The 19th Represents
Reminder! Save your spot at The 19th Represents! We're commemorating the suffrage centennial with a weeklong virtual event. Join us Aug. 10-14 for a series of conversations with prominent women including Hillary Clinton, Stacey Abrams, Kamala Harris, Elise Stefanik, Melinda Gates, Robin DiAngelo and more. Registration is free! View the full schedule and our outstanding lineup of speakers.
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Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez speaks to the House about a Republican lawmaker's verbal assault on her. (House Television via AP)
SOMEONE'S DAUGHTER
There is no polite way to say this: On Monday Rep. Ted Yoho called Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez a “fucking bitch.”
The insult came after a brief, heated exchange on the Capitol steps between the representatives, with Yoho uttering the words, seemingly to no one, after the two parted ways. But a reporter overheard it, and soon after, Yoho’s crass coda made headlines.
The Florida congressman initially “no commented” the reported invective, but as the news circulated, Yoho took to the House floor on Wednesday to address “the strife [he] injected into the already contentious Congress.”
“I rise to apologize for the abrupt manner of the conversation I had with my colleague from New York,” he said, following with a statement that danced around the semantics. “The offensive, name-calling words attributed to me by the press were never spoken to my colleague, and if they were construed that way, I apologize for their misunderstanding,” he said. The rest of his short statement touched on his early adult years living in poverty, and ended by refusing to “apologize for my passion, or for loving my God, my family, and my country.”
By this point, Ocasio-Cortez had already addressed Yoho’s comment in a tweet, diffusing the situation with a joke — “hey, “b*tches” get stuff done”— a well-worn tactic for women wanting to move on from an indignity.
But a line in Yoho’s public remarks struck Ocasio-Cortez: “Having been married for 45 years with two daughters, I’m very cognizant of my language.” When a man makes a public, unforced error at the expense of a woman, a hackneyed tactic is to invoke their wives and sisters and daughters and mothers as evidence of seeing and appreciating the full humanity of women. On Thursday, Ocasio-Cortez took to the House floor to explain how flimsy that defense really is.
“I will not stay up late at night waiting for an apology from a man who has no remorse over calling women and using abusive language towards women,” she said. “But what I do have issue with is using women — ‘our wives and daughters’ — as shields and excuses for poor behavior.” Ocasio-Cortez went on to say she, too, was someone’s daughter, and that Yoho’s “disrespect” in national media had been seen by her own mother. “I am here because I have to show my parents that I am their daughter and that they did not raise me to accept abuse from men,” she said. “I am here to say is that this harm that Mr. Yoho levied, tried to levy against me, was not just an incident directed at me. But when you do that to any woman, what Mr. Yoho did was give permission to other men to do that to his daughters. In using that language in front of the press, he gave permission to use that language against his wife, his daughters, women in his community, and I am here to stand up to say that is not acceptable.”
In her House address, Ocasio-Cortez repeatedly said Yoho’s offensive behavior is nothing new. This is true. Nearly every woman has a story like this printed indelibly on her mind.
But there are a few new things for elected officials like Yoho to consider.
There are more women in Congress than in the body’s 231-year history. Not only have they entered the room where it happens, they burst onto the scene in full Technicolor.
There are more women filing to run for congressional office than ever before, many of them vying for a seat in the House of Representatives, a chamber led by the first-ever woman to be elected speaker.
There are numerous accusations of sexual misconduct against a sitting president, who, while in office, has publicly disparaged women. He’s been particularly belittling toward women of color, telling several minority representatives to “go back” to countries they aren’t from and saying another had “an extraordinarily low IQ.”
There are polls suggesting that white working-class women are turning away from the president because his “ego makes him impulsive and a bully” and “he doesn’t respect women.”
And there are dozens of celebrations scheduled for the centennial anniversary of women’s suffrage, when half of the voting electorate can invoke the words of one of the Republic’s daughters, suffragette Anna Julia Cooper: “When and where I enter, in the quiet undisputed dignity of my womanhood, without violence and without suing or special patronage, then and there the whole race enters with me."
