In “A Room of One’s Own,” Virginia Woolf famously posited “that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.” Many women writers throughout history have adopted male pseudonyms to preserve their privacy, maintain a distance between their fictional and non-fictional writings, or evade some of the prejudicial criticisms reserved for women authors.

1. George Sand (Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil)

Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil was born on July 1, 1804. She published 70 novels and over 50 volumes of other writings under the pseudonym George Sand before her death in 1876. Her prolific output was matched by her popularity. She was more celebrated in Britain than famous male French writers, such as Victor Hugo and Honoré de Balzac.

In 1831, when she was still an unknown writer, she chose the pseudonym George Sand to improve her chances of success, over the French version Georges. In the 19th century, when French women were required to apply for a permit to wear male clothing, Sand chose to wear male clothing without such a permit. Moreover, she habitually smoked tobacco in public, something not even a permit could excuse in 19th-century France. Victor Hugo famously remarked on her uniquely dual nature, writing in her funeral panegyric that she had “the heart of a man and the mind of an angel.”

A noted member of the Romantic movement in literature, Sand’s writing often rails against the confines that matrimony places on women. She championed women’s causes throughout her life. Though married to François Casimir Dudevant, she had relationships with many men of note (including writers Jules Sandeau and Prosper Mérimée, politician Louis Blanc, and, perhaps most famously, composer Frédéric Chopin) as well as at least one lesbian love affair with the actress Marie Dorval.

2. George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)

Mary Ann Evans was born in Nuneaton, Warwickshire, England, at South Farm on the Arbury Hall estate (which her father managed) on November 22, 1819. She became a novelist after publishing her essay-turned-manifesto “Silly Novels by Lady Novelists,” in which she criticized the triviality of contemporary women’s fiction. Under the pseudonym “George Eliot,” she wrote her novels in the realist tradition emerging in Europe, eschewing the lighter, romantic subject matter of many other women writers at the time.

From an early age, she demonstrated a keen intelligence. Her father, believing that she was no great beauty and therefore would not make an advantageous marriage, allowed her an education, not typically afforded women at the time. She boarded at various schools between the ages of five and sixteen. She was also permitted to read from the library of Arbury Hall, which she did voraciously.

At the age of sixteen, her mother died. Five years later, she and her father moved to Coventry. Here, she was exposed to radical, free-thinking societies and published an English translation of Strauss’s “Das Leben Jesu kritisch bearbeitet (The Life of Jesus, Critically Examined),” in which Strauss argued that the miracles recorded in the New Testament should be considered as mythical rather than factual.

Following her father’s death in 1849, she moved to London. She became the assistant editor (editor in all but name) of the left-wing Westminster Review. In 1851, she met the philosopher and critic George Henry Lewes. He was unable to obtain a divorce, but she and Lewes lived together from 1854 and considered themselves married to each other.

3. 4. & 5. The Brontë Sisters (Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë)

Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë are world-famous novelists in their own right today. But during their lives, they published under the pseudonyms of Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell.

Growing up in an isolated parsonage in Haworth, West Yorkshire, the Brontë sisters received relatively little formal education aside from short stints at the Clergy Daughters’ School at Cowan Bridge for Charlotte and Emily, Miss Wooler’s School at Roe Head for all three, and the Pensionnat Héger for Charlotte and Emily. Their father, however, educated them in subjects such as history and languages, allowing them to read from his library.

After discovering some of Emily’s poems in 1845, Charlotte convinced her sisters to produce a joint collection of their poetry. In 1846, their collection was published under their male pseudonyms, selling only three copies.

Despite this, Emily was busy writing “Wuthering Heights,” Charlotte was working on “The Professor,” and Anne was channeling her struggles as a governess into “Agnes Grey.” After only Emily and Anne’s novels were accepted for publication, Charlotte began work on “Jane Eyre,” and all three novels were published in 1847 under their pseudonyms.

The name Brontë was also something of an invention on the part of Patrick, their father. Derived from the Irish clan Ó Pronntaigh, the surname was typically anglicized as Prunty or Brunty. Patrick, an Irishman then studying at Cambridge University, may have wished to distance himself from his Irish surname. He may have done so in honor of Admiral Horatio Nelson, Duke of Bronte, though he may also have wished to avoid association with his brother, William, who was a wanted man following his association with the United Irishmen movement.

6. James Tiptree Jr. (Alice Bradley Sheldon)

Born Alice Hastings Bradley, Sheldon came from a family of intellectuals. Following the breakdown of her first marriage, she joined the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps as a supply officer. She then joined the United States Air Force, earning the rank of major. In 1945, while on assignment in Paris, she married Huntington D. Sheldon. One year later, she was discharged from the military. Her first story, “The Lucky Ones,” was published in The New Yorker under the name Alice Bradley.

After a brief stint in the CIA, she returned to academia, earning her PhD from George Washington University. During this period, she began to publish science fiction short stories under the name James Tiptree Jr. Critic Robert Silverberg said he discerned “something ineluctably masculine about Tiptree’s writing,” and compared her to Ernest Hemingway. When her identity was revealed in 1977, it shocked the science fiction community

7. Andre Norton (Alice Mary Norton)

Alice Mary Norton was born in Cleveland, Ohio, on February 17, 1912. In the wake of the Depression, she dropped out of Flora Stone Mather College of Western Reserve University in 1932. She began working for the Cleveland Library System, where she remained for the next 18 years.

In 1934, she published her first novel, “The Prince Commands, being sundry adventures of Michael Karl, sometime crown prince & pretender to the throne of Morvania,” and legally changed her name to Andre Alice Norton. It was only in 1958, however, after publishing 21 novels, that she was able to become a full-time writer. She published 130 novels and numerous short stories over the course of her career.

8. Vernon Lee (Violet Paget)

Vernon Lee was the nom de plume of the writer Violet Paget, though she also went by her adopted name in her personal life. Best remembered for her works of supernatural fiction and aesthetic theory. She was also a feminist, pacifist, musician, and an early disciple of Walter Pater. Like George Sand, she also dressed in typically male clothing—à la garçonne. Though she resisted the term lesbian, she had long-term relationships with women, including fellow writers Mary Robinson, Clementina “Kit” Anstruther-Thomson, and Amy Levy.

Lee wrote primarily for an English-speaking readership, but she was born in France and spent most of her life in continental Europe. Though she traveled widely, she favored Italy and spent her longest stretch just outside Florence. She drew on her travels to pen myriad essays on her experiences in Italy, France, Switzerland, and Germany. Unlike most travel writers, however, she sought to delineate her own subjective experience of a place and the psychological impacts it had on her personally.

In collaboration with Kit Anstruther-Thomson, she pioneered her own version of “psychological aesthetics.” She connected aesthetics to such “bodily reactions” as “eye movements, pulse and heartbeat, [and] muscle tension. Her pacifism and open disapproval of the First World War meant that her work was sidelined. She fell into obscurity before feminist scholars revived her work in the 1990s.

Select Bibliography

Colby, V. (2003). Vernon Lee: A Literary Biography (Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press)

Ingham, P. (2008). The Brontës (Oxford: Oxford University Press).

The star of one of the most dramatic captivity stories to come out of the Wild West era, Olive Oatman led a life of tragedy, trauma, and sensationalism. She was a wonder, a curiosity, captivating audiences with her experiences and marked facial tattoos. Over time and retelling, Oatman’s story became veiled in mystery, narratives conflicting and contributing to the building of stereotypes—intentionally or otherwise. When looked at through a modern lens, Oatman’s life offers new perspectives to historians. It is a tale of sadness and resilience.

A Mormon Upbringing

Little is known about Olive Ann Oatman’s early personal life. She was the daughter of Mary Ann and Roys (also spelled Royse, Royce, or Rois in historical references). She had seven siblings, and her mother was pregnant when the family’s life drastically changed in 1851.

Olive was born in September of 1837, and when she was just two, her parents rejected their Methodist traditions in order to join the Mormon church. They were followers of Mormon founder Joseph Smith, but after his death in 1844, they rebuffed new church leadership. Hoping to join an offshoot of the church led by James Brewster on the border of what is now Arizona and California, the Oatman family joined a wagon train of fellow “Brewsterites” to head west from their home in Illinois.

The Oatman Massacre

Unfortunately, Roys Oatman found that he didn’t see eye to eye with his traveling companions. Quarrels led to the Oatman family’s separation from the rest of the Brewsterite wagon train, leaving them to face the risks of westward travel alone. A major concern was attacks from hostile Indigenous tribes, an ongoing threat to emigrants moving through the area. However, they were reassured by passing travelers that the road was clear along the Gila River. The Oatmans found that this was not the case. They soon encountered a group of about 19 Native Americans. Some sources identify them as Apache, but it is believed that the men hailed from the Western Yavapai tribe. Not only did tensions exist as a result of the influx of white settlers into the area, but the area had been suffering from drought conditions and a resultant famine.

The hungry Yavapai sought food from the Oatmans, and Roys offered them some bread. However, he refused to provide any more food, angering their visitors. Chaos ensued, and at the end of the skirmish, Roys and pregnant Mary Ann Oatman lay dead, along with four of their children. Olive’s brother, Lorenzo, was knocked unconscious and assumed dead. 13-year-old Olive and her eight-year-old sister, Mary Ann, were not killed, but taken hostage. The band of Yavapai looted the family’s wagon and returned to their mountain village with the two captives.

When Lorenzo regained consciousness, he found himself alone, surrounded by his dead and mutilated parents and siblings. He began making a slow journey back to the rest of the Brewsterite wagon train, which was about 50 miles away. He was found by two men who helped him complete the journey back to the rest of the group. With reinforcements, he returned to the site of what became known as the Oatman Massacre, where they interred the family and built a cairn. No one knew what had become of Olive and Mary Ann, but a terrible fate was assumed.

