling that maybe we would finally move the goalposts, have a president who fought some of our battles, finally get the next move on the chessboard and swing hard on the way down.
Hillary Clinton is not President of the United States.
But this is what she meant.
But this is what she meant.
We knew it.
We felt it.
Hillary Clinton is not President of the United States.
But for a minute, we thought she just might be.
So, yeah, I would totes be Hillary’s BFF. Maybe that’s because I have come to see with my own eyes, through various humanitarian efforts, that women are underrepresented, disadvantaged and exploited globally — from the halls of power to the back alleys of red light districts to the trafficking rings in which women are murdered, raped and traded as if they were objects rather than human beings. Before “Girl Power” was a hashtag, Hillary fought the unpopular fight and defended women here at home and around the world. She dared to demand that women’s rights be seen as human rights. And she traveled the world as Secretary of State insisting that world leaders include women in their countries’ economic and security plans. That thrills and inspires the hell out of me.
I can vote for Hillary and express desire to see a woman lead, without throwing on my cape for the empire. But I also won’t throw on my cape for any brand of progressivism that skips over sexism in its wake. We are no more postfeminist than we are postracial. Racism and capitalism are not more pressing to me than the problem of patriarchy. As a black woman who grew up working-class, I don’t get to leave any issue on the table. They are all urgent as fuck…
It has taken nearly 170 years for the liberal feminist project to have a woman as major party presidential candidate. This is telling. So for those of us who are radical feminists, those of us who want to see the total transformation of oppressive social structures, this is a reminder that if it has taken this long for the liberal feminist project to reach such a milestone, our radical feminist dreams will take longer. But it is also a reminder that if feminist movements can’t even elect a woman president, then we haven’t moved the needle nearly enough on patriarchy
Those feminists who act like this is possible are not being honest about what the structural transformation of systems looks like.
To me, it looks, in part, like electing a woman president.
I never want Hillary Clinton to smile graciously in the face of defeat again. I want her to rise. I want her to overcome. I want her to win, and I want her to rub it in our faces even though she never will. I want her to talk to God. I want her to cut the ribbon when they put her pantsuit up in that museum. I want her to prove my mother wrong. I want that fire in my chest to burn even brighter. I want it this time to be lit not with the need to prove everyone wrong, but instead with the righteous indignation of all the women who finally have.
Maybe I’m not the best candidate to talk politics with strangers. But I couldn’t shake the feeling — the knowledge, really — that I’d copped out. Bailing on our first female President, of all people, because you’re scared? Nah, girl. I called the guy back, told him I could make it after all, held myself accountable on social media, and freaked out for ten minutes. But it was on. I was going.
YES, I’M EMOTIONAL AND I’M YELLING. BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKING EMOTIONAL FOR ME. I WANT A FEMALE PRESIDENT AND I WANT PRESIDENT HILLARY CLINTON. I WANT BOTH OF THESE THINGS BUT MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE I WANT WOMEN TO HAVE AN EQUAL FUCKING FAIR SHAKE.
Growing up as a young girl after the Depression, I never dreamed that the LGBT community would be where we are today. It’s been the joy of a lifetime to see the world change for the better for LGBT Americans before my very eyes.
But even though I’m not so young anymore, I’m not willing to stop fighting. I don’t want a single LGBT young person to have to face the stigma, isolation and internalized homophobia that so many of us had to deal with. This Pride month, let’s commit to making sure every lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender young person can grow up in a country where they can not only marry the love of their life, but go to school, work, and live free from fear and discrimination.
Hillary is the president who will fight to get us there. Because she knows what I know: Love trumps hate, the United States Constitution endures and justice will ultimately prevail.
I trust her. I don’t think Hillary has horns though she does have a vagina and wouldn’t you want it sitting on the chair in the Oval Office (not to get all weird) because things will never be the same. She will see something no woman in America has ever seen before and then all of us will see it. She’s like our astronaut. That’s what I want that at the end of this world or the end of this race the end of this joke: America. It’s why I ran (against her husband) in 1992. I wanted my vagina on that chair. Now I want Hillary’s there. I want to look back on my time. Even from right here.
Recently my mom and I were talking on the phone, and I asked her how she was feeling about the election.
“I always feel good about Hillary,” she replied.
For the first time in her life, my mom sees someone who can directly relate to her own experiences in a strong position to become president. Mrs. Clinton has led so many charges during her political career that have supported women, including fighting relentlessly for reproductive rights and speaking up for women and girls worldwide when she was secretary of state.
There has never been a president who knows what it’s like to menstruate, be pregnant, or give birth. There has never been a president who knows what it’s like to be the target of subtle and categorically unsubtle sexism. There has never been a president who was criticized widely for his political ambition, or forced into a bake-off to prove he’s not too career-oriented to cook for his family. There has never been a president who was forced to take his spouse’s last name for appearances’ sake. There has never been a president criticized for showing too much cleavage, or having “cankles,” or wearing unflattering headbands or colorful pantsuits. There has never been a president who was presumed to be mentally and emotionally unstable because of naturally occurring hormones.
Until 2009, there had never been a president who had to work twice as hard to be seen as half as competent, and it’s been a welcome change.
There are other reasons why I’m ready for Hillary, but even if there weren’t, I would probably still vote for her just because she’s a woman (who belongs to the party I find less odious). And I submit to you that for me, a person who has never been fully represented by an American president in terms of policy or gender, that is a damned solid reason. What’s illogical and ill-considered is not my “vagina vote,” but the ludicrous notion that 226 years of male rule have somehow left us in a position where gender is immaterial.
The other week I was at a barty (that’s a party at a bar for all you purists out there), and, as part of my therapy homework, I went up to these two men and was like hello guys! and tried to let my blazer and top-knot bun do the rest of the talking. Turns out they were there for the same barty I was, and eventually we got to talking politics, because I’m really fun. That’s when one of the guys revealed he was voting for Bernie and said a phrase I’m familiar with by now: I just don’t understand why anyone would want her. (Her being Hillary, of course.)
In response, I made a noise in my throat (think Marge Simpson) and got into a cab.
I’m a 24-year-old feminist who is loudly supporting Hillary Clinton for President, and because of it I’ve been making that same sound in my throat a lot.
It’s a sound cluttered by years of loving Hillary. It’s a sound cluttered by years of defending her. It’s a sound that tugs gently at my high-school rejection of feminism and applauds my current devotion to that very same movement.
When I was 11 years old, my dad told me a little girl could grow up to be president. Forty-eight years later, I believe him.
At this point in my life, I understand and share her experience as a smart girl, a supportive spouse, a friend, a professional, a parent, a person who has lost parents. I see her comforting and listening to the Mothers of the Movement rather than shouting talking points from a podium. I listen to the Mayor of Flint describe how Hillary was not only the only candidate who called her, but that she followed up with action. I watched her interact with passionate young people from Black Lives Matter who disagreed with her in a way I now recognize as the mother of a teenager who may feel that I can’t always relate, whether or not it’s true.
I relate to Hillary. And I feel she relates to me.
I’ve watched the 2016 presidential election; I’ve read about how “unrelatable” Hillary Clinton is.
To me, Hillary is more relatable than any other candidate I’ve ever watched earn a major party presidential nomination. This election has been a public validation of everything my peers and I have experienced since starting our careers. Hillary has quietly, consistently, and effectively achieved more in her field than any of her opponents. Two former US presidents call her more qualified than they are. To watch her fight for a seat at a table with an opponent who is not prepared to be there is cathartic. She has let her actions speak for people who felt they didn’t have a voice, and in doing so, she’s paved the way for those people to speak up for themselves.
She’s also why I recently shared some of my own experiences with discrimination as an Asian American woman.
There are people who say that Hillary is courageous to keep going, despite the enormity of what she faces. But courage is doing something tough you don’t have to do, and doing it anyway. Hillary does not have the luxury of that choice. To get the job where she can have unique influence to effect the change she wants to see, she has to run this gauntlet of petty debasements, character attacks, mischaracterizations, dog whistles, and unfiltered sexism. There is no choice. There is only facing it, every day.
That is not to say she lacks courage. It is only to say that what she’s doing requires more than courage. It requires a fearsome tenacity to keep going, because there is no choice to avoid the horrors that await women who reach for more, except for quitting.
My apparent new career as Hillary Clinton’s self-appointed Anger Translator is a weird choice, maybe even a self-destructive choice, but honestly, ask yourself: How long would you make it, if people treated you the way you treat Hillary Clinton? Would you not just be furious, by now? Would you not have reached levels of blood-vessel popping, shit-losing rage, or despair? Because the fact that she’s dealt with it at all, and kept her shit together, is admirable. The fact that she’s been dealing with it for decades, and keeps voluntarily subjecting herself to it, and, knowing exactly how bad it will get, and exactly what we’ll do to her, is running for President again, and (here’s the part I love, the part that I find hard to even wrap my head around) actually winning? To me, that is awe-inspiring.
And her story moves me, on that level, simply as an example of a woman who got every misogynist trick in the world thrown at her, and who didn’t let it slow her down. On that level, she’s actually become a bit of a personal role model: When people yell at me, or dislike me, I no longer think oh, how horrible this is for me. I now think, well, if Hillary can do it. Seriously. If Hillary Clinton can be called an evil hag by major media outlets for most of her adult life and run for President, I can deal with blocking ten or twenty guys on Twitter. She’s dealt with more shit than I have. She’s still going. I really have no excuse not to do the same.
But she shouldn’t have to deal with it. This is all the byproduct of a misogynist culture. If you can cut through those expectations, or change them, a different woman – potentially a very different candidate – would emerge on the other side. So saying nice things about Hillary Clinton, for me, isn’t just something I do because I feel good about her. It’s not even something I do to piss people off. It’s a way to shift cultural dialogue, to allow for a world where women aren’t suffocated or crushed by our expectations of them – a world where Hillary, and every future female President or Presidential candidate, can focus on the task at hand, and not have to climb over a barbed-wire fence of hatred in order to change the world.
Hillary Clinton does not come without baggage, though I must confess, I cannot bring myself to give one single damn about the emails. As a woman, as a human being, I find some of Mrs. Clinton’s decisions unacceptable — her vote for the war in Iraq; some of the rhetoric she used during the 1990s; her stance, for far too long, that marriage equality was best left to the states. She has made decisions that treated marginalized lives cavalierly. It is difficult to reconcile such decisions with everything I admire about Mrs. Clinton.