— Andrea Valdez, editor in chief
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A WOMAN'S PLACE IS IN THE HOUSE
Since its creation in 1789, there have been 10,363 members who have served in the House of Representatives. Of those members, 75 of them have been women of color. The first woman of color, Patsy Takemoto Mink, an Asian Pacific Islander representing Hawaii, was elected to the House in 1965.
In 1993, Carol Moseley Braun of Illinois was the first woman of color elected to serve in the Senate. Since then, only four other women of color have been senators, all of whom are currently serving.
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A Q&A with Nell Merlino
Twenty-seven years ago, Nell Merlino devised a plan to get young girls into the workplace. In 1993, Merlino launched Take Our Daughters to Work Day to give girls a chance to see what their parents did every day, which continues to be celebrated on the fourth Thursday of every April. (Since, it’s been amended to add “and sons” to the title.)
Now, the workplace is at home for many moms, and Take Our Daughters to Work Day is playing out daily on couches and in dining rooms across America. The 19th spoke to Merlino about how coronavirus has shifted women’s work and the revival of her nonprofit, Count Me In, which supports women-owned micro-businesses.
This interview by 19th reporter Chabeli Carrazana has been edited for length and clarity.
The 19th: Put me in the moment in 1993 when you dreamed up Take Our Daughters To Work Day.
Merlino: It came to me having been at my father's retirement dinner. My father was retiring from public life, both as a member of the [New Jersey] legislature but also as a lawyer, as a policymaker. And I saw union organizers that we used to work with, they all came out — he'd been in public life for 40 years.
I went home from that dinner and wrote Take Your Daughters To Work Day because I realized at that moment how much I had learned seeing not only my father work, but also my mother. And it was powerful for me to have that realization that I was who I was because of how they operated, how they worked and what their values were.
I really thought about what would happen if every girl got a chance to appreciate what their parents do outside the house, because girls know what their mothers do in the house. We know cooking, cleaning. We have all been reminded of it during COVID-19.
It was seeing what mothers and fathers did outside of the home that was a revelation for a lot of girls. Because in 1993 it was not the norm for girls to show up at work with their parents. It just wasn't. You hid children.
1993 doesn't feel like that long ago, but it was a completely different landscape then. What were the opportunities like for young girls and women?
In the first year [of Take Our Daughters To Work Day], I got this call from a woman at the [Metropolitan Transportation Authority] in New York. She said, “Could you come and meet with our leadership? Because we have this plan, we want to make sure it's the right thing to do.” And she meets me at the door. We're walking and she's telling me she's really nervous. And I said, “Is everything OK?” And she said, “All the department heads are here. I just don't know how they're gonna treat me once they know I have three children.”
That was not something that was discussed, particularly in a male-dominated industry. I said, “Everybody's gonna know that everybody has kids.” And it was this moment of realization for her, and for me, of what part of us — I think it's less now — but what part of us gets denied when we enter a world that we did not create.
Millions of women are taking their daughters to work every day now. What do you think girls are seeing when women are bearing so much of the coronavirus-induced burden at home, between childcare responsibilities and work responsibilities? What are girls learning?
I think children on one level are thrilled to have this much time with their parents. It's a whole different rhythm. I think it is hardest on the women themselves, just in terms of the time it's taking to do everything.
I got back into the revival with Count Me In because I was approached by two Count Me In alumni, one who had a top-selling business on Amazon and another who made a crafting tool that was sold at Michaels. They had created this farm-to-table innovation collective because one has babies and was not able to find some of the foods that she used to get at her store, and she started to look into the supply chain issues. They've created a guide for restaurants to figure out how to pivot during COVID-19. We're now seeing fairly commonly the produce boxes that you can get in different places or have them delivered. I showed it to a funder … and she called me right back and said, “I'll put up $50,000 for people that are doing these pivots.” And 24 hours later she said, “It shouldn't be 50. I want to do more than 50, and it needs to be for the entire county and community.” That's where the $250,000 came from. So it was the work of these moms on, “How do I get fresh food for my family?”
So I think children are seeing amazing things their parents are doing.