The girls were forced to walk to their new home over the next few days, sans shoes, over about 60 miles. Olive feared the threatening nature of their captors, and worried for her younger sister, who was in a state of shock and beaten when she refused to walk. The girls were turned into slaves and for the next year they foraged for food, lugged water, collected firewood, and completed other tasks for their captors. Beatings were a common occurrence.

Life Among the Mojave

Olive and Mary Ann had no way of knowing that their lives were about to change drastically once again. A group of Mojave visited the Yavapai village where they were held on a trading stop. After some debate, the Mojave were able to purchase the two girls for two horses, blankets, vegetables, and beads. Olive and Mary Ann had no idea if life with their new captors would be worse than their current situation, or if there was hope for the future. The group traveled quickly, and the girls struggled on their journey back to the Mojave village. However, when this was observed, foot coverings were made for Olive and Mary Ann, and the trip slowed. This was just the first example of the improved treatment Olive and her sister would receive at the hands of their new masters. Rather than being treated as slaves, the girls were adopted into the tribe as family members, cared for and fed. They received blue facial tattoos that the tribe believed granted access to the afterlife. They learned the Mojave language and adopted tribal customs and dress. Sadly, Mary Ann died, along with several Mojave, during a drought that affected the region in 1855.

Rumors began to spread about the presence of a white woman among the Mojave, and Olive’s legend grew along with the concern that people would come looking for her. The Mojave willingly released the 19-year-old in 1856. Olive was brought to Fort Yuma, where she was soon reunited with her brother, Lorenzo. Lorenzo had been continuously making efforts to locate his sisters in the time since the attack, even undertaking scouting missions on his own.

Culture Shock

Olive’s return to white society was anything but discreet. She lived in California, then Oregon, where she attracted whispers about her time among the “Indians.” Returning to her previous life required Olive to re-learn a great deal, such as expectations of dress, behavior, and coming back to the English language. It was not an easy transition for her and she missed her Mojave family.

She and Lorenzo met Royal Byron Stratton, an author and minister. Stratton wrote a book about Olive’s experiences that received rave reviews. However, when it was published in 1857, the book was sensationalized and contained numerous erroneous facts. Still, Olive hesitated to correct the errors, and the book propelled her to further fame. She joined the lecture circuit and moved to New York.

While lecturing in Michigan, Olive met John Fairchild, a cattleman who connected with her and seemed to understand her tumultuous feelings about her experiences. The pair married in 1865. After the marriage, Olive stopped lecturing, and she and her husband made efforts to locate and destroy as many copies of Stratton’s book as possible.

Though the book had made her famous, Olive was at odds with the inaccuracies within and her time in the spotlight as a result. In 1872, the couple moved to Texas, where they adopted a baby girl, Mary Elizabeth. Olive was welcomed into her new community, but she continued to struggle with her past trauma. She made efforts to cover her tattoos while in public and received psychiatric treatment, likely for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and depression. Olive Oatman Fairchild passed away as the result of a heart attack at age 65. She is buried with her husband, who died four years later, in Sherman, Texas.

Oatman in the Media

Olive Oatman has been portrayed in books and film on numerous occasions. Stratton’s book, Captivity of the Oatman Girls, included a great deal of misinformation, twisting Olive’s own words and blurring the lines between truth and fiction. More modern novels have followed, attempting to define these differences and incorporate new information that has since arisen. Oatman has been portrayed on television, with a character loosely based on her, down to the iconic facial tattoo, played by Robin McLeavy in AMC’s 2011-2016 series Hell on Wheels.

Olive Oatman’s life was one experienced through the lens of multiple cultures. The trauma she endured in her early life stayed with her, even as she returned to American society and tried to make a new start. Olive’s attempts to live a normal life were never completely successful as she was haunted by the emotions and memories of a tumultuous past. She lost pieces of herself as others made attempts to tell her story, and encouraged her to support the narrative. Lost in the sensationalism of the day and traumatized by her experiences, it is unknown whether Olive ever found the peace she yearned for.

Jacqueline Bouvier “Jackie” Kennedy became the First Lady of the United States at age 31, following the election of her husband, John F. Kennedy, to the presidency in 1960.

Jackie was known for her ambassadorship and activism, but also for her sense of fashion. She created many of the quintessential ‘60s looks, and remains one of America’s greatest style icons.

Fashion and Social Change in the 1960s

The 1960s revolutionized fashion by making clothes more available to the general public through affordable synthetic materials like polyester, which was a movement celebrated by young people. Cheaper, easier-to-care-for materials meant clothes could be worn without ironing, and they were more accessible to lower-income youths and adults. The rise of feminism and LGBT activism, as well as the influence of black women standing alongside the Black Power movement, created new styles that were both fashionable and powerful political statements, including women’s pants, shorter skirts, and natural afro hair.

Fashion also became more globalized, especially as French designers like Yves Saint Laurent and Givenchy exploded onto the market. These designers produced styles more aligned with the couture movement of the 1940s and 1950s, with boxy silhouettes and two-piece skirt sets. Looks such as these were popular with more conservatively dressed, higher-income women, although there were plenty of revolutionary ideas around these styles.

Yves Saint Laurent introduced the first tuxedo for women in 1966, a gender-defying style that was not initially well received. However, a later SAINT LAURENT rive gauche (sic.) version, which was released in 1968, proved to be a massive success with the youth population. Since then, women’s suits and tuxedos have gained mainstream popularity, worn by celebrities like Janelle Monáe and Ellen DeGeneres.

Trends of the 1960s did not live and die in that decade alone; the lasting influence of ‘60s fashion continues today in the form of leopard prints, knee-high boots, and pantsuits. Additionally, some of the most famous ‘60s design houses, like Chanel and Balenciaga, continue to dominate the modern fashion world. With retro and vintage fashion still holding strong in the 2020s, it’s clear that the revolutions of the ‘60s will continue to influence fashion in the future.

Jackie Kennedy Before the White House

Jackie Kennedy, then Jackie Bouvier, was born in Southampton, New York, to John and Janet Bouvier. Growing up, Jackie was an equestrian, like her mother, and had won several championships by the age of 11. She was a bright student, but notoriously troublesome; at one point, the headmistress of her school made a note on her report card saying: “Jacqueline was given a D in Form because her disturbing conduct in her geography class made it necessary to exclude her from the room.”

As a teenager, Jackie studied French and began taking ballet lessons at the former Metropolitan Opera House. She pursued her love for the arts at university when she enrolled in Vassar College in New York, where she furthered her proficiency in French and studied other arts and humanities. Jackie then spent a semester abroad in Paris during her junior year, about which she said, “I loved it more than any year of my life… I came home glad to start in here again but with a love for Europe that I am afraid will never leave me,” —something that almost certainly inspired her iconic fashion sense.

In the fall of 1951, Jackie took a job as an “Inquiring Camera Girl” for the Washington Times-Herald, snapping pictures and interviewing people on the street, including future president Richard Nixon. It was during this time that she was invited to a dinner party by Martha Bartlett, the wife of her coworker Charles Bartlett. It was at this dinner party that she met her future husband, a Massachusetts congressman and the “most eligible bachelor in town,” John F. Kennedy. When the pair married two years later, Martha was one of Jackie’s twelve bridesmaids, and Charles served as an usher. After her husband’s assassination, she moved to her mansion in Georgetown.

Jackie’s Iconic Fashion Sense

Paris was one of the world’s biggest fashion hubs during the ‘60s, and Jackie’s year abroad was most certainly one of the most influential factors in her style. Shorter shorts and skirts were coming into fashion alongside the rise of the two-piece suit, and the First Lady was certainly up-to-date with the trend.

No discussion about Jackie’s fashion sense can leave out one of her most memorable looks: the pillbox hat. First seen at her husband’s inauguration in 1961, the pillbox hat stood out over a sea of fur caps on a freezing cold January day. Although the hat was originally shaped to be a perfect dome for Mrs. Kennedy by designer Roy Halston Frowick, the wind on the inauguration day caused her to reach up and hold the hat steady, creating a subtle dent in the top. Ironically, the dent itself became popular in the style, and Halson later made the joke that “everybody who copied it put a dent in it.”

Jackie’s other iconic—and later infamous—look was her two-piece suits. Often unfitted and boxy in silhouette, her suits reflected the more conservative, wealthy fashion of the time. Jackie had private relationships with many designers, including Lily Pulitzer and Oleg Cassini (who created more than 300 looks for her and was dubbed her “Secretary of Style”). Many of her suits were colorful, like her ruby red look, or the canary yellow suit she wore to a children’s hospital in Colombia. Both of these looks were designed by Cassini. Bright colors like yellow, red, and, of course, pink, were staples in Jackie’s wardrobe.

Luxurious Gowns

Some would argue that Jackie’s casual outfits pale in comparison to her gowns. After the death of President Kennedy, many of Jackie’s popular looks of the late ‘60s were long coats and floor-length gowns; mature looks that reflected a drastic change in her life. Usually paired with white gloves and fashionable purses, Jackie was as well-known for her formal elegance as she was for her chic, colorful daytime looks.

Many of her gowns featured boatnecks or were otherwise strapless, another iconic look that became popular with her influence. Her famous wedding dress when she married John F. Kennedy also featured this neckline, a silk and taffeta creation by black fashion designer Ann Lowe. Lowe’s work was uncredited at the time; she recreated the intricate dress only ten days after her atelier was flooded, ruining the gown, as well as fifteen bridesmaid dresses, which she was also able to remake. The designer’s skill has since been recognized, and Lowe stands as one of the most influential black designers in history.