I also know that no one can spend a lifetime in politics and public service and emerge with clean hands or a clear conscience. This is what I tell myself so I can feel more comfortable with supporting her. I recognize the rationalization.
In truth, I am not overlooking anything. I see the whole of who Mrs. Clinton is and what she has done throughout her career. At their best, people are willing and able to grow, to change. Clinton is not the same woman she was twenty years ago, or ten years ago. Even during the primary, running against Bernie Sanders, she demonstrated an ability to move further left from many of her centrist positions. Mrs. Clinton, as she presents herself today, impresses me. I am choosing to believe she is at her best.
And to be president of the United States, of any country, means making many impossible decisions, many of which will cost people their lives. As president, I know Hillary Clinton will make more decisions that appall me or make me uncomfortable. There is no such thing as an ideal president who never has to make life or death decisions. I can only hope that as president, Mrs. Clinton will make those decisions with grace and compassion.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
It’s time for another voting guide, snowflakes, because the election is so close! So close! A woman is gonna be president so soon! Get the fuck into it! And while you’re at it, vote for these queer and trans women. They’re lower down on the ballot, like a little bit below these Congressional candidates you should also vote for, but way up there in my heart. (You might recognize some of them from here.)
wnpj
I have so much love for JoCasta, who came out as bisexual in 2012 while serving in the Wisconsin state legislature. While there, she’s waged wars for LGBT rights and proudly centered her working-class roots. She won one term in the closet and one out. Help her win another one, please.
Kate Brown, amazing and badass Governor of Oregon, cannot be ousted. She’s the first LGBT governor, second woman to ever serve in her position, and one of six women nationwide to hold her title. She’s a fighter for equality, the environment, and gun reform — and would not rest when women’s health and rights were at stake in her state. Also, I love her glasses.
via A Wider House
Kelly Cassidy spent two decades working as an organizer and legislative director, in which she developed domestic violence programs, tackled hate crimes and human trafficking, and fought back against laws that limited justice in cases of violence against women. She’s running for re-election after having spent five years now fighting for LGBT rights in the Illinois House —including not only of marriage equality but of the rights and safety of LGBT youth and trans policies statewide.
FYI FIlms
Kim Coco Iwamoto has already made history. In 2006, she became the first openly trans candidate ever elected to statewide office when she clinched a spot on Hawaii’s Board of Education — a spot she won once more in 2010. Now, she wants to make the same kind of history by becoming the first open trans candidate to win a legislative race, and she plans to wield her power for endless good — continuing her fights for equality as well as pushing for support for the homeless and policies that make healthcare more accessible and protect natural resources.
Leslie Herod, inspired by her mother’s time in the Army Nurse Corps, has dedicated her life to public service. She tackled LGBT inclusivity at her college. She spent years in the Colorado State Capitol addressing poverty and mental health. When dabbling in philanthropy, she married issues of LGBT rights and racial justice. She’s currently serving in several organizational bodies that focus on issues of gender, race, homelessness, and youth engagement. Don’t let her get away. She’s gonna stay golden and we’re gonna be better for it.
New Statesman
Mary Gonzalez, a life-long activist from Clint, Texas, comes from a mixed professional background: She’s worked in politics, academia, and the non-profit sector. But throughout all of it, she has centered her communities — queer folks, Latinas, and women. You may have seen her at any number of high-profile totally gay / feminist conferences, but if you haven’t yet, go ahead and take a minute to fall in love with her now and maybe give her all of your money.
CNN
Park Cannon! At this point, Park Cannon feels like an old friend. At 24, she became the youngest person ever elected in Georgia and the third openly gay member of the state House. She’s still there fighting the good fight, and I stand by my previous claim that she’s the one we’ve been waiting for. The bonus? No more waiting! Just go out there and vote your heart out and she’ll be ready and willing to serve like the badass queer, feminist woman of color with a grassroots background you’ve loved for so long.
Sabrina Cervantes has used her time in the California Assembly to push for college affordability, accessible government services, environmental conservation, and improved civic engagement. When she’s not busy getting shit done in the Golden State’s legislative body, she can be spotted making change with a number of feminist and queer non-profits. If someone had told me about her before I picked up and moved and changed my life forever, maybe I would have moved to the Inland Empire and become her best friend. (JK, but I’d still like to be her best friend.)
Sacramento Bee
Susan Eggman became the first Latina and first openly gay person ever elected to the Stockton City Council in 2012, where she brought to the table some military experience and other experience working in the mental health and social work sectors. Now, she’s a public servant focused on issues of LGBT equality and consumer protection. She’s also raising her niece with her partner of over 30 years in Stockton Victory Park as we live and breathe, which is just to idyllic not to savor.
Times of San Diego
Toni Atkins, or as I now would like to demand we call her, Lucky 69, is currently the 69th Speaker of the California Assembly representing San Diego, a city which holds a special place in my heart and I’d like to tell her more about. She was previously on the City Council and served as Acting Mayor — and now, she’s a champion for women, LGBTQ folks, and the homeless in the state Senate. Her accomplishments include improving state non-discrimination laws, expanding STD and HIV care access, and authoring legislation helping make legal name changes easier for trans folks.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
Wow, what a two weeks it’s been! Was it really only two weeks since we were excited for the debates? That’s weird, because now the mere notion of watching another one seems like one of the darkest and most daunting tasks possible! After all, watching a man-child menacingly threaten and denigrate one of the most accomplished, intelligent, and straight-up perfect women in the world isn’t my idea of a good time. It’s become more clear than ever that Donald Trump can’t ever be president. In fact, he probably shouldn’t even be legally allowed to exist.
But the problems with Donald Trump — and the parts of toxic masculinity that he embodies in the world of politics — don’t stop with Donald Trump. These are the GOP’s problems, even if Trump does present them in a particularly inarticulate, clumsy, and foul way. There’s a reason Republican leaders have been quick to denounce Trump’s whole “grabbing pussies for fun” commentary but haven’t actually revoked their endorsements of him. There’s a reason his running mate hasn’t run for his life.
That reason is the core of the Donald Trump problem: The things he actually stands for. Those things aren’t unique to him. Those things aren’t even novel. Those things — sexism, racism, xenophobia, classism — are the basic tenets of the Republican Party.
And these women are fighting like hell to join Hillary in stopping that agenda, once for all. They’re part of a growing movement to take back Congress — particularly, and more hopefully, the Senate — come November for the Democratic party and usher in more progress and push back against the regressive politics and divisive tactics that have overtaken our government. These women are running for open seats in elections pitting them against Republicans or are fighting like hell to overthrow incumbent Republicans. There’s more women and more Democrats making these attempts and a whole bunch more pushing for re-election or seeking seats in blue districts. They all matter!
We’ve talked a bunch about down-ballot races, on this website, in this column, and across the Internet and the country. It all still rings true. Hillary Clinton can and will defeat Donald Trump’s brazenly toxic campaign, but the work doesn’t end there. She needs support across different levels of government to make real change happen, and nobody is an island — not even someone as incredible as her.
Real political change happens up and down the ballot, in the streets and in the legislature, in the White House and the Governor’s Mansion. Let’s fight for every last seat.
Just a note: Next week, we’re doing state offices! I got you! All photos are from candidate websites and Facebook pages.
Angie Craig grew up in a trailer park and ended up being a driving force behind a health-oriented start-up, where she piloted a program to support women in business. (She also dabbled in teaching for a few decades, NBD.) She’s openly queer and is raising a whole crop of kids with her wife. She has policies outlined and ready to roll to help make college affordable and public education better, strengthen the economy and support working-class laborers, and improve public health and protections for the elderly. Her record and vision have earned her endorsements from feminist and queer organizations like LPAC, NARAL, Emily’s List, Planned Parenthood, the National Women’s Political Caucus, and numerous unions.
I know Ann has a face but COME ON
Ann Kirkpatrick is a third-generation Arizonan who has dedicated her life to the people of her state. A guidance counselor once told Ann “girls just don’t go to college” and decades later, she has experience as a Deputy County Attorney (the first woman to do so in Coconino County), a prosecutor who fought unabashedly for women who faced violence, a co-founder of a DV organization, state House member, and then member of the House of Representatives championing her state in Congress. Now, she’s fighting to make history as the first woman to ever represent Arizona in the Senate and take John McCain’s seat in the name of progress.
Catherine Cortez Masto is fighting to turn a red seat blue for Nevada in the Senate and make history in the process as the first Latina to serve in that body of Congress. Her campaign centers around many of the issues she tackled as a two-term Attorney General in the state, including women’s rights and economic protections. She’s running a campaign focused on humane and common-sense immigration reform, equal pay, reproductive rights, ending anti-LGBT discrimination, and raising the minimum wage.
Colleen Hanabusa is a fourth-generation Japanese American who has been serving her state for nearly 20 years, including a historic tenure in the state legislature as president of the Senate and two terms in the House of Representatives. Before her career in kicking ass and taking names in politics, she was a labor lawyer which shapes her policy platform centering wage discrimination, economic opportunity, and preserving the social safety net. After a short pause, Colleen is ready to serve in Congress again and rejoin a community of Democratic women of color getting shit done in the House. All she needs to make it happen is a victory for Rep. Mark Takai’s open seat.
Denise Juneau grew up on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation in Montana, went on to graduate from Harvard’s Graduate School of Education (and UM’s School of Law, just saying), and eventually served as a two-term Superintendent in Montana’s public school system. She’s now bringing an education-driven campaign to her state in pursuit of a contested seat in the House. If she wins, she’ll make history in pretty much every direction: She’ll be the first American Indian woman to serve in the House, the first openly gay woman to serve in the House, and the second women to ever represent Montana in Congress.
Katie McGinty is a former Chief of Staff to Pennsylvania’s Governor, first woman to ever chair the White House Council on Environmental Quality (thanks, Bill Clinton!), one-time candidate for PA Governor, and victor of a three-way Democratic primary that put her forward as the one to fight like hell for a Senate seat currently occupied by Republican Pat Toomey. She would be the first woman to ever represent Pennsylvania in the Senate, and she would come prepared to go hard with feminist policy positions ranging from raising the minimum wage, expanding anti-discrimination laws for LGBT folks, upholding abortion rights, and passing labor legislation addressing equal pay and paid leave.
