She is Fierce: The feminist movement must move forward with its inclusivity


My toes went numb as I stood in a sea of activists holding “Women’s Rights Are Human Rights” and “Respect My Existence or Expect Resistence” posters at the third annual Women’s March in Washington D.C. in 2020, but the cold didn’t bother me as I listened to speakers shout for climate change reform, sexual assault prevention and pro-choice policies.

It was the same energy surge I felt (albeit not as chilly) while marching through downtown Los Angeles the year before, and while the annual protests have lost momentum and attendance numbers since the first one following President Donald Trump’s inauguration in January 2017, looking out at the thousands who did show up gave me power.

Small cities in my area had their own versions of the Women’s March, and I know there are folks in my small Pennsylvania town who believe in the same policies, practices and ideas that I do. But on the one occasion in high school when I explained my pro-choice rights stance to my American history class during a presentation about the sexual revolution, another student texted me later to let me know that he and his friends spent their lunch period discussing how stupid I sounded. 

I kept myself out of any policy debates from that point forward, but when I saw women flood the streets around the world in 2017 to mark one of the largest single-day protests in U.S. history, I couldn’t wait to head to L.A. or Washington D.C. and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with people who felt empowered to shout the beliefs I held inside. 

In these past few weeks of social distancing, I’ve been reminiscing on moments like those and thinking about the women who paved the path for me to live at a time surrounded by so many female activists, policymakers, doctors, business executives and innovators who inspire me to become a better advocate for myself and others.

In 1833, Oberlin College was the first higher education institution to open its doors to men and women, and today, women comprise 56% of all college students. It has been 100 years since women in the U.S. gained the right to vote through the 19th Amendment thanks to suffragettes such as Ida B. Wells and Susan B. Anthony, and it has been 50 years since the Food and Drug Administration approved a pill commissioned by Margaret Sanger that allowed women to decide when they had children. 

Lawmakers and the Supreme Court made decisions in that timeline that declared women had the constitutional right to an abortion and deserved to be paid the same as men for working similar jobs. Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, astronaut Sally Ride, former U.S. Attorney General Janet Reno, former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, former Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton and many other women became the first to hold titles previously claimed by men. 

But there’s still so much advocacy that needs to be done. The right to a safe abortion is constantly threatened through harsher state laws and court decisions, including recent measures in states deeming abortions elective, and therefore not necessary, during the coronavirus pandemic. 

Nationwide paid family leave policies should be passed to equalize caregiving responsibilities between both parents and allow men and women equal footing in the workplace. The Violence Against Women Act, which expired in February 2019, must be reenacted to improve responses to domestic violence, a crime that has risen worldwide since people were forced to quarantine inside unsafe homes. 

We must also learn from the mistakes of the activists before us, who fought movements that excluded underrepresented groups. While mainly revered as crusaders for women’s rights, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton and other white suffragettes opened their movement to Black men and women until there were talks of a 15th Amendment, which guaranteed Black men the right to vote. Stanton and other suffragettes, quickly forgetting that abolitionists such as Frederick Douglass helped them grow their movement, opposed the amendment, claiming that granting Black men voting rights first would degrade white women’s social standing. 

Today, white feminism and the divides it creates within the movement still hinder progress. Rachel Cargle, an activist and academic, wrote in Harper’s Bazaar that when she tried to rally feminist activists to get more media attention and questioning when a white man murdered a young Black woman unprovoked, she said she was met with defensiveness from white feminists who listed off other things they had done to help Black people. 

I also learned not too long after leaving the Washington D.C. Women’s March that organizers from Black Lives Matter chapters in L.A., Washington D.C., Houston and Chicago said they were excluded from the event in their cities despite being major community activists who have spoken to the needs of Black men and women in their cities. 

It seems impossible to just stand for women’s rights and not take into account or try to educate oneself on the needs of other underrepresented groups and make sure activists who identify with those groups have a seat at the table. 

While events like the Women’s March marked major milestones for activists around the world and helped young women like me find a voice within the movement, it’s also important to call others out (no matter how powerful or popular they are) when their feminism excludes certain people. If this divide between toxic white feminists — even those who claim to hold intersectional views — persists, the progress we so desperately need to give women and other underrepresented groups will never come to fruition. 

Andrea Klick is a sophomore writing about women’s identities. Her column, “She is Fierce,” runs every other Monday.