When the French Minister of Culture, Andre Malraux, and his wife visited the White House in 1962, Jackie welcomed them with a classic piece of French fashion. Her light pink Christian Dior gown, designed by Guy Douvier, was made of a fabric called “silk-dupioni shantung,” a stiffer alternative to silk that allowed the gown to take its formal silhouette. The gown itself is currently housed at the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum in Boston. It was worn only one other time, at a dinner for the president hosted by Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the Shah of Iran.

The Chanel Suit

Most recognizable among the First Lady’s outfits is her watermelon-pink Chanel suit, which she wore on November 22, 1963, while in the motorcade alongside President Kennedy. Many Americans can easily identify the blood-spattered jacket, which Jackie refused to change out of. Although she was offered a clean set of clothes upon boarding Air Force One, she turned them down. According to a journalist present at the time, she wanted to keep the suit on to “let them see what they have done.” She continued to wear it while aboard Air Force One, including for the swearing-in of President Lyndon B. Johnson, which took place only hours after Kennedy’s death.

The suit itself was actually a copy of the original Chanel piece. Chanel granted Park Avenue fashion house Chez Ninon permission to recreate the original piece with their materials, qualifying it as technically “American made.” The wool suit was a vibrant shade of pink, which many Americans did not know—the video and photos of the assassination were only available in black and white. The ensemble was also reportedly a favorite of President Kennedy’s, and it was he who supposedly requested her to wear that specifically for the motorcade on the day of the assassination.

Jackie never had the suit cleaned. Although most of her outfit was preserved, her iconic pillbox hat and bloodstained white gloves are still missing, most likely sold to a private collector. The suit, stockings, shoes, bag, and navy blouse are currently in the National Archives, where they are stored in a temperature-controlled vault. The Los Angeles Times reported that “the temperature [inside the vault] hovers between 65 and 68 degrees, the humidity is 40%, the air is changed six times an hour.” The suit isn’t on display to the public, however. At the request of her family, Jackie’s most famous outfit will remain in the archives until 2103, 140 years after her husband’s assassination.

Jackie’s Influence

Although she frequently discouraged media attention to her looks, Jackie couldn’t escape the attention that her bold, foreign-inspired ensembles brought. Jackie’s outfits were so wildly popular with the American public that it was inevitable that they would influence fashion for decades to come. Pictures of her are instantly recognizable by her boxy silhouettes and perfectly-styled hair, or by the matching outfits worn by her children, a trend that became popular soon after their photos appeared.

Among her most visible surviving trends are oversized sunglasses, which are a staple look in much of today’s fashion, and her many fashionable coats. Her black and leopard-print look from LaGuardia airport in 1962, exemplified her coat collection. Although leopard print was popularized by a number of channels, the First Lady appearing in the coat given to her by Oleg Cassini certainly helped to set off the trend. It became so popular that more than 250,000 leopards were killed to keep up with the consumer demand. This craze led to leopards being placed on the endangered species list, and the importation of their pelts was banned.

This is just one example of the massive impact Jackie’s choices had on the American public. As First Lady, Mrs. Kennedy was one of the most visible women in the country, if not the world, and her fashion choices made her an icon.

Women’s fight for human rights and equality has significantly progressed in recent years. Some brave women and organizations are changing the course of history by ensuring women are politically engaged, educated, and have access to all the opportunities that will make them financially and physically independent. These goals are accomplished through women’s empowerment and breaking gender barriers and stereotypes. Women’s empowerment is a multidimensional concept that can only be achieved systematically and inclusively. Read on to discover more about what women’s empowerment really is.

What Are the Main Aspects of Women’s Empowerment?

Women’s empowerment is crucial and is discussed in various fields and dimensions of scholarly and political work. The main aspects of women’s empowerment are social, economic, political, and psychological. All of these aspects are equally important, and by working on and implementing measures regarding them, we are building a fairer world where women participate at every level of society.

Social empowerment is about eliminating discrimination and ensuring that all women enjoy fundamental human rights, such as the right to education, healthcare, and safety. Reproductive rights are a big part of healthcare access since women’s right to bodily autonomy is essential and under attack worldwide. Making decisions about one’s body and healthcare is integral to the fight for equality and empowerment.

Another important aspect of women’s empowerment is economic empowerment, which is related to equal pay and employment opportunities. Because of centuries-long oppression, women often face wage gaps and lack leadership opportunities. Part of women’s empowerment is making policies regarding equal pay and preventing gender discrimination. Access to financial and business education and opportunities is crucial in the fight to become independent and close the gender gap economically.

Political empowerment also ensures women’s participation in political processes and representation. As recently as the 19th century, women started gaining basic political rights such as voting, the right to run for political office, and the right to advocate for political and activist causes that would protect and better their lives.

The path to securing political rights was long and arduous. Women like Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797) were instrumental in the fight for equal rights. In the 18th century, Wollstonecraft’s call for women’s access to education and financial independence greatly influenced the later suffrage and feminist movements.

The suffrage movement advocated for women’s rights in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Through the movement, women gained some political rights and became more involved in policymaking. One of the most significant female voices in the movement was Susan B. Anthony. Together with her fellow activists, she greatly contributed to passing the 19th Amendment in the US in 1920, granting women the right to vote. In Great Britain, Emmeline Pankhurst, a leading figure in the suffragette movement, was influential in granting women the right to vote in 1918 and 1928.

An equally important aspect of women’s empowerment is psychological. It is based on personal development and overcoming gender norms and expectations. Gender discrimination, sexism, and misogyny can have severe psychological consequences. Thus, mental health and self-empowerment are essential tools in the fight for gender equality.

The Role of Education in Women’s Empowerment

Education is vital in the fight for women’s empowerment and gender equality, as it has a crucial role in empowering women to become economically independent, get higher-paid jobs, and become involved in entrepreneurial endeavors. According to various studies, higher-educated women earn more and have more opportunities in different business and economic sectors.

Getting an education empowers women to become more financially independent and helps them thrive in various societal aspects. Additionally, education improves women’s overall health, as educated women are more likely to seek healthcare and care about nutrition and family planning. Being able to afford education, plan for the future, and have access to better, more nutritious food is a big part of women’s empowerment.

Political involvement and civic engagement are closely related to education. According to the Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU), an international organization of national parliaments, higher educational and literacy rates are connected to female representation in politics. Education has proven to be significant in terms of voting and political engagement, encouraging a greater number of women to take political roles and participate in policymaking.

Another study similarly shows that women with higher education are more open to challenging existing discriminatory systems, leveling the field, and promoting policies regarding female employment. In countries with high female education, women are more likely to take roles in political and governmental leadership.

Although it is evident that education benefits women’s empowerment, women often face challenges. Some of those difficulties relate to poverty and the cost of education, books, and tuition. Other obstacles include sexism in some regions of the world, where women’s education is not prioritized or even allowed.

The importance of education for women’s empowerment can be seen through the work of Pakistani activist Malala Yousafzai, the 2014 Nobel Peace Prize winner. As a child, Malala was attacked for pursuing education and activism and survived an assassination attempt by the Taliban. That made her a symbol of perseverance and female empowerment. Malala is one of the founders of the Malala Fund, which aims to support and bring attention to the importance of the education of young women worldwide.

The Importance of Political Engagement

Getting politically engaged is one of the most essential parts of women’s empowerment. One of the main aspects of human rights and democracy is political participation and the right to be a part of political decision-making.

According to the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights from 1948, all people, regardless of gender, should be granted access to political life and everything that comes with it: voting, running for office, and governing. In most countries, women started gaining political rights only a century ago. Even though women’s political positions and leadership are better than 50 years ago, they are still not equal to men. According to the Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU), in 2024, the worldwide percentage of women in national parliaments is only 26%.

Women in political leadership positions allow women’s voices and demands to be heard. By actively engaging in political actions and decision-making, women advocate for anti-discriminatory laws, healthcare, childcare, and equal pay policies. Simply having women in political roles benefits everyone and generally makes the world more progressive and inclusive.

Unfortunately, in some parts of the world, women are not part of political decision-making and have a low or zero part in policy making. Women’s fight for equality and fundamental human rights (such as the right to be politically included) is far from over. Women are still encountering sexism and gender-based biases such as discrimination and misogyny. These kinds of discriminatory occurrences are limiting women’s participation in politics and political engagement.

Continuous Fight for Equality and Empowerment

Even though women’s positions in the world are improving, according to studies and findings of the United Nations (UN), the World Economic Forum (WEF), the World Bank, and scholarly work, women still face barriers and discrimination. Those barriers are regarding opportunities, whether in economic or political fields. The gender pay gap, stereotypes, and violence are still present in almost every part of the world, somewhere more, somewhere less.

In recent years, more women have started pursuing higher education and careers, which is leveling the field regarding gender equality. However, women still do most of the “unpaid” work, such as housekeeping, caregiving, child care, and managing family affairs. This takes a mental and physical toll and directly affects women’s job opportunities and performance at work.

Gender stereotypes, expectations, and norms are still present regarding women’s involvement at home. Women are expected to have a family, career, and social life while caring for their children and partners. Nevertheless, women are increasingly breaking these traditional roles, showing the world that they no longer accept this state of affairs and can be more than mothers and homemakers.

Having men as allies who understand the importance of women’s empowerment and taking responsibility is extremely important in women’s continuing fight for equality. Realizing that feminism is not a war on men but a battle for equal rights and opportunities is the first step in the right direction. International organizations that promote education and activist programs provide information to millions of girls and women worldwide, ensuring they understand that they are capable of anything and everything.

Best Women’s Empowerment Quotes

Some truly inspiring and brilliant women shared their thoughts regarding women’s empowerment and brought new ways of understanding women’s fight for equality and a brighter tomorrow. These are some of the most inspiring women empowerment quotas.