Women, and particularly Black women, are really at the intersection of so many of the issues that we're facing right now. There's a growing concern that coronavirus will wipe out many of the advancements women made in the workplace right before this crisis. Do you worry about that?
I think we can stand together against it. But we have to call them out.
I believe part of what Count Me In is going to do is to draw attention to the fact that we can find a quarter million, half a million, even a million dollars to give out, there are millions of people entitled to that. As leader of Count Me In since 2000, I've never seen this many requests for applications, the entire time that we have done competitions and contests. It’s a small number because we’ve got a quarter million dollars to give away, but we had over 550 requests for applications for 19 grants. So it suggests a need. That's just a microcosm of what the experience is.
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By Errin Haines
I was probably 15 or 16 when I first read Harper Lee’s “To Kill A Mockingbird.” I may have seen the movie before then (one I have watched countless times since). The story, one of my favorites of all time, solidified Lee’s unwavering status as one of my top-five authors.
This month marks the 60th anniversary of the Pulitzer Prize-winning book. For me, the enduring appeal of “Mockingbird” lies not only in the plot or characters; the book is a mirror, a source of endless and revelatory conversation about who we are and have been as a country.
I doubt I had this understanding completely as a teenager. But what I believe I knew at some level, as a young Black woman in America who had already had her own coming-of-age experiences around race and racism, was that “Mockingbird” tells the truth about White people. It is a truth our country has chosen not to see for a long time, since before the book was published and in the six decades since. After recently rereading it, that’s still at the heart of why I love the story so much.
This anniversary coincides with a national reckoning on race that is challenging America’s long-held beliefs and long-standing institutions. The moment presents an opportunity for Americans to finally read “Mockingbird” for the story it is — not the one too many would like for it to be. To do so is to not only see the truth Lee tries to tell in its pages but to begin to understand the truth about America.
Read the full story at the Washington Post.
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What we’re reading
Curated by May Olvera
‘We saw this problem coming’: Lauren Underwood, the youngest Black woman to ever serve in Congress, on remote legislating during a pandemic. When much of the country was forced to abruptly transition to working from home, so did Congress. Rep. Lauren Underwood shares how the pandemic has changed legislators’ jobs, as well as her belief that women are a key part of economic recovery. (The Cut, July 21)
Natalie Portman and Serena Williams' daughter among new NWSL team owners. With interest in women’s soccer continuing to surge, the National Women’s Soccer League is expanding to Los Angeles in 2022. The new team will be co-owned by an impressive roster of women, including sports superstars Mia Hamm and Serena Williams — and Williams’ two-year-old daughter. (The Guardian, July 21)
The magic of Black girls’ play. Black girls’ musical play is more than just double-dutch and lively rhymes; it’s an act of joyful resistance that teaches young Black girls how to work together and love their Blackness. (New York Times, July 21)
Families of children with special needs are suing in several states. Here's why. Remote learning has taken a toll on children with special needs. Parents in more than 20 states are filing lawsuits arguing that the Department of Education’s lack of accommodations has denied them appropriate public education. (NPR, July 23)
Planned Parenthood to remove Margaret Sanger’s name from N.Y. clinic over views on eugenics. Planned Parenthood founder Margaret Sanger had a complicated history: She was a trailblazer for reproductive rights, but also a supporter of the eugenics movement. The organization’s New York chapter is reckoning with this history by removing her name from their clinic. (Washington Post, July 21)
🎧 Listen: The class of RBG. Slate spent a year tracking down the nine women who studied alongside Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg in Harvard Law’s class of 1959. In the first episode of this two-part podcast, Dahlia Lithwick interviews two of Ginsburg’s classmates — and the notorious trailblazer herself — about their days at Harvard. Each of the nine women’s stories can be found here. (Amicus via Slate, July 21)
📺 Watch: Black physicians make a plea to America. Physicians swear an oath to treat all patients to the best of their ability, no matter their race. A group of over 1,200 physicians of color, all mothers, ask Americans to do better by their Black children the way physicians do right by White patients. (Vice, July 17)
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