Ms. James, who defeated three rivals, is the first black woman to win a major statewide party nomination. She is favored to win in November.
I feel bad for them. Do they feel bad for women?
From New Haven to Senegal and Shanghai, female architects — many running their own firms — are invigorating the design of buildings and cities.
In a new poll, girls say they feel empowered, except when it comes to being judged on how they look. Boys still feel they have to be strong, athletic and stoic.
In the year since a New York Times expose effectively ended Harvey Weinstein’s career, the #MeToo movement has succeeded in creating a groundswell of energy to hold men like him accountable for sexual misconduct—one that has rewritten the rules in workplaces across the country, and especially in the mainstream media.
Over 40 years after Ms. put sexual harassment on the cover, the subject has become a dominant force in the headlines, and Weinstein has found himself in the company of many more major Hollywood players whose careers have been cancelled in the wake of allegations of assault and harassment. But the depths of media sexism go even beyond the ways in which men leverage their power for sexual exploitation.
Take, for instance, Les Moonves. The now-disgraced former chairman at CBS who has been accused of sexual assault and harassment by a half-dozen women—behavior that undoubtedly forced women out of the industry, and rewrote the trajectories of their careers and their lives.
Moonves wasn’t just a boss who leveraged his power to justify his bad behavior. He was a cultural gatekeeper. And in a scathing new essay by Designing Women creator Linda Bloodworth Thomason published by The Hollywood Reporter, the hit-maker reveals the ways in which his sexism shaped the media landscape.
“In spite of my proper Southern mother’s admonition to always be gracious, I am all out of grace when it comes to Mr. Moonves,” Thomason declares at the outset of her piece. “In fact, like a lot of women in Hollywood, I am happy to dance on his professional grave.”
Thomason wasn’t harassed or assaulted by Moonves, but she does describe in vivid detail how it came to be that he single-handedly killed her popular series—and attempted to end the careers of women like her across the network.
In 1992, I was given the largest writing and producing contract in the history of CBS. It was for $50 million, involving five new series with hefty penalties for each pilot not picked up.
Designing Women was my flagship CBS show, and Evening Shade had just been lauded as the best new comedy of the season. CBS chairman Howard Stringer and president Jeff Sagansky attended many of the Designing Women tapings, reveling in the show, quoting the lines and giving us carte blanche to tackle any subject, including sexual harassment, domestic violence and pornography. They even greenlighted an entire episode satirizing Clarence Thomas’ Supreme Court nomination. It was, to say the least, exhilarating. Little did I know that it would soon all be over.
By 1995, Mr. Stringer and Mr. Sagansky were gone and a new, unknown (to me) president named Les Moonves had taken over. By then, I was producing a new pilot, prophetically titled Fully Clothed Non-Dancing Women. I was immediately concerned when I heard that Mr. Moonves was rumored to be a big fan of topless bars. Then, someone delivered the news that he especially hated Designing Women and their loud-mouthed speeches. He showed up at the first table read and took a chair directly across from mine (actress Illeana Douglas, who later accused him of sexual harassment, sat next to me). Having been voted most popular in high school, I felt confident that I would be able to charm him. I was wrong. He sat and stared at me throughout the entire reading with eyes that were stunningly cold, as in, “You are so dead.” I had not experienced such a menacing look since Charles Manson tried to stare me down on a daily basis when I was a young reporter covering that trial. As soon as the pilot was completed, Moonves informed me that it would not be picked up. I was at the pinnacle of my career. I would not work again for seven years.
Moonves’ sexism shaped the entire office environment at CBS, from the ways in which actors were treated to which photographs of television icons hung on the walls. His decisions about casting and production also created a filter that determined what viewers consumed—and thus, shaped their ideas about gender and the culture-at-large.
Moonves was a misogynist on a mission, and in many ways during his tenure he succeeded in cutting down the power women had in television and the spaces they occupied on-screen. If predators like him continue to fall in the midst of the #MeToo movement, the impact could reverberate far beyond a shift in workplace politics. Without misogynists at the reigns, we might finally find ourselves in a media landscape that reflects women’s authentic voices—and a culture that’s ready and willing to listen to them.
You can read Thomason’s full essay at The Hollywood Reporter.
Carmen Rios is the Digital Editor at Ms., where she oversees all online content and hosts the Ms. LIVE Q&A video series. Carmen’s work has also appeared at outlets like BuzzFeed, Bitch, Mic and MEL; and she is a former Everyday Feminism contributor and served as community director and feminism editor at Autostraddle for over five years. Most recently, she co-founded Argot Magazine with her friends; she also once had a podcast. You can follow her on Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr.