“There is no limit to what we, as women, can accomplish,” Michelle Obama, former first lady.

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent,” Eleanor Roosevelt, former first lady.

“I raise up my voice- not so that I can shout, but so that those without a voice can be heard,” Malala Yousafzai, Nobel Prize-winning activist.

“Women belong in all places where decisions are being made,” Ruth Bader Ginsburg, late United States Supreme Court Justice.

“Well-behaved women seldom make history,” Laurel Thacher Ulrich, historian.

“Women are the largest untapped reservoir of talent in the world,” Hillary Clinton, former first lady and United States Secretary of State.

“Woman with a voice is, by definition, a strong woman,” Melinda Gates, American philanthropist and former multimedia developer.

“If you want something said, ask a man; if you want something done, ask a woman,” Margaret Thatcher, late former British Prime Minister.

“Women, like men, should try to do the impossible. And when they fail, their failure should be a challenge to others,” Amelia Earhart, late American aviator.

“I am grateful to be a woman. I must have done something great in another life,” Maya Angelou, the late poet and civil rights advocate.

“We realize the importance of our voice only when we are silenced,” Malala Yousafzai, a Nobel Prize-winning activist.

“If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair,” Shirley Chisholm, late American politician and the first black woman to be elected to the United States Congress.

If you’ve ever heard of in vitro fertilization (the process of moving a fertilized egg outside the body to a mother’s womb), you probably know the names Robert Edwards and Patrick Steptoe—the doctor and scientist duo credited with the first “test tube baby” live birth. Yet, there was a third professional in the room, one without whom the entire field of reproductive medicine might have stalled before it ever began. Her name was Jean Purdy, and while the men won prizes and entries in history books, she was the one running the lab, managing the data, and making sure the microscopic miracles actually happened (and sometimes providing the calming voice when those two men’s two big personalities came into conflict).

Who Was Jean Purdy? The Woman Behind the Science

Jean Purdy was born in Cambridge in 1945, the second child and only daughter of George and Gladys Purdy and a member in a solidly middle class family. Her father worked as a technician in the University of Cambridge’s Chemistry Department. While he wasn’t a professor, he was immersed in an environment of inquiry and discovery. Maybe that rubbed off on Jean; she was destined to become a key figure in one of the most groundbreaking medical advancements of the 20th century.

At school, Jean was diligent, well-liked, and multi-talented, if quiet. She played violin in the orchestra, joined sports teams, and served as a prefect—a sign that even as a teenager, she had a natural scholarly air about her. Her final school report praised her “pleasant personality and ability to get on with other people,” making it clear that whatever she pursued, she’d do it with warmth and intelligence.

She trained as a nurse at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge and later worked at Southampton’s Chest Hospital. Her tenure there ended because she was homesick, so she took the opportunity to move back and take up a position at Papworth Hospital. There she assisted in Britain’s pioneering heart transplant program. In 1968, she made an unexpected pivot in her specialty that would forever change her career trajectory. At just 23 years old, she applied for a research assistant position with Cambridge physiologist Robert Edwards. She had no formal lab experience, but what she lacked in technical training, she made up for in sharpness, adaptability, and an inexhaustible work ethic.

Jean quickly became the nerve center of the IVF project. She managed the lab, meticulously recorded data, prepped culture media (the very liquid that would allow sperm and egg to meet and stay viable outside a living body), and reassured nervous patients. She wasn’t just a partner researcher—she was the kind of person who made people feel at ease. Patients described her as “incredible” at keeping them relaxed during a process that was experimental, stressful, and, more often than not, heartbreaking.

Colleagues noted her wit, her warmth, and her ability to keep spirits high even when the research hit inevitable but disappointing roadblocks. One rumor even suggests that when Edwards nearly gave up on IVF research for a political career, it was Jean who convinced him to stay in the lab. Whether or not that’s true, what’s undeniable is that without her, the first baby born from medically assisted conception might never have been.

The State of Fertility Treatments Before IVF

By the time Jean Purdy joined Robert Edwards in 1968, fertility research was a field riddled with both scientific hurdles and ethical landmines. Doctors had been experimenting with ways to help infertile couples conceive for over a century, but the results were largely inconsistent, controversial, and sometimes downright deceptive.

The first recorded case of artificial insemination took place in 1884, when a Philadelphia doctor secretly inseminated a woman with sperm from a medical student voted “best looking” in his class. Neither she nor her husband were informed until years later, which was ethically questionable at best and manipulative and unscrupulous at worst. Throughout the early 20th century, researchers explored the role of hormones in fertility, and by the 1950s, scientists had begun experimenting with fertilizing human eggs outside the body. But the path to IVF was anything but a straightforward ride.

In 1965, Baltimore doctor Howard Jones worked with Robert Edwards to fertilize a human egg in vitro for the first time. By 1968, Edwards had teamed up with Patrick Steptoe in England to refine laparoscopic techniques for retrieving eggs, leading to the first documented fertilization of a human egg outside the body. However, their success only led them to discover the next seemingly insurmountable hurdle in the IVF process. They couldn’t get an embryo to implant. Seven long years later, when they finally achieved pregnancy, it ended in an ectopic implantation—a devastating failure that almost derailed the project entirely.

Meanwhile, fertility treatments outside of IVF were making modest progress; modest but necessary. Doctors had discovered that a regular menstrual cycle was a good predictor of ovulation, leading to the development of Clomid, a drug still used today to stimulate egg production. However, inconsistent release of eggs wasn’t the only reason for couples to struggle to conceive. Women with blocked fallopian tubes—like Lesley Brown, the future mother of the first IVF baby—were stuck with no real options.

When Edwards, Steptoe, and Purdy finally succeeded in achieving a full-term IVF pregnancy in 1978, the world reacted with a mix of awe, relief, and full-blown panic. Religious leaders condemned the procedure as outside of the Holy law, governments debated banning it, and some medical professionals dismissed it as a bizarre experiment that would never be accepted by the masses as a legitimate way to expand families.

What they didn’t know was that the success of IVF was just the beginning—and Jean Purdy was at the center of it all. They also didn’t know yet just how many people experienced the heartache of wanting children that, without IVF, they would never have, and how willing those people were to try just about anything, no matter the opprobrium cast their way, to get them.

The Death and Memorial of Jean Purdy

Tragically, Jean Purdy never lived to see the full impact of her work. She died on March 16, 1985, before her 40th birthday from malignant melanoma, a cruel and premature end for a woman who had helped bring over 500 IVF babies into the world. As her health declined, she remained dedicated to her work, with a special room arranged for her at Bourn Hall—the world’s first IVF clinic, which she played a pivotal role in establishing—so she could still be part of the team.

Despite her central role in the success of IVF, Purdy’s contributions were largely overlooked for decades. While her colleagues, Robert Edwards and Patrick Steptoe, were publicly celebrated, she was often left out of the historical record. Even Edwards himself, on the 20th anniversary of that first live birth made possible from IVF, felt the need to set the record straight. He said frankly, “There were three original pioneers in IVF, not just two.”

Purdy was laid to rest in Grantchester churchyard, near Cambridge, beside her mother and grandmother. For years, her grave bore no mention of her groundbreaking work. It wasn’t until 2018—more than three decades after her passing—that she received the recognition that had been curiously withheld.

That year, Louise Brown herself, the world’s first IVF baby, unveiled a new headstone honoring Purdy’s role in assisted conception’s development. Brown spoke about how her mother had always regarded Purdy as an “unsung hero,” someone whose kindness and determination had helped make having a child despite her condition a reality.

Mrs. Brown wasn’t the only one who remembered her that way. Grace Macdonald, mother of Alastair Macdonald—the first IVF baby boy—recalled how Purdy had been a source of constant support. In a graveside testament, Grace shared that she felt she had a special connection to Jean, who encouraged her and helped her stay hopeful during the long IVF process.

In addition to her memorial in Grantchester, Purdy’s legacy has been further honored with a blue plaque installed at the site in Greater Manchester where she, Edwards, and Steptoe had their first lab space. The Society of Biology placed the plaque at Dr. Kershaw’s Hospice in Oldham to memorialize where their groundbreaking work took place decades before.

Purdy’s contributions extended far beyond her presence in the lab. She co-authored 26 academic papers on IVF between 1970 and 1985 (that’s right, 26 papers in the span of only 15 years), and she was the first person in the world to recognize and describe the formation of the early human blastocyst—a key moment in embryonic development that laid the foundation for future advancements in reproductive medicine.

Though history may have taken its time in acknowledging Jean Purdy’s vital role in IVF, the millions of families made possible by her work are a lasting testament to her brilliance, perseverance, and compassion. And everyday there are more—around half a million babies each year come to be because of assisted reproductive technologies.

How Jean Paved the Way

When Jean Purdy first used a microscope and realized she was watching the formation of the human blastocyst, she likely could not have imagined the world she was helping to create. Blastocysts are the step after the single-celled zygote that comes to be when sperm meets egg.

Today, more than eight million babies have been born through in vitro fertilization (IVF), a treatment that has transformed countless lives. What started as a groundbreaking, yet controversial, experiment in the 1970s is now a well-established medical technology offered in fertility clinics and paid for by insurance or countries themselves around the world. France and Belgium lead the way in this regard, footing the bill for four to six cycles of IVF per attempted pregnancy.