Lisa Blunt Rochester will make history as the first African-American woman and first women ever, actually, to represent Delaware in the House if she can win a race for the state’s only seat in the body — which just so happens to have been vacated by John Carney, who is now running for governor. Lisa previously served a historic term as Delaware’s Secretary of Labor, as well as having served as Secretary of the Health and Social Services Department and as the state’s personnel director investigating sex and race discrimination in law enforcement. She’s a strong fight for pro-choice policies, equal pay, and gun reform. She’s running against two other Democrats, but let’s be real: She’s the best.
Maggie Hassan is currently Governor of New Hampshire, but now she’s going head-to-head against right-wing incumbent Kelly Ayotte for a Senate seat. As governor, she diverted efforts to defund Planned Parenthood, signed a Paycheck Fairness Act into law, and froze tuition at public colleges in the state.
Stephanie Murphy’s family came to America from Vietnam when she was only one year old —escaping by boat and becoming refugees temporarily in Malaysia. Now, she has the chance to break in to the House through a hotly contested race with an incumbent for a newly re-drawn seat in Florida. She would bring to that legislative body a wealth of experience in politics — including her time as a national security speciality in the Office of the Secretary of Defense and member of the Council on Foreign Relations. Her subsequent career in the business sector has shaped her policies around economic equality and educational opportunity, and she’s also a strong pro-choice voice.
Tammy Duckworth is quite possibly one of the most admirable women in politics — and definitely one of the most fearless and courageous. A veteran who was severely wounded as a helicopter pilot, she’s a champion for women and veterans — and often, those caught in the intersections of both identities. She’s also a historic figure due to her service and her gender: She’s the first double-amputee woman to have ever won a seat in the House. Tammy, who was born in Thailand, is challenging Senator Mark Kirk for his seat in an attempt to flip it blue and use it as a platform to fight for women’s rights, clean energy, improving healthcare, pushing for common-sense immigration reform. Her political career includes time as Director of the Illinois Department of Veterans Affairs and Assistant Secretary at the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
And then there were five.
With the inclusion of CNN’s Martha Raddatz on the roster of this year’s presidential debate moderators, women have officially hit the lowest bar for inclusion ever: We’ll now have been five out of a much larger number of men who got to interact with presidential candidates, field their questions, and sigh as they surpass their previously declared time limits for vocalizing their ideas about the world on the national stage at said debates!
Raddatz is following in the footsteps of Pauline Frederick of NPR and Barbara Walters of ABC News, who moderated a debate each in 1976 and, for Walters, again in 1984; Carole Simpson of ABC News, who moderated in 1992; and Candy Crowley of CNN, who moderated in 2012.
The issue of gender in politics has been, as of late, playing out in fights centered on the debate stage. Activists this year pushed during the primaries for moderators to #AskAboutAbortion, and before Monday’s debate that made me claw my eyes out until I bled to death UltraViolet and Feminist Majority launched petitions demanding questions from Lester Holt addressing women’s issues. In 2012, Candy Crowley’s role as moderator came after a petition that gathered over 100,000 signatures.
In a realm like politics where women have been so remarkably erased, silenced, and made altogether absent, activists who push for representation on stage or in the discourse occurring between the people who make it there share the same goal: The idea that inserting women into the presidential debates might make their issues more central and pressing to the men who have, for centuries, regarded themselves smugly as “leaders of the free world.”
But what does a female moderator actually do to shift discourse? What impact have they had? It turns out, looking at their stories and experiences, that gender still permeates the debates — and their ability to have an impact on the conversation.
Please tell me in the comments what questions you’d like me to ask at the next presidential debate.
Ah, our historic first! Pauline Frederick came to the debate stage already a pioneer: She was an NBC News United Nations corespondent for 21 years — the first and only woman at that point to hold a correspondent position for more than a decade — and then became a foreign affairs correspondent for NPR two years before she was asked to moderate. (The best part? “She broke into broadcast journalism in the 1930s, when ABC hired her to cover a forum on how to get a husband.”)
Unfortunately, Frederick’s historic voice was lost when she moderated a debate between Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter that year — because she wasn’t given the opportunity to actually ask any questions! Instead, she was chaperoned by three men who helped her out by asking all of them, duh. Frederick regarded her role as “kind of a policeman, keeping discipline, introducing, bridging gaps, closing off.” I’m very closed off to the emotions that well up inside of me re: this situation, Pauline, to be honest.
Although she was denied the opportunity to make waves on the debate stage, Frederick went on to remain a boss in her field and a legend among her peers. Before her death, she became the first woman to receive the DuPont and Peabody awards and appeared twice on Gallup’s list of the 10 Most Admired Women.
“She was the first full-fledged woman correspondent and opened doors for women’s acceptance in television and radio journalism,” Beryl Pfizer of NBC told the LA Times when Frederick passed in 1990, “And besides, she was a heck of a person.”
Barbara Walters needs no introduction. Walters is a living legend, and her work has torn down walls and opened doors for women in the field of journalism. Unfortunately, she came to the debate stage in the same year as our old friend Pauline Frederick, and faced the same dilemma. Walters, accompanied by three men, asked no questions and was seen but not heard until it was time to thank the men on stage for speaking, which of course nobody thanks men for doing enough.
A week later, ABC News anchor Barbara Walters moderated the final presidential debate between Ford and Carter, though she too was joined by three male colleagues.
In both cases, the women’s only role was to call on the candidates and introduce the male journalists.
“Thank you. Governor Carter, your response, please,” went a typical statement from Walters in that debate. “Thank you. Mr. Maynard, your question to Governor Carter.”
This wrong was righted in 1984, when Walters moderated a debate between Ronald Reagan and Walter Mondale that has since become legend because of Reagan’s poor performance. She was joined again by a panel — one which included Diane Sawyer, noted other woman, who asked questions! — and although she herself didn’t ask said questions, she ran that show like a boss.
Carole Simpson moderated a Town Hall Debate in 1992 between George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton, becoming the first woman of color to fill the role and the woman often mistaken as the first woman to ever moderate a debate. Unlike her predecessors, she wielded a lot of directional power in that debate; unfortunately, much like them, she did not actually get to decide on the questions or ask them herself. Because of the format, Simpson was mostly acting as an “Oprah-style” figure, handing off the mic to audience members who then directed questions to candidates. I heard strangers on the street know a lot more than women in the journalism field about news and issues of the day, anyway, so who cares.
When Simpson reflected on her historic appearance on the national stage for a piece in the Huffington Post, she remarked that she didn’t exactly leave feeling empowered:
Even though Simpson cracked a glass ceiling as the first minority woman to run a presidential debate, the event was not the major feminist breakthrough it seems, she said. The 1992 presidential campaign saw the first “town hall” style debate, which means Simpson’s job mainly consisted of walking through the audience and handing people the microphone so they could ask their own questions.
“They kept saying they wanted an Oprah-style town hall format, so that probably had something to do with them choosing a black woman,” she said. “I was told in my earpiece by a producer, ‘Go interview the lady in the green dress on the left, and now the man in the red sweater.’ I had no control over the questions that were asked, or who asked, or in what order. I was like a traffic cop.”
If she could have asked Bush her own question, it wouldn’t have been the one everyone else was asking about his involvement in the Iran-Contra affair.
“I knew him quite well and had covered him for eight years, and I heard him say one thing to white suburban audiences and then go into minority communities and say something quite different,” she said. “I wanted to ask him, ‘What is that all about?’”
This brings us, then, to 2012. Two decades after the last appearance by a woman at a presidential debate, a petition campaign brought Candy Crowley to a debate between Barack Obama and Mitt Romney. Crowley is perhaps the best example of the kind of hell-raising a woman can do, and perhaps the most deserving of the four women in this post to have the Kanye West song “Power” reworked into the Lil Carmen version (“no one bitch should have all that power”) and played in a montage about her life.
When Crowley, who actually did get to ask questions of the big, scary men on the stage, dared to fact-check Romney in that debate, Republicans lost their minds. Never mind the fact that um, facts matter! And never mind the fact that voters often don’t know the true information being obscured on debate stages. And never mind the fact that women are smart and should rule the world and that information isn’t partisan! No! Obviously, it was time for a witch hunt.
It isn’t just a five-word fact-check, though, which sets Crowley apart. It’s that despite the same sexist hurdles her predecessors faced — being put on stage to moderate a “Town Hall” style debate, for example, or, y’know, being the only woman in the room, for another — Crowley was openly insistent that she would inject herself into the debate. She didn’t want to relinquish direction or control. She wanted to run that god damn show. And yeah, I mean, it goes without saying, but: A bunch of men hated her for it afterward. Feminism!
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
When I was newly 21, I was invited to speak at the SPARK Summit — a gathering of girl activists and their allies who wanted to fight sexualization in the media together. What set that event apart from the others I’ve ever spoken at or attended wasn’t the structure, the setting in midtown Manhattan, or the badass conversations — although they abounded. Instead, it was all of us. We were a bunch of girls — I was one of the oldest and felt instantly bad about it, side bar — leading the fight.
We were speaking about our own experiences instead of being spoken at, or spoken to, or lectured at, or spoken down at, or being asked about our methods and our passions in a critical or patronizing way. Nobody dissed us for being into the Internet. Nobody blamed us for the cultural shifts that had placed girls and young women in a precarious place within rape culture, one of sexualization and sexual violence. Nobody told us how to wage our own fights against sexism. Instead, we finally found a place where we could center our experiences and talk about them. It brought us together. It laid the foundation for some of the most powerful feminist activism I’d come to see to date.
What came out of that summit was SPARK, the movement. Together, girl activists like me fought and won battles against airbrushed ads, rape culture in high school sports, and even the erasure of women from Google Doodles. Girls in SPARK were on the brink of becoming the voices of their time. SPARK alum I remain connected to aren’t just change-makers; they’re Earth-shakers.
And it’s because nobody doubted us. It’s because nobody silenced us. It’s because we existed in a space where adults — grown-ass women who, I might add, were badass in their own right (Shelby Knox, Jamia Wilson, and Dana Edell among them) — wanted to empower us, give us the tools and wisdom to succeed, and fuel our passions rather than funnel them toward the priorities of the existing feminist movement. They wanted us to lead. They wanted us to fight. They wanted us to set the terms of our battles, pick our issues, and follow our passions.
That’s the kind of work Lyn Mikel Brown has dedicated her life to, and it’s the framework for her book Powered By Girl, out now. SPARK, as well as Hardy Girls Healthy Women and Powered By Girl, are girl-fueled feminist organizations she launched where future feminist leaders set the pace for the movement’s future and receive support from tried-and-true feminist leaders on how to fight and win over and over and over again, and how to fail and get back up. In Powered by Girl, she lays out the mechanisms for supporting girl-fueled activism — and leaves readers with a distinct impression of its might.
