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Feminism

Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Ungrown

The cataracts give her an otherworldly countenance, like a blind prophet who gazes more easily into the past than into the present. She is otherworldly, because she isn’t a part of this time where I dwell — not fully. She floats closer to us and then away again before we can grasp her.

By Sarah Broussard Weaver August 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

May You Bury Me

In three years, I thought, Lia’s chin would reach my crown. Or my crown would touch her chin? At some point the height order reverses itself, and then they leave you. Or you are overtaken by someone’s respiratory droplets in the produce section and you leave first.

By Kate Vieira July 2021
Quotations

Sunbeams

There had been an outbreak of assaults on women at night. One [cabinet] minister suggested a curfew: women should stay home after dark. I said, “But it’s the men who are attacking the women. If there’s to be a curfew, let the men stay home, not the women.”

Golda Meir, former prime minister of Israel

September 2020
The Sun Interview

We Will Be Seen

Tressie McMillan Cottom On Confronting Racism, Sexism, And Classism

We are more comfortable in our culture talking about the distant past. We love black history; it’s black people we don’t like.

By Mark Leviton February 2020
The Dog-Eared Page

excerpted from The Diary Of A Young Girl

One good thing has come out of this: as the food gets worse and the decrees more severe, the acts of sabotage against the authorities are increasing.

By Anne Frank June 2019
Readers Write

Equality

Bowing to men, kissing in public, crossing the border

By Our Readers April 2019
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

The Feminist Club

We experience two kinds of violence: the violence done to us by others, and the violence we do to ourselves. The latter hurts more, because it’s of our own making.

By Maggie Cheatham June 2018
Fiction

Kids Today

Just one time I had done something nice. Just one time I had left some forlorn teenage girls an offering of chocolate and words, and suddenly I was the local pedophile. I hadn’t left them Fifty Shades of Grey.

By Lucie Britsch May 2018