IVF didn’t just change the way families are formed and countries are populated—it also reshaped laws, ethics, and medical education itself. In the early days, there were no legal or ethical guidelines for assisted reproductive technologies, and many viewed IVF as a sort of clinical wild west. Some religious groups opposed it, and even the British medical establishment was aloof, waiting to see if the tide of popular opinion would turn. The National Health Service (NHS) refused to fund IVF treatments in the beginning, forcing Purdy and her colleagues to establish Bourn Hall, the world’s first fertility clinic, in 1980. Today, Bourn Hall is one of over 3,000 fertility clinics worldwide, and the UK’s Human Fertilization and Embryology Authority (HFEA) regulates assisted reproductive technologies to ensure the ethical and lawful treatment of patients.

Despite Purdy’s role in discovery and experimentation, she was first and foremost a nurse. She helped set the standards for what it meant to be a fertility nurse, paving the way for others to enter the field—including Muriel Harris, a powerhouse in her own right. As superintendent of two large hospital campuses, Harris played a pivotal role in the early IVF trials. She arranged for her staff to assist with egg retrieval procedures and even organized a team of volunteer nurses to support the research. When essential medical equipment was needed, she was often the one to procure it.

Like Purdy, Harris wasn’t content to stop at one groundbreaking achievement. She was one of the first nurses who stepped up to help establish Bourn Hall, and then she took to the skies—literally—earning her private pilot’s license and continuing to fly planes until she was 80 years old. She, unlike Jean, would have years to discover just how much their initial work in the field of IVF mattered.

Thanks to pioneers like Purdy and Harris, fertility nursing has become a specialized field with thousands of educated and caring professionals worldwide. Modern fertility nurses do far more than assist in medical procedures—they are the guiding hands and steady voices for both women and couples navigating one of the most emotionally charged medical journeys. Their main responsibilities include: monitoring patients’ treatment cycles; answering questions and providing emotional support; setting up treatment protocols; coordinating care between doctors, lab technicians, and patients; and assisting with medication approvals and insurance coverage. In short, they are the active lifeblood of IVF clinics, helping to make what once seemed impossible a reality for families across the globe.

Jean Purdy may not have lived to see the full impact of her work, but her influence is there in the everyday acts of specialty nurses. The field she helped establish now supports hundreds of thousands of families each year, with laws, clinics, and medical professionals dedicated to making IVF more accessible and successful.

The best tribute to Jean Purdy isn’t in memorial plaques or headstones—though she certainly earned those honors—it is in the millions of children who exist because of her work, the families that IVF made possible, and the generations of fertility nurses who now walk the path she laid brick by stubborn brick.

Women were technically barred from the front lines of WWII but that did not stop them from finding ways to support the Allied cause. Operating in the shadows, these famous female spies used their skills, courage, and the very stereotypes against them to build networks, gather intelligence, and challenge the enemy in ways both sanctioned and otherwise. This is the story of the groups that dared to recruit women for the dirtiest work: getting close to the enemy, winning their trust, and discovering and sharing their most precious information.

The Lucy Spy Ring: A Mystery Wrapped in an Enigma

With a home base in neutral Switzerland, the Lucy Spy Ring was the brainchild of Rudolph Roessler, a seemingly unassuming German refugee and publisher who became a resource for disaffected German officers eager to sabotage Hitler’s plans. Armed with an Enigma Machine and with a direct line to Soviet intelligence, the Lucy Spy Ring provided critical insights into Nazi operations. While its methods remain debated, its impact on the Eastern Front was undeniable.

Rachel Dübendorfer, codename SISSY, worked tirelessly to undermine the Nazi war machine. Dübendorfer, born Rachel Hepner, had been a Soviet agent since the 1920s, operating under the direction of a Soviet handler. In Switzerland since at least 1932, she established herself as a pivotal figure in the Red Three, the network of Soviet-aligned agents in Switzerland. Dübendorfer’s activities prior to the war included liaising with Communist Party contacts across Europe and working within the International Labour Organization, which provided a convenient cover for her covert work.

The German invasion of France in 1940 severed Dübendorfer’s direct communications with Moscow and her superiors. She adapted by reconnecting with other operatives, including Henri Robinson, a pre-war collaborator, who facilitated the flow of intelligence and resources. By early 1941, Dübendorfer resumed regular communication with Moscow, often using intricate courier systems to evade detection. She even utilized her sister, Rose Luchinski, to transport funds and messages; an example of the familial risks so often involved in resistance work.

What set the Lucy Spy Ring apart was its access to German insiders, particularly through the 20th of July Movement, a resistance group plotting against Hitler. Dübendorfer and her colleagues leveraged this information pipeline to alert Soviet forces to critical German strategies, directly influencing key battles on the Eastern Front.

Dübendorfer’s independence and resourcefulness made her a crucial part of the Lucy network. Her legacy, though still cloaked in secrecy, remains a testament to the crucial yet under-acknowledged role of women in the early days of organized espionage.

The existence of the Lucy Spy Ring was only substantiated in the 1960s and less is known about this particular network of people than other groups. It has been argued that the operatives didn’t know that the sensitive information they collected was being shared with the West, but the truth of that statement is unclear.

The Red Orchestra: Resistance in Harmony

The Red Orchestra was a collection of intellectuals, artists, civil servants, and students, many of whom were women. By 1940/41, their efforts of resistance against the Nazi ideology had grown into seven interconnected circles in Berlin, uniting over 150 people.

Members documented Nazi atrocities, aided persecuted individuals, and hosted clandestine political and artistic discussions. The group’s greatest focus, however, was on political education; equipping ordinary Germans with the truth about the regime they lived under. They ventured beyond their private circles to distribute leaflets, post subversive messages in public spaces, and spread the message to disaffected people in Germany that there was another way.

The Gestapo struck in the summer of 1942, dismantling the network and labeling it the “Red Orchestra.” Members faced brutal interrogations and trials, accused of treason and espionage. By the end of 1942, over 50 members had been executed.

Women like Mildred Fish-Harnack risked everything to pass vital intelligence to the Allies. Mildred’s courage and work with the Red Orchestra cost her life. She remains the only American woman tried and put to death by Nazi Germany. The Red Orchestra’s Berlin operatives, including Mildred and her husband Arvid, were pivotal in gathering intelligence, but the risks were immense, and, along with Mildred, many sacrificed their lives for the cause.

Among them was Liane Berkowitz, a 19-year-old woman who had joined the resistance through her connections to Fritz Thiel and Friedrich Rehmer. Fluent in Russian and fiercely committed, she was arrested after a flyposting campaign against the anti-Soviet propaganda exhibition The Soviet Paradise (a series of visuals “proving” that life in the USSR was both poverty-laden and brutal).

Sentenced to death in early 1943, she gave birth to her daughter, Irene, while imprisoned. Even this tiny and unthreatening life wasn’t spared Nazi cruelty. Her daughter likely fell victim to a Nazi euthanasia program months after birth. Liane herself was executed on August 5, 1943. Her clemency plea was personally denied by Hitler.

The OSS: America’s Secret Army

When the United States under President Roosevelt formed the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) in 1942, they took inspiration from Britain’s SOE and recognized the value of women capable of fieldwork. These American women worked as undercover agents, intercepted transmissions, and even infiltrated enemy territories.

Julia McWilliams, later known to the world as chef Julia Child, began her career in the OSS before trading secret codes for soufflés. Her greatest accomplishment at the OSS: coming up with her first “recipe” for a shark repellent that protected submerged bombs.

Other OSS women took their various skills into the field, becoming the vanguard of America’s modern spycraft. From planting bombs to analyzing aerial photos, these women, constituting 35% of the OSS’s workforce, contributed in ways that were as dangerous as they were groundbreaking.

Take Elizabeth McIntosh and Doris Bohrer, two OSS veterans who later happened to become neighbors in a Virginia retirement community. McIntosh worked in Asia, on missions with a focus on psychological warfare tactics. She once unknowingly handed a Chinese operative a bomb disguised as coal; a device that later blew up a train carrying Japanese soldiers. Decades later, she admitted to still wrestling with the moral weight of that action. Bohrer, who spent her WWII service years billeted in Italy, analyzed aerial photos, decoding the Axis powers’ military plans.

Recruiter Maggie Griggs spearheaded the effort to bring women into the OSS, though the task came with unique challenges. She advertised in vague terms in newspapers and magazines, unable to reveal the nature of the work due to security. Women like Cora Du Bois, a respected anthropologist, hit glass ceilings after answering Griggs’s call, despite her expertise. Others, such as Aline Griffith, took on missions tailored specifically to their abilities.

Griffith, a young Long Island socialite, found herself whisked into the OSS and assigned to Spain for espionage work. Her mission was to feed misinformation to a Nazi double agent, unknowingly playing a pivotal role in Operation Anvil, the Allied invasion of Southern Europe in 1944. Griffith, with her charm and social effervescence, was unknowingly the bait in a deception designed to mislead the enemy about the invasion’s true location. She was not told until later that the man she was ordered to get in contact with was a turncoat.

The women of the OSS faced great danger, but their many contributions laid the groundwork for women’s roles in intelligence and espionage for decades to come. The story of America’s “Secret Army” would be incomplete without the voices of these extraordinary women, who risked everything for missions they could rarely talk about, even to each other.

The SOE: Churchill’s “Glorious Amateurs”

The Special Operations Executive (SOE) was the elder sister of the American OSS. Formed in 1940, it was tasked with “setting Europe ablaze” through sabotage and underground resistance. Women played a key role, often going unnoticed as couriers and radio operators in Nazi-occupied territories. Noor Inayat Khan, a wireless operator, kept the lines of communication open in Paris for months before her capture and eventual execution within the Dauchau concentration camp. Virginia Hall, the “Limping Lady” with a false leg, became a thorn in the Gestapo’s side, orchestrating resistance and evading capture with cunning and nerve.

This shadow army was trained in sabotage, unarmed combat, and deception, borrowing effective tactics learned from the Irish Republican Army’s irregular warfare. Agents blended seamlessly into occupied territories, armed with fluent language skills and the ability to disappear when being tracked.