I chatted with Lyn this week about the book, young feminists, and intergenerational activism. For more where this magic all came from, buy the book immediately.
You came to writing this book after years of doing work that explicitly encouraged and created models for intergenerational feminist activism. How did that become such a passion of yours?
I had the incredible luck early in my career to work in a feminist collective with amazing women like Carol Gilligan, Janie Ward, Annie Rogers, Deborah Tolman, and Niobe Way. I still marvel at our revolutionary spirit. We never set out to worry about or fix girls. We set out to listen to them, to learn about girlhood from girls. We developed a feminist method we called the Listening Guide and a way of working that had integrity. My passion emerged out of that research and those relationships, and in response to the experiences girls shared with us.
I couldn’t listen to girls voice their experiences of oppression and not want to do something about it. But it wasn’t just my work to do. I developed a praxis, action informed by theory, in relationship with girls. Since girls are not interested in just talking about hurt or critiquing unjust practices or policies—they want to make things better—activism was the natural progression. My daughter grew up in the activist organizations I cofounded—Hardy Girls and SPARK—and her experiences of learning from other girls and from women convinced me of the power and importance of intergenerational work.
Powered By Girl outlines ways folks can support young activists. How did you come to activism? What shaped your own experiences as a young activist?
I was never a young activist, actually, but I did carry a sizable working-class-girl chip on my shoulder. I was attuned to unfairness, confused by the blowback I received from simply saying what I thought, and frustrated by pressures to be the kind of girl others seemed to want. But I didn’t have a critique or even a language to talk about gender or class-based power and privilege.
My older brother and I were close. He faced the Vietnam war draft and we talked a lot about resistance and consequences. I think that was my first introduction to political activism, at least in any close or personal sense. And then there was Gloria Steinem. I grew up in a pretty isolated part of the country, on the border between Maine and New Brunswick. Ms. was my first ever magazine subscription—don’t ask me how I even knew to ask for it. And Steinem’s Playboy bunny alias Marie Catherine Ochs was not only my introduction to systemic sexism, but my first inkling that I could go undercover and maybe find others like me in the active underground.
You profile many girl activists throughout your book and detail the work of different organizations. What have been some of the most powerful instances of intergenerational activism you’ve seen?
If we’re talking up close and personal and if powerful means broad, national impact, it would have to be some of the SPARK Movement campaigns: convincing Seventeen to give up photoshop, getting sit-downs with execs at LEGO about their sexist marketing practices and with Google about the need to diversify their Doodles. These campaigns were girl-led and adult supported. The Doodle Us campaign was especially complex. The girls did research proving a lack of gender and racial diversity, wrote a highly successful Change.org petition, created a moving and effective video, reached out to partner orgs, and pushed the entire campaign out through various social media platforms. In the end, not only did the Doodles change, but the girls were invited to extend their work by creating Women on the Map, an app that locates women’s contributions to history in various cities across the world.
Yet, the most emotionally and personally powerful actions I’ve been involved with have been small. Last year my students and I worked with girls from the local alternative high school and teen parent program to press for affordable public transportation. It was incredible to see girls with such self-doubt and disillusionment come together in coalition and insist on their right to access something so basic. This is the kind of work I love—encouraging girls to identify a problem that really matters to them and figuring out together how to solve it.
What say you to the media discourse that suggests generational divides in feminism are too big to overcome?
I would say those who write such things have never worked with girls in anything close to a genuine partnership. I would say they are uninformed, cynical, and lazy—relying on cliché and tired stereotypes. It’s hard to do intergenerational work, no doubt. We have to be humble and we have to be willing to be challenged and we have to know how to let go. But we are facing some very big, very wicked problems and we need to figure out how to work together if we hope to be around much longer.
Your work posits that young feminists are going to shape this movement and make it their own — and that everyone should come along for the ride. What do you think a future guided by some of the girl activists you’ve worked with looks like?
I have a lot of faith in this generation of young feminists. They are wide-awake, smart, strategic, brave, and wildly imaginative. I’m not sure about specifics, but whatever else the future holds, it will surely be a radical, boundary-crossing interruption of the way things usually go.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
The 2016 election is truly unlike any we’ve ever seen before. A woman is running for president! A reality star who has run multiple businesses into the ground and is proudly embracing the most toxic aspects of our socially constructed definition of masculinity is running for president! Everyone is wearing different versions of the same hat!
And in a way that we’ve never quite seen before in the US’s political history, women are at the center of our political discourse.
Scott Eisen / Getty Images
Some of the ways in which gender politics are finally impacting actual politics have manifested through the traditional means: voting and talking points. Women voters are moving away from Donald Trump, including women on the right, and Hillary Clinton is largely pulling them all in. The gender gap in the upcoming presidential election could be the largest in history. We already know that women have consistently shaped the outcomes of various elections — most notably, the 2012 election, in which women voters as a bloc single-handedly decided the fate of the nation between a President Obama and a President Romney. And this year, in an election some could say is “very important because Donald Trump can never be president,” women will have truly unprecedented influence on the outcome.
And all along the campaign trail, both Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump have shown that they are remarkably aware of the ways in which the 19th amendment will shape the election. The fact that Clinton has embraced this fact, leaning into talking about women’s issues explicitly, while Trump has decided to use it as lighter fluid for the dumpster fire that is his campaign is another point entirely, and one too obvious to warrant a post. Both candidates are talking about gender, whether it’s because they’re putting women and babies down at rallies or thanking young women for being the bright future of the world.
But both candidates are also centering women voters in a less explicit way. Both candidates are centering them by finally, at least in some ways, building their campaigns around the issues women voters have reported, time and time again, matter most to them.
We’ve explored together the ways in which women lead different political lives than men. We all mostly have a working knowledge of the things that come immediately to mind as “women’s issues” — reproductive rights, parental leave, etc. But that isn’t all women voters pay attention to. Instead, the voting gender gap is shaped by myriad issues that run the gamut from climate change to gun reform to national security.
In a feat of analysis never done before, Ms. crunched numbers on the gender gap and spoke to experts in the realm of politics and feminism for a recent report on how women will shape the 2016 election. In that feature, they spotlight the issues women voters put first: the economy and workplace issues, equality and equal representation, abortion and health care, LGBT rights (thanks ladies!), sexual violence, the environment and renewable energy, and national security. It’s also been noted that women voters are more invested than men in issues of education, gun control, and — duh — lady stuff like childcare. It isn’t shocking, then, that in a political landscape where more women than men are expected to turn out and most of them hate Donald Trump so fucking much, these issues sound awfully familiar. But what’s harder to grasp is how revolutionary this turn of events truly is.
When I spent twelve hours of my life watching political advertisements from the dawn of time to analyze the way women were portrayed in them, what stood out to me was that women’s faces and voices and bodies were present in the political discourse of their eras, but their issues weren’t. Instead, women were props — innocent faces to threaten with nuclear war, kind housewives to sing to you about a man who was gee golly gosh darn such a good choice for the Oval Office, and emotional wrecks talking about the pain of mismanaged political battles. Women were there to convey a point crafted by men, for men, and targeted toward other men. Women were never the voters in question — they were merely the messengers for the “actual voters,” imagined, of course, to be men.
How times have changed.
At the center of this marked shift, too, is a woman herself. Hillary Rodham Clinton came out of the gate in the primary season putting the issues that shape the gender gap — and reflect a growing feminist praxis among voters — first and foremost. She embraced running as openly female, rejecting campaigning as “one of the boys” and instead set forth with a new purpose: women to the front. She gave a spotlight specifically to the mothers of Black Americans shot by police. She came out aggressively in support of gun control, with one-woman-revolution Erica Smegielski leading that fight for her on the campaign trail in honor of her mother, who died at the Sandy Hook massacre. She’s carved out policies on labor rights that center around equal pay, paid family leave, and raising the minimum wage. She’s come out swinging in support of affordable, high-quality childcare. She actually says the word “abortion” and refuses to let politics trump women’s healthcare.
This election has been shaped by Clinton’s campaign at least as much as Trump’s trainwreck of one. She’s aggressively capitalized on her gender by positioning it not as a side note, or even a historic anecdote waiting to happen, but instead as a tangible asset than shifts her ability to lead. And in the process of doing so, Clinton’s campaign has forced Trump’s to play along — you may remember Ivanka’s surprisingly female-focused introduction of her father just a short while ago.
Donald Trump, too, has addressed abortion. (In short: “Nah, bruh.”) He released a shitty economic plan and then had his wife talk about women’s rights as workers, too, which was awkward since her own employees don’t get maternity leave. He has talked about guns, too. (Remember when he tried to convince people to use them to shoot Hillary Clinton or whatever?) And he’s definitely giving the whole “I like people of color and LGBT people, too, I promise,” thing a run for its money, albeit while also fucking it up every step of the way.
Somewhere in there, in the middle of this wet hot American mess, is the true revolution of this election. Many of us have pinned our hopes for a first woman president on this election, and understandably so. Electing a woman president would be fine and dandy, and I’m not sure how well you know me but I’d be pretty fucking into it, JSYK. Electing a woman president would mean finally shattering one of the highest glass ceilings in the nation’s history. It would mean putting a woman at the head of a power structure that, for centuries, has been a symbol of masculine force across the globe. It would mean finally watching a woman run the country and run shit all over the world, and it wold also mean watching me cry a lot of happy tears for probably a long time if not the rest of my life.
But Hillary Clinton’s truly revolutionary candidacy has already left a mark. In running, in embracing her gender, in centering women and the issues that women voters put first, Hillary Clinton’s campaign has broken new ground in our political system. Our conversations are no longer solely built on the premise of the male voter. Our political discourse is more inclusive than ever. At every level of the circus that is a presidential election and the government of the United States of America, women are not only being seen, but being truly heard. For the first time, women are explicitly at the core of a battle for the heart of the country.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, albeit for a different reason: Voting for women isn’t enough. Voting for women isn’t what makes politics change overnight into a realm women feel truly prepared for or comfortable in or, damn it, safe in. Electing women is truly and deeply important for this country. We need more women in office and we need more women in politics. But changing the culture — the sexism that permeates our every waking minute as women and the boys’ clubs that push us out of the world of politics and policy — is what truly matters.