The post Les Moonves, Linda Bloodworth Thomason and Media Misogyny Beyond #MeToo appeared first on Ms. Magazine Blog.
“Poetry is coming out of our radio in our car. Poetry is coming out in conversation, in our slang, and our colloquial dialects,” Jessica Helen Lopez said as the featured poet on the New Mexico PBS show ¡COLORES!, a weekly art series for which she is now a host. In her life and work, Lopez reveals how poetry, language and identity are intimately connected—not a braid that can be unbraided.
“I always wear my identities quite brazenly and with as much pride and/or exploration that I can pursue within my writing as a woman of color, as a Chicana, as a feminist,” she noted on ¡COLORES!, “and I often identify as a ‘radical feminist’ but sometimes just saying you’re a feminist is radical enough in a room. It’s dropping the f-bomb, literally.”
Lopez is the founder of La Palabra: The Word is a Woman, a collective created for and by women, and a member of the Macondo Foundation, an association founded by Sandra Cisneros for socially-engaged master’s level writers working to advance creativity, foster generosity and serve community. Her first collection of poetry, Always Messing with Them Boys (West End Press, 2011), made the Southwest Book of the Year reading list and received the Zia Book Award presented by New Mexico Press Women; her second, Cunt. Bomb., was published by Swimming with Elephants Publication in 2014, and her third, The Language of Bleeding: Poems for the International Poetry Festival, Nicaragua (SWEP) is a limited release in honor of her ambassadorial visit to Granada, Nicaragua.
Lopez is a nationally recognized slam poet and was the 2012 and 2014 Women of the World City of ABQ Champion and the Albuquerque Poet Laureate Emeritus and Poet-In-Residence for the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History from 2014-16.
More recently, she also served as co-(f)emcee for the 2017 Santa Fe Women’s March on Washington. While speaking and performing a poem on that cold day, her passionate, riveting voice appears to transfix her boisterous audience. Watching her makes me wish she’d run for public office. We’ll elect actors and reality TV stars—it’s time to elect poets!
In this installment of Ms. Muse, Lopez shares a new poem—and talks to Ms. about jumping out of the shower to write, writing as reclamation and thriving between languages.
I Have Many Names / Tengo Muchos Nombres
You may call me Malinche, goddess of grass
of the kidnapped clan
Rosetta Stone tongue
of glassy, rain-soaked, imperial jade,
trade with the white-skinned transgressor,
You may call me
flesh over the forged heat of Spanish, Dutch, and French blade.
The Mulatto/the Mestiza/Africana,
raped daughters of the Doctrine
You may call me the descendent
of the deceased.
The disappeared. The Pillaged.
The blood-quantum, kick-back treaty fed by the belly-fat
of land-grant lies.
I have many names,
thousands years’ old names.
Ancient, mighty names.
Today you may call me
seven generations missing from my grandmother
Tonatzin. Malinalli. Tlatzoteotl. Ometeol
I am the blood-lineage, sacrificial ancestor,
progeny of the gone-missing women.
Call me Maquiladora, flower of the factories
Woman of Juarez
twice-bit and betrayed
by my own kin and the foreign rapist
You may call me rage.
Tengo muchos nombres
You may call me soldadera, matriarch of the Mexicana Revolution.
I was never anyone’s lover,
no Pancho Villa bed warmer.
Bullets and braids, hands thick like the skin of tamal.
This is what you may call me.
No yo soy Joaquin.
You may call me Llorrona, shape-shifter, picket-line provocateur.
Brown beret, skin-walker,
woman of the field.
Hands of callus,
picker of fresa, chile, cebolla and the grape on the vine.
We the legions of farm workers bent at the spine,
fingers deep into the dark earth.
Today they call me wet nurse,
wetback, paid under-the-table
breast milk by proxy.
But I birth me
in the shape of me—
obsidian, flint and fired stone.
I am the bloodletting and the baptismal.
I have many names—
But you may invoke me as brown-skinned Puta
spelled with an X like the Mexica.
My ancestors run wild in my blood—
my mixed, colonized and triumphant blood.
You may call me double-tongued and code-switcher,
river crosser, water diviner,
border dweller and burnt sage.
You know me as #metoo,
the bridged hair of Frida’s brow—
snapped spinal column survivor.
The late-night mariachi howl. Eater of filth.
You may call me Pocha, Jota, Bruja and lit-from-within.