The Gestapo’s bloody reputation loomed over every mission. Capture meant torture, or worse. Because of this, some agents carried cyanide pills concealed in coat buttons for a swift escape when they ran out of other options. Despite the dangers, the SOE began recruiting women in 1942, recognizing that gendered assumptions about war often allowed female agents to slip under the enemy’s radar.

Among the first female operatives was Krystyna Skarbek, later known as Christine Granville, who started working behind enemy lines before the SOE even officially recruited women. Skarbek was legendary for her resourcefulness; once, she faked tuberculosis symptoms by biting her tongue to draw blood, convincing her German interrogators to release her or face infection. On another occasion, she and her lover, fellow agent Andrzej Kowerski, escaped capture by fleeing Europe in a car stolen from the Nazis.

By the war’s end, several female agents had been smuggled into France, Belgium, and other occupied territories. These women coordinated supply drops, trained resistance fighters, and gathered intelligence, often in plain sight. Many did not return home as the survival rate for these female agents was not great; one in five died on the job.

The SOE’s female agents were crucial in leading the war towards its eventual Allied victory. One of their greatest accomplishments was relaying information that helped the Allies know where enemies would be stationed during D-Day operations.

Jewish Women in the Shadows: Fighting Two Battles

The bravery of Jewish female spies during World War II is nothing short of astonishing, their stories weaving together courage, tragedy, and relentless determination in the face of unspeakable odds.

Take Marthe Cohn, a 4’11” French Jewish woman who infiltrated Nazi Germany as an Allied spy. One mission nearly ended when she fell through thin ice while on an operation in winter. Emerging from the freezing water, Cohn refused to let hypothermia or fear stop her. Her fiancé, Jacques, had been executed for his resistance efforts, and her siblings risked their lives saving fellow Jews from the Nazis. Cohn would go on to say that she didn’t feel brave while carrying out her missions, simply that she had a “job to do.” 

Another remarkable figure was photographer Faye Schulman, who miraculously survived a massacre in Nazi-occupied Poland. Not one to go quietly into the dark, she then joined a partisan group, using her camera to document the resistance in over 100 photos, preserving a rare glimpse of the human side of guerrilla warfare. While so many of the heroes of WWII have gone, Schulman’s photos live on and speak to a bravery that extends beyond combat, capturing the soul of resilience when winning seemed an impossibility.

Then there’s Vera Atkins (maiden name Rosenberg), who was both a Romanian Jewish woman and an operative of the SOE. Atkins personally prepared and oversaw the missions of over 400 agents sent into Nazi-occupied France, many of them women she affectionately called her “girls.” She felt the weight of the lives she put in danger for Britain’s cause, but she chose to push forward until the war was won. She didn’t give up then, either. She spearheaded the effort to find out what, exactly, happened to agents who never made it home.

Each of these women left behind a legacy that serves as a powerful reminder of how ordinary people, in horrifyingly extraordinary times, can be catalysts for good.

Marie-Madeleine Fourcade, a leader of the French Resistance, stands apart from her compatriots for being the only woman to hold such a position. Known as “Hedgehog” for her resilience in the face of a powerful regime, Fourcade played a crucial role in gathering intelligence and orchestrating dangerous missions. The Alliance network, guided by Fourcade and dubbed “Noah’s Ark” by the Gestapo, supplied the Allies with the necessary information to perform military operations, such as those on D-Day. At extreme risk to herself and those she loved, Fourcade took on the Nazis and emerged as one of WWII’s greatest underground legends.

How the French Resistance Got Started

The French Resistance did not begin as the network that it later turned into. It began with quiet, defiant acts and a refusal to accept fascism as the new norm within France. In the summer of 1940, Charles de Gaulle, then a lesser-known general, made a six-minute speech from a BBC studio in London. He spoke words of encouragement to the disheartened French in their homes, rejected Marshal Pétain’s armistice with Nazi Germany, and reframed the fall of France as a setback, not a surrender.

However, this rallying cry did not fully acknowledge how grim the situation at home actually was. The German occupation of the north and the establishment of the Vichy government in the south left the French population demoralized.

Before pointing fingers backward in condemnation of history’s mistakes, it is important to remember that France had lost a generation of men in WWI and wasn’t eager to do so again (though, after the second world war, it would be estimated that France lost over half a million people). Pétain’s Vichy administration, a puppet regime masquerading as a neutral entity, left little reason for those yearning to resist to believe their voices would be heard. The French military’s famed Maginot Line, touted as an unbreachable defense, had been bypassed almost effortlessly by the German forces seeking to occupy France.

Yet even amidst all these defeats, acts of personal defiance began to appear. Flyers appeared denouncing Nazi policies, graffiti defiled Nazi images, and words of rebellion were spread. These early seeds of resistance sprouted, watered by a refusal to become part of the fascist regime and faith in France’s honor, bruised as it may have been. The movement would soon grow into more organized cells, each tasked with constructing chaos behind enemy lines.

How Ms. Fourcade Became Involved

Born into privilege in Marseille to a family made wealthy in the steamship industry, and raised partly in cosmopolitan Shanghai, Fourcade seemed destined for a conventional socialite’s life. By the 1930s, however, she was a divorced single mother of two with a pilot’s license and a career in the burgeoning radio industry. First in Shanghai, then in Morocco, she experienced the freedoms denied to many women in the world and became accustomed to free thinking.

During her short time as a military wife, she met Georges Loustaunau-Lacau. He was a young French intelligence officer with suspicions about Germany’s fast-growing military might. Loustaunau-Lacau recognized Fourcade’s sharp intellect and recruited her for his covert information gathering. The two stayed in contact even after her marriage fell apart. By 1940, with France reeling from the Blitzkrieg and the fall of the Maginot Line, Loustaunau-Lacau became the father of the Alliance spy network. Fourcade, with her knack for persuasion and intelligence, became the network’s secret weapon. Working alongside Loustaunau-Lacau, Marie-Madeleine was kept busy recruiting agents and gathering intelligence.

Fourcade’s spying and coordinating of spies meant her children were deeply endangered. Eventually, when her son was twelve and her little girl ten, Marie-Madeleine realized she had to get them out of France before she was caught or they were used against her. Marie-Madeleine sent her children to Switzerland, although they had to make the last bit of the perilous trek on their own. Later in life, Marie-Madeleine would claim it was her son, the eldest of the two children, whose bravery got them over the line and to safety.

The Resistance’s Greatest Successes

The French Resistance was absolutely not a military might (too many French soldiers had already been captured or killed). But what it lacked in brute force, it more than made up for in cunning and creativity. Operating under the radar and often against impossible odds, Marie-Madeleine and her ragtag group of unsung heroes made life miserable for the occupying Nazis.

The Resistance excelled at sabotaging Nazi supply lines, communications, and infrastructure. They derailed trains, cut telephone lines, and blew up bridges, all while doing everything they could to avoid the Gestapo. These seemingly small acts of rebellion forced the Germans to spread their troops thin, diverting resources that could have otherwise been deployed on the front lines. A thin line of defense is a weak line of defense, making life (and the odds) much better for the Allies.

One notable victory was the surrender of Column Elster, where 18,500 German soldiers laid down their arms to the Americans. Months of relentless and unpredictable harassment by Resistance operatives had diminished German morale, both on the battlefield and back home.

Imagine being a German soldier, knowing that the people whose country you were in hated you. You do not know if the vehicle you have will stop (the Resistance may have put tin shavings in your brake lines) or if the munitions coming to you on train tracks will ever make it to you (the Resistance often removed bolts from the railways), or if you’ll be driving away and suddenly stuck in enemy territory (French factories that made vehicles for the Germans may have encouraged workers to tamper with the fuel gages). It was exhausting, and it sapped the German will to win.

There were quieter but no less important acts of information gathering as well. Resistance agents mapped supply routes, tracked troop movements, and even provided the Allies with a stunningly detailed, 55-foot-long map of Normandy’s beaches. That map became crucial to the success of the D-Day landings. The Resistance, a group of women and amateurs, was punching well above its weight.

It was these same women that carried secret documents in baby carriages, hid weapons under loaves of bread, and delivered life-saving supplies to those in hiding, often right under the noses of Nazi occupiers. They took downed Allied airmen into their homes, facing the threat of being killed or sent to a work camp if they were found out.

Julia Pirotte, a Polish-Jewish immigrant, led attacks on Nazi targets in Marseille and documented her efforts through photography. Women like her, Germaine Tillion, and Geneviève de Gaulle (Charles’s niece) shattered stereotypes, proving that resistance came in many forms and every gender.

Many of the ladies living under Nazi oppression had never wielded a weapon but had picked up a pen. This is why underground newspapers and pamphlets circulated anti-Nazi propaganda, letting other dissenters know they were not alone. These efforts nurtured the earliest seeds of defiance.

It is a myth that the Resistance was one cohesive, all-powerful force. Instead, it was a myriad of individuals and groups, united by a shared goal: to defy tyranny. And in doing so, they showed the world that courage isn’t always found on a battlefield; it’s also found in churches, around kitchen tables, and over a glass of wine.

What Happened to the Resistance at the End of the War?

When France was finally liberated and began piecing itself back together, the Resistance found itself pushed aside. Women, who had been indispensable during the war, were quickly shushed. The call to “repopulate France” rang loud, as the nation sought to replenish the workforce lost to two devastating wars. The wartime heroines, many of whom had risked their lives for their country, were now expected to trade their ambitions for aprons and their espionage for strollers. Their sacrifices, if spoken out loud, only served to remind collaborators of their own failings.