And by shaping a national discourse around a presidential election around the issues that drive women voters to the polls, Hillary Clinton is doing her damnedest to get both done at once.
Women are definitely winning the Olympics, y’all. And not just because women are like, competing in a sex-segregated series of athletic events for two weeks in which the ultimate winner of each event has to be a woman because there are no men present, but also because women are literally owning that shit. Women are setting new records, beating their own records, setting new standards of excellence, redefining the notion of what a specific sport’s champions – and future – look like, breaking boundaries, defying odds, and even bringing feminist politics into the arena. The Olympic Opening Ceremony featured a trans woman of color! Feminists carried the Olympic torch! A record number of LGBT athletes are competing for gold medals!
We’ve come far. (Very, very far.) But there’s a long way to the promised land, and if we’ve learned anything in Rio it’s that the literal century-old fight for women’s full inclusion in a historic event — a fight that also includes battling not only sex-defined barriers, but barriers related to race, sexuality, and gender identity — isn’t over yet.
The Olympics were first held way back when in 776 BC. Setting the scene: It appears, to my knowledge, that for twelve centuries a bunch of sweaty men would gather in what are now ancient ruins and sometimes often kill each other for fun. Unfortunately, that model was put on hold when Emperor Theodosius Wet Blanket banned “pagan cults” in 393 AD and thus saved countless men’s lives. Centuries later in the 1890s, Baron Pierre de Coubertin, brought back the games but also was openly against women participating, since women doing sports was, in his eyes, “impractical, uninteresting, ungainly, and, I do not hesitate to add, improper.” He did not hesitate to add that “woman’s glory rightfully came through the number and quality of children she produced.” Men are amazing.
Despite the Baron’s ignorance, women found their place in the games as early as 1900, when a whole 22 showed up like badasses ready to compete. Four years later, eight women played. In 1920, 63 played. But even this kind of progress was, in the larger scope of things, pretty sad: Women made up only 2.2 to 2.4 percent of Olympic participants, and women were banned from participating in certain events. In 1928, though, hundreds of women turned out and turned up — but in the face of the perpetual fuckery of the patriarchy, many ultimately decided the best thing to do was organize and fight rather than train and work to break the Olympics from the inside out. Thus, the “Women’s Olympics” were born in 1922 and continued at the 1926, 1930, and 1934 games — a feat of snarky cultural commentary so impressive women were brought back into the fold by the IOC and ultimately shifted Olympic culture to expand what women had “permission” to rightfully participate in.
And yet, sexism persists, even in a new century. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new batch of social power politics rearing its ugly head overseas while Ryan Seacrest stands on a beach surrounded by unimpressed families. Commentators are pulling off feats of “astonishing” sexism, including but not limited to comparing female athletes to “girls at the mall” and crediting their husbands for their accomplishments and also struggling not to define women via comparing them to men. Queer women had to listen to homophobic chanting when they entered the field. People would rather talk about Michael Phelps placing second than Katie Ledecky blowing her competition out of the water (legitimately quite literally). The Olympics are more than halfway done and the collective internet has found enough to be outraged about in the disproportionate and sexist coverage erasing and facing women athletes, the pay gaps impacting women Olympians, and the sexist policies that shape the lives of women in sports.
None of this should be as shocking to us as it has been, though. All of this is reminiscent of the world-at-large, in which women athletes at all levels are routinely discriminated against by their governing bodies or their peers because women everywhere at every level of society are routinely discriminated against by institutions and other people. The Olympics fell smack-dab in the middle of a human rights crisis in Rio and a fight against wage discrimination being waged by literally the most successful women’s soccer team on the planet but people are still worried about men who aren’t as good at gymnastics as women feeling left out of a fame game that tears women — and especially women and girls of color like Gabby Douglas — apart. Even in a global competition of elite athletes women who are legitimately on top of their respective games are considered lesser. Even in a global competition of elite athletes happening in the 21st century, some women have yet to see themselves represented at the top — and others are just now beginning to know how it feels to finally be seen there.
The Olympics are sexist because sports culture is sexist because our society is sexist. The Olympics can feel like a separate universe, like a tinier problem we can fix on its own, but these problems run much deeper than this event or the culture that fosters and created it. This is an event built on a sexist legacy of male supremacy and dominance — much like a majority of cultures around the world.
This isn’t to say, though, that we should give up those smaller battles. We should support the women at the Olympics and the women leading sports culture at every level publicly and visibly, much like women in Rio have been doing on social media this week. We should push for women competing at the Olympics to be able to return home with the same freedom to play in a “man’s world.” (We should also remember that some nations still won’t send women to compete, and that putting pressure on them matters.) We should continue pushing the IOC to be better – from outside and from inside that power structure. We should demand that when there’s equal play, there’s equal pay. We should sign petitions and raise our voices about these issues. We should show up when women in sports need us to show up.
When we champion women athletes, though, we should never lose sight of the real victory that would unite them all: A world in which the notion of women being treated fairly, compassionately, and respectfully is no longer in progress. The real victory comes when the women bravely facing down sexism to do their thing — and do it well — on the world stage can look back and smile defiantly at how much things have finally changed.
Header by Rory Midhani
I was #blessed last week to give up sleep, sanity, and the final shreds of my moral fiber in exchange for being an eyewitness to the historic 2016 Democratic National Convention. In contrast to the circus that was the RNC, the DNC offered us a sense of solidarity and a sense of excitement for what was to come — four days of cameras panning to Bill Clinton crying happy tears for his wife, multiple badass women performing and speaking, multiple badass women crying under intense lighting about what was about to happen to the world, eight thousand people yelling a woman’s name, and a series of historic feminist “firsts.”
There was Cecile Richards, who said the word “abortion” for the first time ever on a convention stage. (It’s 2016. Sidebar.) There was the nation’s first Black president enthusiastically passing the baton to his successor — the party’s first woman nominee — and then embracing her with pride. There was the sight of a woman born before (white) women’s suffrage in 1920 helping tip the roll call scale into Hillary Clinton’s favor. There was Hillary Clinton, finally exhaling, finally proud of herself, finally officially fucking running for president I actually can’t.
And there was Sarah McBride — trailblazing trans advocate and, um, humblebrag, old friend of mine — taking the stage at the DNC to talk about her journey and the promise of a better future for trans people. She was the first trans person to ever speak at a major party’s national convention, and she did so flawlessly, as expected, and later cried in her parents’ arms.
I did run into Sarah at the convention, at the Planned Parenthood party Tuesday night. We looked cute. But I looped back with her after the whole hot amazing beautiful mess had come to a close to talk about using politics to change trans lives, why she’s so into Hillary Clinton, what it feels like to speak to a packed arena full of people and also actually eclipse me in fame points, and also whether or not she’s still gonna run for president like she promised me in 2012.
Carmen: You made history last week when you spoke at the DNC. Can you gush to me for a second about how that felt? What it felt like to be at the DNC and take that stage and tell your story?
Sarah McBride: It really was an honor to be able to stand on that stage and, hopefully, help educate the country a little bit more about transgender equality. More than anything else, I wanted to reinforce the simple fact that transgender people are people, who hurt when they are mocked, who hurt when they are discriminated against, and who want to be treated with dignity and fairness.
Standing on that stage and having an arena full of people standing up and applauding for transgender equality was about the most empowering and inspiring things I’ve heard witnessed. Immediately following the speech, I walked out on the floor of the convention and came across an older transgender delegate whom I have known for a year or so. We both embraced with big smiles on our face, but as we hugged, we both began to cry. I can’t speak to why she started crying, but as I hugged her, I thought about all she has seen, the years of fear, the years of fighting, and the fact that she is now attending a major party’s political convention that has so clearly affirmed the dignity of transgender people, a convention that gave a standing ovation to our equality and the presence of a transgender person on that stage.
I then walked over to where my parents were sitting and immediately began crying when I saw my parents and, in particular, my dad. They were so worried when I came out. They feared for my safety, that I wouldn’t be able to get a job, and that I would be rejected by the communities that I loved. Seeing them, I just thought that I hope they see that I’m going to be okay.
Also, please tell me what it’s like to be tweeted at by Joe Biden.
Pretty incredible. Everyone loves Joe Biden. How can’t you?
I had the chance to work with the Vice President’s son, Beau, who was such a supporter of LGBTQ rights. When I came out, Beau immediately called me to express his love and support. A year or so later, I attended a party at the Vice President’s residence and when the VP saw me, he came up, put his arm around me and said, “Hey kid, I wanted to let you know that Beau is so proud of you, Jill is so proud of you, I’m so proud of you and I want to know one thing, are you happy?” And when I said yes, he responded, “that makes me so happy.” And he gave me a big hug. The Bidens are as loving and warm in person as they seem in the media.
You’ve been an outspoken and fierce advocate for Hillary Clinton. As an LGBTQ advocate, what drew you to her in the primary? What about her makes you so passionate?
Beyond just admiring her as an accomplished person, I was really drawn to her approach to policy in the primary. I have a lot of respect for Bernie Sanders and I’m really glad he ran, but I think Secretary Clinton ran in a way that understood that the presidency isn’t a single-issue office. I appreciated that she acknowledged that while income inequality is a huge problem, that even if we solved it tomorrow, institutional and system racism would still exist, sexism would still exist, homophobia, transphobia, and ableism would still exist. That approach and understanding is incredibly important to me.
Oh, yeah, I’m also ready for a woman president and I’m not afraid to say it. I wouldn’t settle for anyone, obviously, but with Hillary Clinton, the most qualified candidate in history and one who has released comprehensive, progressive plans to move us forward, I’m not settling.
What policies are in the Democratic platform that are key for trans people, and what policies would you like to see come next? What specific policy changes would you like to see ushered in during a Hillary Clinton presidency?
Hillary released the most detailed plan on LGBTQ equality of any candidate for president in history. For trans folks, she has included several key planks. She will push for the Equality Act, which will provide comprehensive nondiscrimination protections for LGBTQ people nationwide. She is committed to addressing violence against transgender people, particularly trans women of color, and has described that violence as an urgent problem. She has also committed to utilizing existing sex protections to protect both trans and gay people. That is a really important position that will provide life-saving protections for LGBTQ people right now, even without congressional action. Sex protections are the front line of defense against discriminatory, anti-trans legislation and the fact that Hillary Clinton supports those interpretations is vital.
There’s been a lot of conversation this election about “establishment” politics that paints traditional routes to change in a bad light during this election. How do you feel LGBTQ folks can leverage mainstream political power structures to advance their agenda?