My name an anglicized
A deloused campesino
somewhere in the middle of Indio,
California—fruit basket of the world.
you may invoke me
with Dolores, Lorna, Sandra, Maria, Josefina, Gloria, Diana the Huntress,
Emma Gonzalez and Alicia Garza
Lorde, writer and patron saint who watches over us all
You may call me
with no regrets.
I am the Keeper of the Dead
Tengo muchos nombres
You may call me Thought Woman, carrier of stories,
jeweled egg of a diaphanous web.
My children spring forth from me, silver-headed
and spindle-soft, ready to re-create the world.
Seventh generation rising.
I am un mal flora,
the bad flower who grew despite
to re-name that
which is nameless.
 “The first Ancient Egyptian bilingual text recovered in modern times.” (Wikipedia)
 “In 1452, Pope Nicholas V issued to King Alfonso V of Portugal the bull Romanus Pontifex, declaring war against all non-Christians throughout the world, and specifically sanctioning and promoting the conquest, colonization, and exploitation of non-Christian nations and their territories.” (Source.)
 “Hundreds of young women have disappeared from the Mexican border city since 1993—many of them teenagers who came to Juarez to work in the town’s foreign-owned factories, known as “maquilladoras.” (Source.)
 No, I am Joaquin.
 bitch, whore, slut, hooker, prostitute, tart, tramp, hustler, dyke. (translated with Google.)
 Translated from “Chola Chingona.” Latinas/Chicanas use the “X” as reclamation (as in Chicanx or Latinx). Brenda Gonzales-Richards, director of the California regional office for the National Council of La Raza, a Latino civil rights group, says “Chingona” means “Badass…someone who is not afraid to stand up for what they believe in, somebody that’s happy to shake things up when needed. Chingonas, she says, get things done.”
 “In linguistics, code-switching occurs when a speaker alternates between two or more languages, or language varieties, in the context of a single conversation.” (Wikipedia)
 “A term used by Mexicans (frequently pejoratively) to describe Chicanos and those who have left Mexico. Stereotypically, Pochos speak English and lack fluency in Spanish.” (Wikipedia)
 A derogative word for “gay” that is being reclaimed.
 peasant farmer
Can you tell me about your process in writing “I Have Many Names / Tengo Muchos Nombres“? What do you remember about the poem’s birth? Were there particular challenges in writing and revising?
Don’t laugh. But I was in the shower and washing my hair. I had been feeling the itch to write a new poem and had been recently inspired by some of the most Xingona local poets here in Albuquerque, especially Mercedez Holtry, Women of the World Poetry ABQ Champ and national finalist, and Eva Marisol Crespin, author of Morena, Swimming with Elephants Publication. I jumped out of the shower, still slick with soap and hurried to my journal. There I wrote some of the first lines of “I Have Many Names.”
I like to experiment with different aesthetics in my poetry. For some time I was enamored with persona pieces. Oftentimes I write confessionally, other times about current and relevant topics of struggles that POC [people of color] and Native people continuously battle. This time around, I sought to write a celebratory but truthful experience of Woman.
Later that night, I sat with the poem and wrote it in under an hour. Usually, I edit by performing my pieces. I read it the very next week at an International Women’s Day poetry reading at the National Hispanic Cultural Center. Since, I’ve performed it a variety of spaces, including the UNM Chicanx Studies Department’s “Pachanga” fundraisers, a local favorite artisan showcase, “I’ll Drink to That” and more.
What childhood experiences with language informed your relationship with poetry?
I am a Pocha. I do not speak Spanish fluently. My mother’s first tongue was Spanish. As a child, she was punished—sometimes physically, mostly shamed—in school for speaking Spanish. By the time she birthed me and my brothers, she thought it best not to speak to us in Spanish. She wanted us to succeed in the Anglo world.
I don’t blame her. She was doing what she thought best for us. To this day I speak in “Spanglish.” But I also incorporate Indigenous words such as Nahuatl (Aztec) into my writing. I have a long way to go in achieving the fluency I would like in both of these tongues. I am quite aware that Spanish is the colonizer’s language, but it is inherent in my rich identity formation as Chicanx.
I also am quite comfortable in code-switching my “street language” with the idea of “academic speak.” I grew up with a rich colloquialism of “Chola” verbiage and double negatives. I know when I say, “ain’t no thang but a chicken wang, que no (not)” in a collegiate environment that I am enacting a deliberate revolution. I can also get down with a mean academic syntax. Mostly, it was hip-hop, rap and jazz that contributed to my love of language. That, and being poor.