Simultaneously, the myth of a grand, unified Resistance took hold. Known as “résistancialisme,” this post-war narrative allowed France to rebuild its shattered national identity. By painting the Resistance as a vast, collective effort, it helped to obscure uncomfortable truths about the widespread acceptance of the Vichy regime and the shocking moral compromises made under Nazi rule. This myth, though comforting, often overlooked the fact that active resisters were a small minority, leaving the majority of the population to navigate survival under occupation in ways that surely weren’t heroic.

Worse, there were “war babies,” living proof of a more complicated reality. As the Nazis departed, they left behind, among other things, evidence of relationships, both consensual and coerced, between German soldiers and French women. These innocents, who couldn’t have picked who fathered them, were sometimes referred to as “enfants de Boches,” (not a nice term). For women who hadn’t acted with the Resistance like Marie-Madeleine had, fraternizing with the enemy was seen as the ultimate cowardice, and public shaming (such as head-shaving) was often their punishment. France would rather believe every one of its people had resisted instead of making the Nazis comfortable in any way.

In the end, the Resistance’s legacy became a double-edged sword: its legend became both a source of immense pride but also a repository for national guilt and selective memory. Women’s contributions were often sidelined in favor of a male-dominated narrative that was mostly myth. The complexities of survival under occupation were brushed aside in favor of tales of glory. What remained was a fiction of a shadow army and of heroism that helped France move forward, even as it left many of the actual stories of brave resistors untold.

With a long history dating to the 17th century, geishas are instantly recognizable cultural icons with their bright white make-up and immaculate sculpted black hair. Revered for their artistry and elegance, their craft is a living embodiment of Japan’s cultural heritage. From the pleasure quarters of Edo Japan to the geisha districts of Kyoto today, geishas have borne witness to the evolution of Japanese society. Yet, this profession remains shrouded in mystery, and many still wonder: what is a geisha and how has their cultural role evolved with time?

What Is a Geisha’s Historical Role?

The history of geishas, which literally translates to “art person,” is generally understood to begin in 17th-century Edo Japan. While their predecessors had been predominantly male, the geisha profession was almost entirely female-centric from the 1800s onwards. In the flourishing government-sanctioned pleasure quarters, geishas plied their trade alongside courtesans and other entertainers. Established as an independent, distinct profession, geishas had been refined companions to patrons of teahouses and upscale restaurants. Traditionally, they would undergo years of rigorous training, beginning in their childhood, in the mastery of dance, music, poetry, tea ceremony, and other traditional arts. As a mainstay in Edo’s cultural life, geishas were often credited for influencing both the social fabric and artistic expression of the time.

The Road to Becoming a Geisha

Becoming a geisha was historically a demanding and lengthy process that often began in a girl’s childhood and continued through adolescence. In the past, poor families would sometimes sell their young daughters to an okiya (geisha house) as shikomi, trainees who performed domestic duties and ran errands. As they matured and moved on to the minarai stage, they would shadow and observe the senior geishas at social gatherings. This allowed the geisha-in-training to pick up the essential skills and mirror the mannerisms of their seniors.

Formal artistic education would begin when they became a maiko (apprentice) and trained intensively in dance, shamisen (a three-stringed instrument), tea ceremony, singing, and refined conversation. Typically dressed in a kimono with a red collar, a maiko is recognizable by the nape of her neck, which is uncovered by makeup. After years of apprenticeship, a maiko would officially debut as a full-fledged geisha after the erikae, or “Turning of the Collar” ceremony. An important milestone in the life of a maiko, the erikae would see her symbolically exchanging the red collar for the pure white collar of a geisha.

The Golden Age of Geisha Culture

The golden age of geisha culture lasted from the late Edo era (mid-19th century) through to the Meiji (1868–1912) era. Geishas enjoyed a period of heightened popularity and were touted as fashion and cultural icons in society. During this time, legislative and socio-economic changes contributed to the flourishing geisha industry. In particular, the monumental Prostitution Abolition Act of 1872 helped to formally distinguish the geisha profession from that of sex workers in the pleasure quarters. A series of legislation, including taxation, wage standardization, and proper record-keeping of customers and fees, further solidified the geishas’ status as professional entertainers.

As the Meiji era saw Japan rapidly modernizing to keep up with international standards, geishas played an essential cultural role in preserving tradition amid widespread change. This period saw geishas being hailed as fashion trendsetters, muses for writers and artists, as well as sought-after companions for political and business elites in social settings. In 1916, the total number of geishas in Japan stood at 1,941, nearly twice that of the figure in 1906. By 1926, a staggering 80,000 geishas were plying their trade in the whole of Japan.

Interwar Years: The Fight to Stay Relevant

Nonetheless, the interwar years in Japan heralded a new era of consumerism that was fueled by the influx of Western influences. Urban entertainment options sprouted everywhere in the cities, with consumers flocking to cafes, cabarets, departmental stores, and theaters. The latest ‘It girl’ in fashion was no longer the geisha but the modan garu, or modern girl, who sported western-style dresses and flapper hairstyles. Standing as a sharp contrast to the kimono-clad geisha who embodied all things traditional, the modan garu promoted westernized lifestyles and embraced independence.

At the same time, geishas faced competition from the newly emerging yatona, who were female entertainers performing a simplified function. Similarly clad in a kimono and trained in basic etiquette, a yatona was a popular low-cost alternative, although she lacked the sophisticated artistry of a geisha. In this social climate, geishas were increasingly seen as a relic of the bygone Edo era. Some questioned their cultural relevance, while others went as far as to chastise them for not keeping up with the rapidly westernizing society. In 1929, the industry was impacted by the global financial crisis, which rendered geisha entertainment an unnecessary form of luxury afforded only by a few. Unfavorable socio-economic conditions forced many geishas to reconsider their livelihood during this period, with many leaving the profession altogether.

The Interwar Years: Reinventing the Profession

In the face of widespread socio-economic changes, the geisha community recognized the need to reinvent itself to strengthen its cultural role in a modernizing society. Apart from embracing new fashion styles and listening to new music, some even began experimenting with new dances. In Pontochō, Kyoto, this came in the form of reimagining an annual geisha dance performance called Kamogawa Odori, which originally depicted folklore and beautiful scenery.

Production from the 1930s onward featured modern choreography and sophisticated set designs, with a fusion of Japanese and Western aesthetics. Odori program leaflets often featured advertisements with geishas promoting modern restaurants, as well as western-style fashion items such as umbrellas and shawls; a sign of how these traditional entertainers have integrated into the evolving commercial and cultural life of modern Japan.

Navigating Changes in Wartime and Post-war Japan

In the 1930s, Japan stepped up efforts to militarize the country, emphasizing industrial expansion and nationalistic education to fuel its war machine. With the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War in 1937, the entire Japanese society was geared up for total war, which meant that resource shortage and working restrictions became a reality. Geisha districts were subsequently ordered to close in 1944, and geishas had to survive by finding work in factories manufacturing munitions, vehicles, and pharmaceuticals to support the war effort.

During the Allied Occupation of Japan (1945-1952), following the end of World War II, the government established the Recreation and Amusement Association (RAA) to manage organized prostitution. For the benefit of the Allied soldiers, they created “comfort facilities” such as restaurants and brothels, which were staffed by an estimated 50,000 women. Some sex workers took on the name “geisha girls” while serving drinks, dancing, and sleeping with the Allied soldiers. Partly due to the language barrier and similar kimono wear, “geisha girls” became synonymous with prostitution, furthering the harmful and persistent misconception that all geishas were sex workers.

In the 1950s, post-war Japan quickly embarked on a period of reconstruction and modernization. With that came improved educational opportunities, rapid urbanization, and the sprouting of modern entertainment venues, like hotels and nightclubs, which rendered the geisha profession but one of many career options available. Compulsory education laws in the 1960s made it such that girls could no longer start geisha training at a tender age, impacting the industry significantly. By the 1980s, the number of geishas had dwindled to around 17,000, a sharp dip from the 80,000 active in the 1920s.

A Geisha’s World Today

Today, there are only about 1,000 geishas in Japan, with their presence most prominent in Kyoto. Geishas operating within the handful of geisha districts, such as Gion, Kamishichiken, and Miyagawa-chō, continue to safeguard and showcase Japan’s cultural heritage. Most geishas today enter the profession out of their own volition, as poor families selling their daughters to the okiya is now a thing of the past. Nonetheless, modern geishas continue to adhere to long-standing customs when it comes to training, performance, and decorum. Regular engagements at tea houses and private banquets remain their primary source of income, complemented by occasional public odori performances and participation in cultural festivals.

The Road Ahead: What Is a Geisha’s Future?

As Japan reels from the devastating impacts of overtourism in recent years, geishas find themselves increasingly at the mercy of bad tourist behavior. Trespassing on private property, physical harassment, and unauthorized photography have caused unnecessary distress and disruption to their day-to-day lives. To combat such unruly behaviour, Kyoto’s city council banned public access to some parts of the geisha districts in 2024. At the same time, a debate over cultural authenticity ensues with the rising popularity of commercialized maiko experiences in Japan. These paid photography sessions allow tourists to don an elaborate kimono and makeup of a maiko, but critics argue they risk reducing centuries-old art to superficial experiences.

For centuries, geishas have played an essential role in preserving the cultural fabric of Japan with grace and refined artistry. Facing the struggle to remain relevant in the modern world today, they have emerged as enduring symbols of Japanese cultural heritage. While the future of the profession remains uncertain, education and legislative efforts aimed at ensuring careful adaptation and promoting authentic cultural preservation could go a long way to sustain this centuries-old tradition.