To gain the change we so desperately need, we need to push for change in every way we can, including through traditional political means. Public policy isn’t a silver bullet by any means, but those changes and reforms can save lives and give people the security and safety to make it through the day, provide for themselves and their family, and, potentially, push for more change. We need to vote and we need to explain to people – both in the LGBTQ community and elsewhere – the stakes of this election. Donald Trump is a threat to the safety, wellbeing, and lives of marginalized and vulnerable communities across the country. He’s committed to appointing anti-LGBTQ judges, endorsed the right of states to pass hateful and discriminatory laws, and, in effectively his first governing decision, named a running mate whose entire national profile rests on being anti-LGBTQ. Additionally, LGBTQ people are also Muslims, women, people of color, immigrants, and people with disabilities and when he attacks any one of us, he is attacking all of us.
You’ve done work at a national level but also at a state level. How important are down-ballot races to LGBTQ folks this year, and what can LGBTQ folks and their allies do at different levels to improve the lives of queer and trans people? What kind of advocacy is better suited to state or local politics, and how can we win national battles at those levels?
State and local elections are vital in the advancement of LGBTQ equality and the effort to combat anti-LGBTQ attacks. Most of the action, good or bad, is happening at the local and state level. While I’m optimistic about our chances with Congress this cycle, we still have a long way to go before we have pro-equality majorities in both chambers. In the meantime, we need to elect city councilmembers and legislators who support our rights. We need to elect mayors and governors who will fight for us. Last year, we saw over 200 hateful, anti-LGBTQ bills at the state level. We are likely to see just as many next year. The fate of those bills will rest largely in the legislatures we elect.
While nationwide change is important, we cannot forget the local change is just as, if not more, important. The only way for legal equality to become true lived equality is for our schools, hospitals, workplaces, and government services are welcoming and safe places for LGBTQ people. Much of that progress rests on local and state governments.
Last but not least: When we served in the student government together that time, you and I formalized a casual agreement that when you were POTUS, I’d run the White House Council on Women and Girls. Just looking to re-confirm.
Haha, can we switch roles?
Girl, yes.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
feature image via Wikimedia
Header by Rory Midhani
Government generally works better for marginalized groups when more members of those groups are present in it, advocating and legislating for their communities. It’s this kind of common sense logic that has led half of the nations in the world to implement gender quotes in their governments to guarantee that women have a seat at the tables where decisions are made daily that impact their lives.
When we look at the phenomenon of women in government, we find that there’s more going on than just better representation: women are also more effective lawmakers and public servants. Women pass more legislation, govern by consensus and coalition-build, and just generally get more shit done than their male counterparts. They’re also more likely to listen to constituents and actually take into account what the folks they represent want to see them do in office, and they’re less likely to serve out of a desire for personal power and more likely to do so in pursuit of a greater good. Perhaps the most important reason we need more women in politics is because if we can dedicate ourselves to electing a more diverse array of public officials today, we might have a more nuanced and truly representative democracy tomorrow.
Data has shown that women are — surprise, surprise! — more attuned to the sexism that runs deep in this nation than men. Studies also show that even women who don’t identify as feminists still tend towards women’s issues and govern with a gendered perspective, whereas men who don’t identify as feminists… don’t.
The problem with our conversations around electing more women to politics or elevating women in other sectors to positions of higher leadership is that they move in a cycle: We need more women here, here’s why there aren’t more women here, gee we fixed the thing or thought we did and now there’s still no women here. It seems that we won’t see more women in leadership positions until we start seeing more women in leadership positions. It’s hard to build momentum without a first, second and third person who starts things off — but without the momentum, how do you get the first, second and third pioneers in the door?
This is where quota systems come in.
There are two very different schools of thought when it comes to what political equality looks like, and it basically comes down to an argument about equity versus equality. Whereas some political systems are centered around equality of opportunity for women in politics — basically, the system we have in the US that (in theory) gives women the chance to run for office and be elected to office just like men, nothing different and nothing more — a growing number of nations and political parties have opted instead to make broader representation of women in their governments an explicit political goal using quota systems. This creates a framework where it isn’t just up to individual women to fight tooth and nail for a shot at being a token. Instead, quota systems normalize — nay, require — women’s participation in political leadership, and they also require that the parties competing for seats at all levels of government in any given region do the work to make sure they get there.
There are myriad kinds of quota systems in place across the world. What they have in common is a goal of women reaching “critical minority” status in their governments and serving in 20 to 50 percent of the elected and public service positions within them. Some quota systems aim to do this by restricting men’s participation, and others do it simply by placing a motivating focus on increasing women’s participation. Not all quota systems are based on gender, either: lots of countries have quota systems in place that address representation across lines of race and class, too, among other factors; Bhutan, Venezuela, and Slovenia are just a few of the countries with quotas for ethnicity, for example.
Though there is no “model” all nations have come to follow over time, there are three distinct kinds of quota systems. Reserved seat systems require women to serve in a certain number of positions, but may also cap their participation due to the nature of the notion of “assigning” seats by gender. Legal candidate quotas mandate that a certain number of women appear on the ballot, putting the onus on parties to recruit them. Political party quotas are internal mechanisms used by those parties, sometimes by their own fruition and free of a legal mandate to do so, to ensure greater parity within their party’s leadership and recruitment.
Around 45 nations have legal gender quotas in place, and many individual political parties have internal quotas to achieve the same goals. When it comes to whether they’re successful, the numbers and the data speak volumes. Bolivia’s government is 53 percent female. Mexico’s government is 42 percent female. Afghanistan’s reserved seat system has fundamentally changed the face of their government, which is now over a quarter women. Iceland has no legal quotas, only quota rules in place within political parties, and yet is ranked #1 in women’s representation and has witnessed many women presidents and PMs. An IPU report in 2012 found that nine of ten countries with the highest growth in women’s representation as MPs and in parliament had quota systems in place. Nations with quota systems in place that once required appointing women to various seats have started seeing a marked shift in which women are actively winning them instead.
That being said, they also often fall short — and often the numbers don’t tell the full story. Women are sometimes found at the bottom of a ticket, putting them at a statistical disadvantage. In other nations, like Brazil, the ways donations are funneled to candidates leaves women, who are part of a quota system incentivizing their candidacies within their parties, stuck with underfunded — and thus often failing — campaigns for office. In the Middle East, quota systems have taken the political world by storm — but women who make it to the top and serve find themselves alienated by their male peers and haven’t wielded much additional power within the system. (In Afghanistan, lawmakers even decided women had enough of a share and lowered the quota goal.) In some political systems, like that in Iraq, the division of power still ensures male dominance despite quota laws. Additionally, ensuring compliance with quota laws is key — and often isn’t effective.
Quota laws are not an island. They can make a big impact when implemented properly, but the mitigating factors by nation are many. How well quota systems work is a question that requires qualitative and quantitative data, because it isn’t just enough to let women sit at the table if they don’t actually have the power to effect change; it isn’t enough to tell political parties to put women forward and then let them fuck those women out of a fair shot.
In a nation like the US, though — one where women are posited to have unprecedented opportunity but remain devastatingly underrepresented within (and, quite often, targeted by) the political systems in place at every level — a quota system could change everything. If women in a representative democracy had a larger collective share of power and influence, it could trigger a sea change in not only how many women aspire to become part of the political process but also how much policy would center on women and their needs, and how likely it would be to pass.
Women are certainly capable of winning elections in the US; with a quota system in place, though, they would feel less isolated in their attempts to do so. With a quota system in place, they would have women to look to who had come before them — and so would voters. These things are pivotal, here and elsewhere. And although quota laws may not deliver us all from evil men and their longstanding reign of absolute power, they’re a strong start, when done right, at ensuring that women are in the room to push back. Oh, right. And to fundamentally shift how power is distributed, how policy is made and what policies are prioritized, and who is truly served by this nation’s laws.
One of the biggest criticism of quota systems is that they’re “not truly democratic.” But what could possibly be better — for our democracy and democracies across the world — than ensuring that our government is working for everyone?
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Hello, just as an introduction: Still not over the whole Hillary Clinton being the Democratic nominee for president situation. Has the magnitude of it set in, or maybe the incredible realization of how casual it is right now that a woman is running for president on a major party ticket? I hope so! Because we’re starting from there.
I’ve been seeing a lot of conversations online in the last two weeks about the women who shaped the path Hillary Clinton is now charting new ends to. There was Shirley Chisholm, who ran for president. There was Geraldine Ferraro, who was a VP on a major party ticket. I mean, I wrote an entire post about the women who had run for president throughout time, including Eileen F*cking Myles, because women running for the highest offices in the land is kind of my bag.
But it’s not just those women and firsts that matter. Women taking up space in politics means women taking up space at every level of the political world and in every branch of government, in every state and in every city. That’s what these six queer and trans women did. In my last installment of Rebel Girls, I briefed you on some of the badass glass ceiling crashers currently serving in office who are queer as f*ck. These six women came before them.
In what we all know by now is a sea of straight white men, these women dared to be out, loud, and proud when they were elected or appointed to office. And in doing so, they made history. These women were firsts on a national level. These women should be in history books. These women should be your new heroes.
Let’s do this thing. (As always. in ABC order.)
Sid Limitz/Election Ciddy
Althea Garrison was the first trans person ever elected to a state legislature. She was elected to the Massachusetts House of Representatives in 1992 as a Republican and served one term there. If she had it her way, though, she would have served a hell of a lot longer: Garrison ran in 1982, 1986, and 2000, 2006, and 2010 for State House; ran for Boston City Council seats in 1991, 2003, and 2005; ran in 2001 to be Boston’s mayor; and ran in 2002 for State Senate.
via NYTimes
Deborah Batts currently serves on the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York, but she made history in 1994 when she became the first-ever openly LGBT African-American federal judge. (Bill Clinton appointed her to a vacant seat in 1989.) Her major cases include a toxic air pollution case related to the 9/11 attacks and also an unauthorized sequel to Catcher in the Rye, because that shitty book haunts us all.
Racking up more LGBT history points for Massachusetts is Elaine Noble, who was elected in 1975 and then served two terms in the state’s House of Representatives — making her the first openly gay candidate ever elected to a state legislative body. She was an LGBT activist as well as a politician, and braved a lot for her historic win: destruction of her campaign office and car, harassment of her supporters, and even stray bullets hitting windows. In overcoming those adds, she took her place in LGBT history as the second ever LGBT person elected to office, period, and the third openly LGBT elected official of any sort — including those who had come out in office. She later sought a seat in the US Senate and a Cambridge city council seat, but both times was unsuccessful. Oh, right, and she dated Rita Mae Brown for a while, NBFD.