A library card goes a long way in freeing a young person’s mind. I could travel anywhere by reading a book. Storytelling and fiction were my first loves.
Do you seek out poetry by women and non-binary writers? If so, since when and why? More specifically, how has the work of feminist poets mattered in your childhood and/or your life as an adult?
When I was a college freshman at New Mexico State University—I did not graduate from there, rather dropped out, twice—I “saved” a copy of Sandra Cisneros’ Loose Woman from being thrown away. Someone was moving out of the dorm and handed me a box of random items such as half-burnt candles, tampons and books. I had never heard of Sandra Cisnero, much less her widely-acclaimed and radical collection of Chicana feminist poetry. I sat with that book as the sun went down. I read it from cover to cover and was changed forever.
I did not know that women writers like Cisneros existed. I went on to discover the works of Anna Castillo, Gloria Anzaldua, Cherie Morraga, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, Lucille Clifton and other amazing WOC [women of color] writers. But my high school classrooms never offered them. And my college language arts courses never included them.
When I first read Sandra Cisneros’ “You Bring out the Mexican in Me,” all of the synaptic cells in my brain fired at the same time. She taught me how to write like a Xingona. These days I am enamored by poets such as Siarra Freeman, Danez Smith, Rachel Camacho McKibbens, Jenn Givhan, Sharon Olds, Juan Felipe-Herrera, Fatima Asghar, Denise Frohman, Joy Harjo and others. As a spoken word artist—I have been slamming since 2005—there is no differentiation between “page” and “stage” poets. And some of the best rappers, singers, songwriters—like Kendric Lamar, Ice Cube and Lila Downs—are favorite poets.
What groundbreaking or ancient works, forms, ideas and issues in poetry today interest and/or concern you?
Slam poetry or spoken word is poetry for the gente (people). It is a democratization of verse. No longer do poets need to be canonized, white, cis, male or dead to achieve acclaim. Raul Salinas, the late great Xicanindio poeta said, “poesia esta en la calle” (poetry is on the street). Joy Harjo wrote: “The poetry ancestors scattered to all parts of the world. Each family of trees, animals, wind, stones needed a poet.”
Poetry is medicine, and everyone can access this form of healing.
As a woman, and as a woman who writes, what do you need to support your work? What opportunities, support, policies, and actions can/could make a direct difference for you—and for other women & women writers you know?
Honestly? I need time, resources and money. It’s a luxury to write. It’s a luxury I cultivate. I must cultivate the craft of writing while also balancing four jobs—yes, I have four jobs—parenting and activism and community organizing.
It’s hard. It’s emotional work. It’s healing and necessary but also taxing. We need more funding for the arts, for art-based grants, for residencies for women, women of color, queer writers. I am a teacher and I am constantly scraping the bottom of the barrel for opportunities for my student writers—but also time and resources so that I, too, can carry on as a writer.
What are your four other jobs? What is the activism and community organizing that you do?
I have worked at the Native American Community Academy Inspired Schools Network (NISN) for several years. For a while I was a guest artist, then a sixth-grade teacher at NACA for a couple of years teaching Indigenous History, Philosophy and Thought—humanities. I also taught a poetry elective at the middle school and now teach a dual enrollment class for the NACA High School; dual enrollment means that students are also earning collegiate credit.
The work I do with NISN is centered in reforming education and helping to start Indigenous community-based schools. We have schools in New Mexico—Pueblos such as Santa Domingo and Navajo, etcetera—South Dakota, Oklahoma, others just starting out in Denver and even along the U.S./Mexico border. I also work for the University of New Mexico Chicanx Studies Department and the Institute of American Indian arts as an instructor. Recently, I was hired to host the long-running ¡COLORES! show that highlights artists and leaders in the Southwest.
As an activist, I work to create awareness around issues such as immigration justice, intersectional feminism and youth advocacy.
What’s next? What upcoming plans or projects excite you?
I am honored to coach and mentor an Indigenous youth poetry collective, RezSpit, comprised of woke young Native women and queer writers. I teach college poetry classes through the lens of critically analyzing and responding to issues around race, class and gender and sexual orientation. I continue my work as an instructor at the University of New Mexico Chicana and Chicano Studies Department.