Joanne Conte, the first openly trans person to be elected to a city council in the nation’s history, served on Arvada’s City Council for four years. She identified as a “raging activist” and wanted to make government more accessible and transparent. Unfortunately, pressure put on her by a tabloid to out herself as trans ultimately scrapped her political career, although not for lack of trying: She fought like hell to appear on the ballot for the Colorado House in 1994 after initially being denied a spot, although she then lost the campaign. On the bright side, she was able to then dedicate herself to her activism again — and ultimately did a hell of a lot to pave the way for the trans women who would and still will come after her.
via Pride.com
Kathy Kozachenko won a seat on the Ann Arbor, Michigan city council in 1974, making her the first openly gay human to run for political office in the United States and motherfucking win win win no matter what. (Bonus points will be awarded for her party affiliation: the Human Rights Party.) Nancy Wechsler, who we will meet in a few seconds, served before her and came out while in office — but didn’t run as an out lesbian, whereas Kozachenko did.
via Old News
Nancy Wechsler came out as a lesbian while serving on the Ann Arbor City Council in 1973 at the age of 23 after an anti-LGBT hot mess at a local business. She didn’t seek re-election after coming out, paving the way for Kathy Kozachenko who we met a few sentences ago, and instead became a professional lesbian writer. All of this is to say that I am very proud to announce that Nancy Wechsler seems like she could be my soul twin.
Header by Rory Midhani
Hillary Clinton won a decisive victory in the almost-last round of Democratic primaries last night, winning by large margins in California, New Jersey, New Mexico, and South Dakota. (The only political body left is Washington, DC, which, as someone who used to live there, I can assure you won’t change shit.) What this means is that eight years after Hillary left the political glass ceiling chock-full of 18 million cracks, she’s finally busted it wide open.
I’m obviously overjoyed at this news. I mean, have we met? Do you follow me on Twitter? Are we Facebook friends? You could honestly have just shown up to the Internet today and probably be completely unsurprised that I know Hillary Clinton’s 2008 concession speech by heart and ate girl scout cookies last night for dinner just to revel in the girl power of this moment. (Also, side note, I need to buy groceries soon.)
But Hillary Clinton is not the world, and she’s not the only glass ceiling crasher in the building. There’s a whole lot of patriarchy left to shatter in this cruel world, including at every level of our government. And we need people to crash through glass ceilings in politics who aren’t just straight women.
That’s where these queer ceiling crashers come in.
These women — all of whom currently serve in their seats — ran not only as openly female, but also openly queer. That’s super important and super pivotal, and one day when I’m done pouring out all this champagne in Hillary Clinton’s honor and waiting to be taken as her wife I’ll probably be found begging them to run for president next. (And also looking to elect some badass queer women of color at every level of government because I mean, come on y’all. I’m ready for that revolution most of all.)
Also, I feel like we’ve been over this before, but I don’t believe in ranking women — and thus, these ladies are in ABC order.
Chris Detrick | The Salt Lake Tribune
Jackie Biskupski is the 35th Mayor of Salt Lake City, Utah — and the first openly gay human and second woman to fill the seat. She previously served in the Utah House of Representatives. She also recently named one of the streets in Salt Lake after Harvey Milk and I was really into it.
JoCasta Zamarripa serves in the Wisconsin State Assembly, and was elected just five years out of college in 2010. She came out as bisexual in a 2012 interview with the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, making her one of four openly LGBT members of Wisconsin’s state legislature and the third to serve in the House.
Kate Brown is Oregon’s 38th governor and America’s first openly bisexual one, which is mighty badass. She was appointed to her seat, so she technically never “won” office — but hopefully she will later this year, just saying. She previously served as Oregon’s Secretary of State, a member of the state Senate and a member of the state House.
Washington Post
Kyrsten Sinema represents Arizona in the US House of Representatives and was the first bisexual person elected to Congress ever. EVER! She previously served in both Arizona’s state Senate and House.
Mary González currently serves in the Texas House of Representatives and was elected in 2012, making her the first openly pansexual elected official in the motherfucking nation. In addition, G. Rivera believes she’s the coolest politician ever, which means everything.
Park Cannon is the youngest lawmaker in Georgia, having been elected to the state House at 24, and the third openly queer member of the chamber. She’s also a queer woman of color looking to shake things up who isn’t shying away from the hard stuff. Basically, Park Cannon is the one we’ve been waiting for. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Thank you for listening.
SF Gate
Roberta Achtenberg is the current Commissioner on the United States Commission on Civil Rights, and became the first openly queer public official confirmed by the Senate when she previously served as Assistant Secretary of the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. Aren’t you glad our government doesn’t work anymore and we can’t even get a SCOTUS justice out of those fools anymore?
Politico
Tammy Baldwin represents Wisconsin in the US Senate and is the first openly gay person to be elected to that chamber of Congress. She previously represented Wisconsin in the House and served in the Wisconsin state Assembly and is now one of the most liberal members of the Senate, probably because she’s movin’ on up with that gay agenda and has no plans to say sorry at any point for it.
AP Photo/Don Ryan
Tina Kotek is a member of the Oregon House of Representatives and was speaker for a year from 2013 to 2014. She was also the Democratic whip and co-speaker pro tempore in Oregon’s Legislative Assembly and served as the Democratic House Leader in their 2012 session. Also, she has a really gay haircut. Like, is that not just so amazing?
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
feature image via nevertrump.org
Header by Rory Midhani
Watching the Republican primary this year has been a wild and confusing ride through a hellish moral quandary for the right. Donald Trump, living embodiment of toxic masculinity, has destroyed 16 other candidates for his party’s nomination, clear-cutting all of his opponents in a political climate in which the GOP’s imminent self-immolation only becomes more apparent on the daily.
Republicans are very, very upset about Donald Trump. Even Fox News is upset about Donald Trump! Which begs an honest question from this GOP outsider: Why?
Do I think Donald Trump is a detestable human being who espouses view that make me vomit in my mouth? Yes. Do I think Donald Trump is a terrifyingly cavalier person who uses marginalized communities as pawns and scapegoats in an attempt to rise to power? Yes. Do I think Donald Trump is a racist, sexist, xenophobic piece of human garbage? Yep.
But it’s not surprising that I feel this way: I’m a queer mixed-race feminist with working-class roots, after all. I’m a lefty! An activist! For me to look at Donald Trump and feel my soul crumbling inside my skeleton wasn’t surprising. But watching his own party’s reactions to his campaign kind of has been.
Dozens of Republican legislators, legends, and everyday people have come out swinging against Donald Trump. #NeverTrump, they say, valiantly claiming a sense of nobility as they fight to save whatever scraps of dignity their party had left before this mess. Many of them claim they’re doing so because they can’t stand his “bigotry,” or — even more delicious — his “misogyny.” They’ve done so with such clarity that Hillary Clinton even recycled their talking points for an ad. In it, everyone from Ted Cruz to Mitt Romney to Jeb! Bush call out Donald Trump for being one of the worst human beings of all time, with a brief cameo from Chris Christie Who Is Dying Inside, which is my favorite Chris Christie because Chris Christie fucking sucks. (Jersey, baby.)
"President Trump" is a dangerous proposition.
Mitt Romney, Ted Cruz, and Marco Rubio agree.https://t.co/fUkISvgaXC
— Hillary Clinton (@HillaryClinton) May 4, 2016
And thus I found myself sitting at home, grinning ear-to-ear, glossing over my discomfort at finally agreeing with these people who so deplore me and my basic human rights, and pressing play again and again and again. (In my defense, I’m pretty stoked about an election cycle in which the Republican nominee’s own talking points drive millions of dollars — and hopefully thousands of supporters — to his Democratic opponent.)
But in the time since that ad dropped, I could help but wonder: Just where does the GOP set the bar for what it considers “bigotry,” or sexism, or just plain offensive bullshit? In what alternate universe is Donald Trump a greedy misogynist, but Mitt Romney is not? In what alternate universe is Donald Trump a “race-baiting, xenophobic religious bigot,” but Lindsey Graham is not?
And what does this kind of cognitive dissonance say about us?
Let us not forget, in our fervor to rub the GOP’s own destruction in its face, that every single Republican legislator coming out to oppose Trump largely aligns with his policies. Every single Republican voter or public figure speaking out about Trump’s behavior are people who would have, ostensibly, handily supported some of the other folks running — candidates who oppose raising the minimum wage and cutting taxes on the rich; candidates who unilaterally believe that women shouldn’t have control over their own bodies; candidates who have argued about who hates trans people the most; candidates who have, for the most part, demanded that their party take a hard stance on opposing humane solutions to America’s immigration complexities; candidates who have implicitly endorsed the Republican Party’s sexist witch hunt against Hillary Clinton — someone they’re now, astonishingly, being forced to admit is not the apocalypse-bringing anti-hero they painted her to be. These are people who have, until now, been part of what we can only believe was once a “unified” Republican party that adhered to a platform openly admonishing the human rights of immigrants, women, LGBT people, and people of color.
The jury is still out on whether Ted Cruz or Donald Trump would have been a more terrifying president because when you strip away the spray-tan and the reality TV theatrics, they agreed on a lot more than they disagreed on. In fact, I’d venture that Ted Cruz believed even more deeply in many of those things than the man who ultimately came to defeat him and snag his party’s nomination. I’d venture that Lindsey Graham and George Pataki and Marco Rubio and Jeb Bush and Mitt Romney believe more deeply in those things than Donald Trump, too.
I find it absolutely laughable that any members of the Republican Party — and especially those figures who have come to define it — expect any of us to buy into their new shtick painting Donald Trump as “the other.” It doesn’t entirely shock me, though, that it seems to be working. Republicans sincerely want us to believe that their kinder, more benevolent racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, and classism make them better people than Donald Trump. It doesn’t. In a culture where overt bigotry has been replaced with covert bigotry, the Republican Party has allowed its members — for years and without apology — to viciously push back against the gains of the last century using that kind of covert bigotry as a shield from criticism. Of course it isn’t sexism! It’s just about abortion. Of course it isn’t racism! It’s just about sticking up for cops. Of course it isn’t xenophobia! It’s just about keeping our country safe.
It’s fine and good that Republicans are demanding that someone as overtly bigoted and straight-up callous (and inexperienced, to boot) as Trump be denied the opportunity to represent their values. But Donald Trump is hardly an outlier. Donald Trump is simply the id of the GOP; he’s simply saying out loud the subtext of every discourse they’ve created in this country in recent times. It isn’t that Donald Trump is more sexist or more greedy or more bigoted, or that the others among him in the GOP ranks aren’t those things. It’s that Donald Trump has no censor, no filter, no common sense of human dignity to keep himself from saying freely what the Republican Party has long believed: That the status quo is worth fighting for, and the women, LGBT people, and people of color it crushes in its pervasiveness simply never mattered.
Header by Rory Midhani
Last time we were all gathered here in the name of feminism, I recommended some solid memoirs and biographies to you that told the true stories of the women currently running shit in American politics and making history at every turn. But America is not the world, and as you know from our previous lessons, badass women exist in plethora outside of it. And thus, a follow-up post was born!
These are 8 memoirs, biographies, and autobiographies that tell the true stories of women who ran countries around the world — from the top. Let’s get reading! (Side Note: More women who run shit need to write memoirs and autobiographies. Come on, ladies!)
Aung San Suu Kyi is nothing less than an inspiration: A freedom fighter, a strong-willed political prisoner, and a true believer. Plus, when forces did all they could to stop her from being President of her nation, she created a special role just to make the magic happen. In this book, she describes the people who have played a part in the fight for democracy in Burma and details the tragic realities of why they’re all fighting for a better tomorrow. In the process, she makes the case for her decades-long fight to restore peace and democracy to her native land.
Benazir Bhutto’s autobiography covers everything from her family’s heritage and power to her experiences as a political prisoner and the path she took from Radcliffe and Oxford to being the Prime Minister of Pakistan. She stood tall as a woman leader in a muslim nation and rose to prominence not only on her national stage, but before the eyes of the rest of the world. I’m buying my copy of this book immediately and then thanking whatever deity you believe in that Bhutto wrote this stuff down before her tragic assassination in 2007.
Corazon Aquino was the first woman President in the Philippines, and during her time at the helm of her nation she ushered in a revolution. This book tells the story of how she rose from her husband’s shadows — and eventually became a historic figure in her own right — and covers the struggles of her first year in office.
Ellen Johnson Sirleaf didn’t just make history as the first woman president in Liberia. She made history as the first-ever woman president in all of Africa. And she did so by rising up — despite a life stained by abuse, imprisonment, and exile — to become a changemaker in an oppressive political climate. BONUS: Ellen Johnson Sirleaf is the aunt to the one and only fucking Retta. So go out and treat yoself, fool. Donna would be so proud.
In which Golda Meir, fourth woman ever to be a Prime Minister and the first and only to be PM in Israel, tells her story. Honestly, who wouldn’t wanna read about someone Wikipedia says “was often portrayed as the ‘strong-willed, straight-talking, grey-bunned grandmother of the Jewish people?'”
Gro Harlem Brundtland became the first woman and youngest-ever human being to hold the position of Prime Minister in Norway when she was appointed to the position at 41, with four kids in tow. She came to power with an activist background, including some pro-choice rabble-rousing and a childhood spent among radicals, and then went on to make history with a cabinet chock-full of women and a career that extended past politics and into leadership at the World Health Organization. In her memoir, she talks about her brushes with famous politicians from around the world and what it was like being a mom and a PM at the same time, as well as the circumstances that created her revolutionary tenure in office.
Indira Gandhi was a history-maker from a family full of them. Her father was India’s first-ever Prime Minister, and she was the first-ever and, to date, only woman to ever fill his seat. (She was also the second-longest-serving PM, after her dad, of course.) Her life in politics began during her father’s reign, and she then rose through party politics and into cabinet service and ultimately into serving as Prime Minister — and died tragically at the hands of her bodyguards while still in office. What she left behind, however, is all right here in this book: reflections on her life and her relationship with her father, passages detailing India’s rich history in the making, and even some notes from Indira about what she wishes for India’s future.
Mary Robinson is a badass, and everyone should know her story on her own terms. (She was the first women President of Ireland and also served as the UN’s High Commissioner for Human Rights, JSYK.) In a previous lesson, we talked about how she utilized her role as President in an unprecedented way to bring about change not only in Ireland, but within its government, forever changing the image and expectations for the nation’s presidents. At the UN, she went to lands no High Commissioner had traveled to and was outspoken about various issues. Now, she’s recorded for us not only the tale of how she did it, but a story about how we can all be part of revolutionary change, too — and leave our communities and our world a better place.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!
Header by Rory Midhani
I’ve spent the last few months talking to y’all about women in politics because it seems pivotal, at this precise moment in history, to examine how gender influences our political system and how women fighting to be represented within it are changing it forever. By now, you hopefully understand the ways in which sexism defines the political lives of women, how women’s leadership transforms politics, how women transform elections, and why Donald Trump is the antithesis of everything good in this world.
I’m not done exploring the intersections of political work and womanhood. But I’d like to take a step back this week and let some of the women who have straddled that line tell their own stories. That’s why I’m here to showcase, for you, ten of the American women who fundamentally altered history simply by showing up and working like hell – from Hillary Clinton herself to America’s women Supreme Court Justices and all the way through the lives of the women who serve and have served in Congress – in their own words.
Barbara Lee is a feminist powerhouse, and her story is powerful, too: A woman of color growing up in Texas finds the Black Panther Party and eventually lands herself in Congress, where she has been a relentless advocate for people of color and women and girls. Talking bluntly about the issues is Barbara’s bread and butter, and in the latest edition of her memoir includes an assesment of what’s ahead in the contemporary political landscape and how far we’ve all come in American politics since she started out.
By the time Dorothy Height arrived in Congress, she had seen and done what one could only refer to as “it all.” A civil rights veteran, she recalls in this memoir how she charted a course from the Harlem Renaissance and MLK’s March on Washington to becoming a political powerhouse standing, often alone, in her fight for racial and gender justice on the Hill.
In which Roberta Kaplan, the litigator who brought down DOMA, tells the story of how she and Edith Windsor let a spirited battle for gay marriage that will surely one day be remembered as a sea change moment in the lives of gay and bisexual people across the country under the law.
The politics of Washington, DC are intense and full of fire – and only someone hailing from the district truly knows it. In my years there, I learned not only how government functions on the national level, but also how local politics leave DC’s residents unrepresented. DC is not a state. We lack the power to authoritatively make our own laws, and we’re subject to the whims of congress. And our one member of Congress, Eleanor Holmes Norton, is a feisty firecracker who fights like hell – even though she doesn’t even hold voting power. She’s got an activist spirit, a strong inner sense of her own power, and a drive that’s made her a mainstay in the gritty, fast-paced world of DC politics. And she’s not done fighting yet. Read at your own risk of incredible inspiration.
Hard Choices is not an easy read. I mean, Hillary Clinton has literally written the book on foreign policy. It’s a complex, wonky tome detailing the minutia of Hillary Clinton’s work as Secretary of State during Obama’s first term, in which she made women’s rights a priority of U.S. foreign policy that will remain one of her most powerful legacies. It’s an insider’s look at how foreign policy can be a tool for change, as well as the complicated discussions that make the matters of that type impossible to simplify into “right” and “wrong.” What Hillary did in the State Department was work tirelessly in an attempt to make America’s image abroad — and the policies it implemented around the world — better. That’s not an easy task, but for someone as driven as she is, it’s a possible one. I’m still working on finishing this book, which comes in at 500+ pages in hardcover, but so far my favorite part is watching Hillary’s relationship with Barack Obama — a former rival — unfold across continents and the four years she spent taking the lead on his vision for America and the world.
Also, Living History was amazing. Like, if you’ve never read it, read it first. If you’ve never read it, read it now.
Before Hillary, before Condoleezza Rice, there was Madeleine Albright: The first-ever female Secretary of State, and a figurehead in the movement for women’s full political and social equality. Albright served two terms in Bill Clinton’s administration, and recounts the details in this memoir that carries us through some high-stakes political drama as well as the events in Albright’s own life that shaped her career and her methodology for approaching issues of foreign policy.
Nancy Pelosi wasn’t just the first woman to serve as Speaker of the House. She was also one of the most successful Speakers in history, certainly outshining the uncool Republican dudes who would follow her tenure and proceed to destroy our once-functioning government in the course of only a few years. And I can tell you, from personal experience, that she wears some seriously awesome suits over there on the Hill, where she’s going strong in the fight for a more progressive, inclusive America that lifts up every man, woman, child, and family unit in its borders. In this book, she calls on all of the women just like her — American women of all stripes — to rise up and fight like hell, with her guidance and inspiration lighting the way. I am also partial to including this book because I want to let you know that a letter personally addressed to me and signed by Nancy hangs over my desk. That is all. I have peaked and it’s all downhill from here.
I mean, duh. Truth Time: I was supposed to get a review copy of this book, never did, and am still suffering from how aloof and lost in the world I feel without it. There is no doubt in my mind that this is one of the best political biographies of our time, and I don’t want anyone to go through my own pain. Buy it immediately, read it voraciously, and come out of the experience ready to do as I do daily and worship at the font of Ruth.
The third woman and first Latina to grace the Supreme Court, Sonia Sotomayor’s appointment as Justice of the nation’s highest court was historic and incredibly important. In her memoir, she recounts how she rose to power out of poverty, overcame hardship on the way to making history, and fought like hell to make it to where she is.
Wendy Davis inspired us all in 2013 when she stood tall — quite literally — for abortion rights in Texas by way of a 13-hour filibuster of HB2, the bill that became law and then put Texas women in immediate crisis. Afterward, Davis went on to run for Governor in one of the only recent elections in which a Democrat had a fighting chance of moving in to the Governor’s Mansion in the Lone Star State, and although she lost it’s undeniable that she will bring her hard work and impassioned fighting spirit to many political battles in her future. From her time as daughter to a single mom to her own experience as a poor teenage mother herself, and through the halls of city councils and the Texas state Senate, Davis takes us on a wild and courageous ride through politics and self-empowerment in this book, one in which she comes out even stronger on the other side.
Rebel Girls is a column about women’s studies, the feminist movement, and the historical intersections of both of them. It’s kind of like taking a class, but better – because you don’t have to wear pants. To contact your professor privately, email carmen at autostraddle dot com. Ask questions about the lesson in the comments!