I was the City of Albuquerque Poet Laureate, and that has opened doors for me to continue my work as a feminist Chicanx writer. I’ll be the (f)emcee of our upcoming TEDx in Albuquerque, a speaker for a domestic violence conference and featured poet for a reframing of the epic Chicanx poem, “Yo Soy Joaquin,” that reclaims the presence of mujeres (women) in the long history of Mexican/Mexian-American resistance. I work with Native American Community Academy and continuously learn from our Indigenous relatives of Indian Country/Turtle Island.
What do you rarely get asked?
Do I write in other genres? (Yes. I have a love for non-fiction, fiction, screenwriting, essays and blogs.) Also, no one ever asks me how I identify. (I’ve come out of the closet. It was latent. But here I am, bisexual and proud.)
When did you come out?
I came out in slow increments. Mostly through my poetry and then conversations with family and friends. I wish I would have sooner but the powers that be—oppression and shame—kept me from admitting that I was bisexual, even though I had known this most of my life. I just don’t give a shit anymore about others’ judgements. I have a lot of queer friends and allies. It’s refreshing. I’m married to a cis man, and this confuses people sometimes, but my woke friends aren’t bothered. I can be queer and be in love with a male partner.
Are there other questions you would like to be asked? Something else you want to talk about?
The legacy I will leave to my daughter, who is now 16 years old and on the cusp of adulthood, is that I hope she breaks all the rules, just as I attempt to do through my writing. I want her to read my work when I am long gone and know that I loved her fiercely, though not perfectly, and that made my love for her authentic and true. I want her to know she has a ferociously loyal mother, but that I am also an erratic soul who did her best to pass along the survival skills my daughter needs to be healthy and happy.
Mostly, though, I want her to be free of any expectations of how she should live her life. I want her to experience the true honey of freedom.
She is the best poem I have ever writ.
Chivas Sandage is a digital columnist at Ms. and the author of Hidden Drive, a finalist for the 2012 ForeWord Book of the Year Awards in poetry. Her poems and essays are forthcoming or have appeared in Ms., The Rumpus, Salmagundi, Southern Humanities Review and Texas Observer, among others. She is at work on a nonfiction book about the double shooting of a lesbian teenage couple in Texas. Tweet her @ChivasSandage.
The post Ms. Muse: Jessica Helen Lopez on Writing like a Xingona, Poetry as Medicine and the True Honey of Freedom appeared first on Ms. Magazine Blog.
Michelle Bachelet—the boundary-breaking former president of Chile, under-secretary general of the United Nations and executive director of UN Women—is now stepping into a new role in the world of global politics as the UN’s high commissioner for human rights.
As the world’s highest human rights officer, Bachelet will oversee the global body’s work on a range of critical issues—including the persecutions of religious minorities and LGBTQ individuals in the Middle East and North Africa, crackdowns on human rights in Venezuela and widespread violence and injustice in Latin America. She comes to the role at a critical time: Bachelet is assuming the office, previously held by Jordanian prince Zeid Ra’ad al-Hussein, during what UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres called “a time of grave consequence for human rights.”
“Hatred and inequality are on the rise,” Guterres noted in July, during a speech giving approval for Bachelet’s appointment to the post. “Respect for international humanitarian and human rights law is on the decline. Space for civil society is shrinking. Press freedoms are under pressure.”
Guterres and al-Hussein alike, however, have both expressed optimism that Bachelet, a fearless and outspoken leader for global human rights, is ready for the task at hand. al-Hussein left Bachelet with one piece of simple advice when she assumed her new post: “just come out swinging.” She already has.
In her first speech as human rights chief, Bachelet called for the creation of a new mechanism to examine and prepare indictments for the crimes committed in Myanmar against the Rohingya people, which includes systematic and widespread sexual violence. Such a mechanism already exists for the crisis in Syria to examine the cross-border deportation of thousands of minority citizens, which Bachelet supported.
Bachelet’s statement comes amidst widespread outcry from advocates urging the UN to take more action on behalf of Rohingya women and girls, and signals her uniquely feminist leadership style. Her resume alone qualifies her for this new post, but her remarkable personal story and her passion for fighting for women and girls will undoubtedly shape her tenure.
In 1973, a military coup left General Augusto Pinochet in power in Chile. In the following years, Bachelet, who was studying medicine at the time at the University of Chile, was imprisoned for her membership in the Socialist Party, which opposed Pinochet’s dictatorship. Her parents were also arrested: her father was tortured and killed; she and her mother were tortured and survived. Bachelet does not go greatly into detail about what she faced in prison, only stating that she endured “physical hardships,” but after her release she spent years in exile.
Bachelet returned to Chile in 1979 and dedicated herself to policy and advocacy. While Pinochet was still in power, she went through training to be a mental health professional and aided torture victims of Pinochet’s military; after her return, she was named the first defense minister in Latin America by Chile’s then-president Ricardo Lagos. She assumed his post in 2006—becoming the first popularly-elected female president in South America and the first woman ever elected president in Chile after a political campaign that centered on defending and expanding the rights of indigenous people, women and the country’s working class.
In 2010, Bachelet completed her term and left office in order to serve as the first executive director of UN Women—helping to launch the then-$10 million agency which incorporated the UN’s Division for the Advancement of Women, the Office of the Special Adviser on Gender Issues and Advancement of Women, the International Research and Training Institute for the Advancement of Women and the United Nations Development Fund for Women. In 2014, she resigned to pursue another term as president in Chile—and won.
Now, Bachelet once again returns to the global stage—with her head held high and her determination clear. “Those who defend human rights and the victims look up to the High Commission and hope that we are there to defend and support them,” she said in her introductory speech as the world’s foremost authority on human rights. “And I’ll do everything on my side to make sure we do so.”
Rosalind Jones is a writer and global feminist thinker with a focus on international women’s liberation. Her goal is to use her writing and language skills to elevate the voices of gender equality advocates in all corners of the world. She is an Occidental College graduate with a degree Diplomacy and World Affairs and a former Ms. editorial intern.
The post Chilean Feminist Politician Michelle Bachelet Assumes Post as UN Human Rights Chief appeared first on Ms. Magazine Blog.
Judge Brett Kavanaugh’s nomination to the Supreme Court leaves much hanging in the balance.
Should Kavanaugh be confirmed, the rights of women, people of color, LGBT people and other marginalized communities could be impacted, and the ideological identity of the Court could be shifted for generations to come. His nomination also re-affirms President Trump’s promise to only consider nominees for the nation’s highest bench who would overturn Roe v. Wade, the landmark 1973 decision legalizing abortion nationwide. If confirmed, Kavanaugh would be the fifth vote on the court needed to reverse the decision. Without Roe, women in nearly half the country could lose abortion access overnight, and the door would be open for states to further restrict access and criminalize patients, providers and clinic staff.
In a new video produced by Center for American Progress, in partnership with our publisher, Feminist Majority Foundation, women from across the country are testifying to show what’s at stake should Kavanaugh be confirmed, telling their own stories of the debilitating barriers that people face when trying to access abortion care and what it was like before abortion care was legal.
We launched our Daring to Remember series after Kavanaugh’s nomination in an effort to make clear how critical abortion access was—and how serious a threat a Court opposed to Roe was to women’s lives. In the weeks since his nomination, we collected and shared stories of women’s lives before Roe and in the years since, as attacks on clinics and patients and attempts to chip away at access have denied its full promise.
The stories our community entrusted to us were heartbreaking and devastating. We cannot and must not go back to a time when women attempted abortions via wire hangers, knitting needles and vitamin overdoses; faced abuse and assault at the hands of back-alley abortionists; crossed borders alone to regain control of their destinies; risked and lost their lives in pursuit of autonomy.
There is no single state where abortion does not have the support of a majority of voters. Across the country, Americans believe that Roe is a fundamental piece of our national fabric, and that it should remain so.
There is no more critical time to remind your lawmakers that you are part of that majority. Call your Senators at (202) 224-3121 and urge them to reject Kavanaugh’s nomination.
Carmen Rios is the Digital Editor at Ms. and Contributing Editor and Co-Founder of Argot Magazine; her work has also appeared at BuzzFeed, Bitch, Mic, MEL, Everyday Feminism and Autostraddle, where she was previously Community Director and Feminism Editor. Like everyone else in LA, she once had a podcast; unlike everyone else, she stays pretty zen in traffic. You can find her on Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr.
The post WATCH: These Abortion Stories Show What’s at Stake with Kavanaugh’s Nomination appeared first on Ms. Magazine Blog.
If you’re one of the many of us who love bagging a great bargain, you’ll be delighted to hear all about Lidl’s brand new hair-care line.
This is sure to prove popular…
The post Lidl launches new haircare range and it’s just like John Frieda – at a fraction of the cost appeared first on woman&home.
Downton Abbey fans were left jumping for joy recently after producers confirmed that the hugely successful TV series is finally being made into a film.
The film was confirmed after years of speculation…
The post Matthew Goode shares very exciting Downton Abbey film update appeared first on woman&home.