When it comes to biblical immorality, no one quite delivers like King David upon seeing Bathsheba. Their story reads like a fever dream of soap opera scandal: a king’s rooftop lust, a bathing beauty, a husband sent to his doom, and a prophet with receipts from the Almighty. Oh, and let’s not forget the aftermath: a dead child, a cursed lineage, and a second son who would go on to build the Temple and become one of the wisest (and most infamous) monarchs in history. Bathsheba emerges as a cunning power player, securing her son Solomon’s place on the throne. The tale is as layered as it is unsettling, leaving us questioning the nature of power, agency, and how one royal misstep has echoed throughout history.

King David on a Rooftop, Instead of Fighting a War

By the time of the infamous rooftop incident, David had been king for over 15 years. He had transformed from the shepherd boy who took down Goliath to a seasoned ruler, well-established in his palace in Jerusalem. His kingdom was flourishing, his conquests were piling up, and his personal life was, let’s say, complicated. With six wives already sharing his royal quarters, David wasn’t exactly experiencing poverty in the consort department.

By ancient custom, spring was the season when kings went out to war. Yet David, the once-hands-on warrior-king, stayed behind in his palace, delegating the campaign to his loyal general Joab. Joab and the Israelite army were laying siege to the Ammonite capital, Rabbah; a grueling campaign. Among those enduring the brutality of the battlefield was Uriah the Hittite, one of David’s elite soldiers. Calling him a Hittite, and remembering him thusly, also seems to be a bit of a literary backhand. He was probably a second-generation Israelite, as the name Uriah isn’t one of Hittite origin.

Uriah was part of “the Thirty,” a group of highly skilled warriors who formed the backbone of David’s military might. To reach that rank required immense courage and skill; Uriah had earned this place. Yet as he fought on the front lines, his king stood on his palace rooftop, enjoying the comforts of home. It was there that David noticed Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba, bathing nearby.

The story spiraled from there. David, already married in the multiple, was overcome by his desire for Bathsheba and summoned her to a meeting.

The Girl on the Rooftop

Bathsheba’s story invites modern readers into deeply uncomfortable territory. When modern folk imagine her bathing on a rooftop, the titillating scene conjured is often one of a grown woman intentionally seducing the king, soaping up where he can easily spy on her. But let’s pause and look at the context: Bathsheba was likely very young. Young enough, in fact, that she just may have been purifying herself after experiencing her first menstrual cycle.

Bathsheba wasn’t a stranger to King David, either. Her grandfather, Ahithophel, was one of David’s most trusted advisors, a man renowned for his wisdom and influence. Her father, Eliam, had been one of David’s elite warriors, also counted among “the Thirty.” Bathsheba had grown up in a family that served David’s court and military. She wasn’t some unknown beauty who suddenly appeared on a rooftop one day. She was part of the extended network of loyalty and service that bolstered David’s reign.

Additionally, historical context can clear up a lot of common misconceptions about the rooftop. The bath Bathsheba was taking was most likely part of a mikvah, a ritual purification mandated by Jewish law. She wasn’t luxuriating in plain sight to attract attention; she was following religious tradition. The very idea that she was seducing David collapses under scrutiny. If anything, she was fulfilling a religious and cultural obligation, not orchestrating an affair.

What makes Bathsheba’s situation even more tragic is her youth and vulnerability. She had been married to Uriah the Hittite, but given her age, their union was likely a political arrangement rather than a marriage of equals. Some scholars argue she may have been too young for the marriage to have even been consummated yet.

The story of Bathsheba as a “siren” says more about historical biases than the truth of her circumstances. She was a young girl from a family who gave themselves into the service of the royal house, married to a soldier, and likely living under the shadow of courtly politics. Her “choices” were shaped by the world around her, where a king’s summons was not a request but a command. She simply had no choice.

David Summons Her, She Gets Pregnant, Then What?

They meet. They “know” each other. Then, as far as the king is concerned, the tryst is over and his hunger is sated. That is until Bathsheba notifies him that she is carrying proof of the affair. If, as some suspect, she hadn’t known any man before the king, her life was suddenly in even more dire straits. The consequences of being labeled an adulterer were fatal: stoning was the punishment prescribed by law. Bathsheba’s fate, and the fate of the child that grew within her, were tied to David’s decisions. Both of their survival depended on the king’s willingness to protect her, and his choices left much to be desired.

David’s first attempt to cover up his actions was riddled with faulty smoke and mirrors. He summoned Uriah back from the battlefield, ostensibly for a report on the war. The king’s real intention was to send Uriah home to sleep with Bathsheba, creating the illusion that her child was conceived within the bonds of matrimony. However, Uriah’s loyalty to his comrades and his unyielding sense of duty prevented him from enjoying comforts denied to his fellow soldiers. Not even David’s ploy of getting the soldier drunk could sway him.

When deception failed, David’s solution turned deadly. He sent Uriah back to the front lines with sealed orders instructing Joab to position him where the fighting was fiercest and then withdraw support, ensuring Uriah’s death. The man unknowingly delivered his own death sentence. The plan worked, and Uriah was killed in battle; a betrayal that left Bathsheba widowed and free to remarry…quickly.

After a brief mourning period for Uriah, Bathsheba was brought to the palace and married to David. To the public, it may have seemed like an act of gentle stewardship, a king caring for the widow of a soldier who had served him well. In reality, it was damage control. But the prophet Nathan saw through David’s ploy and delivered a devastating rebuke. In a parable that mirrored David’s sins, Nathan likened him to a rich man who stole and slaughtered a poor man’s only lamb. When David condemned the hypothetical man, Nathan struck with the truth: “You are the man!”

Nathan’s prophecy foretold violence and tragedy within David’s household; a punishment that began with the death of Bathsheba’s child. The baby did not live longer than seven days, leaving Bathsheba to grieve yet another loss. In a matter of months, she had been torn from her first marriage, thrust into a dangerous relationship with a much older man, and lost her firstborn child.

Again, somehow, she managed to pick up the pieces and continue living. She went on to have four more sons with David: Shammua, Shobab, Nathan (not to be confused with the prophet), and Solomon. Her enduring friendship with the prophet Nathan, who had foreseen that David’s sins would lead to death in her own family, suggests a remarkable strength and resilience in the face of such overwhelming trauma.

Enter Solomon

Solomon’s birth marked a turning point in Bathsheba’s story, both as a mother and as a woman wielding political influence in a world shaped by and for men. By the time of Solomon’s birth, David was nearly 50 years old burdened with a tumultuous household. Bathsheba, likely still a teenager, now had to navigate the childhood of a vulnerable son; a son whose future would shape the destiny of Israel.

When Solomon was born, the prophet Nathan, who had once rebuked David for his sins, delivered a message of grace: God loved this child. While in the womb, the Almighty called this baby a Jedidiah, meaning “beloved of the Lord,” signaling to all his divine favor. This blessing set Solomon apart, but it was Bathsheba’s calculated influence that secured his path to the throne.

Though Solomon was not David’s eldest son, Bathsheba’s determination ensured he was not overlooked in the scramble for succession. David’s indulgence with his other children, particularly his older sons, had already proven to produce nothing but chaos. Amnon, David’s firstborn, committed an unspeakable crime against his half-sister Tamar, and David’s refusal to act led to Absalom’s vengeful murder of Amnon. Absalom, in turn, declared himself king and forced David into a humiliating retreat. After all, if David couldn’t protect his own daughter or take retribution on her abuser, how could he effectively run a country? Through all this, Bathsheba and Solomon witnessed firsthand the destructive consequences of unchecked ambition and parental inaction.

Bathsheba understood the precarious position Solomon was in. Absalom, with his striking beauty and magnetic charisma, had stolen the hearts of the people and likely dismissed Solomon as a mere child. It wasn’t this older brother but Bathsheba who saw what others overlooked: David’s growing affection for Solomon and the divine promise attached to him.

As David aged, his remaining sons jockeyed for power. Adonijah (the next in line after Absalom’s murder of Amnon and then his own death after usurping the crown) declared himself king with the backing of key allies. During this final power grab, Bathsheba, in a masterful display of political acumen, approached the ailing David alongside the prophet Nathan. She reminded the king of his earlier vow that Solomon would succeed him all while exposing Adonijah’s premature claim to the throne. Her timing and tact were impeccable, compelling David to publicly anoint Solomon as his heir, effectively quashing Adonijah’s rebellion before it could take hold.

Bathsheba’s role didn’t end with securing Solomon’s kingship. She remained a trusted advisor and a powerful presence in the royal court (after all, she was now queen mother). Even after David’s death, she skillfully navigated palace intrigues, including Adonijah’s attempt to marry Abishag, one of David’s concubines; a move that Solomon interpreted as a threat to his reign. It was Bathsheba who brought this request to Solomon, a gesture that demonstrated her continued influence. She likely knew the outcome would not extend Adonijah’s lifespan.

Solomon grew to be a man of contrasts, renowned for his wisdom and wealth, but flawed by his insatiable appetite. His request for wisdom at Gibeon earned him divine favor, and his legendary judgment solidified his reputation as Israel’s wisest ruler. Yet, as he aged, Solomon’s heart turned toward the foreign gods of his many wives and concubines, leading to spiritual decline and the eventual fracturing of the kingdom after his death. Bathsheba probably did not live to see this change of character.

As the mother of the wisest king of Israel, she left an indelible mark on history. One can only wonder what Bathsheba thought of Solomon’s many marriages and his eventual straying from Yahweh. Did she warn him against repeating David’s mistakes, or was she powerless to prevent her son from repeating history?

Though the Bible leaves much of Bathsheba’s inner life to speculation, her actions speak volumes. She rose above scandal and tragedy to become a mother of kings and a wise strategist in a complicated court. Solomon’s reign, with all its splendor and flaws, was a testament to the strength and influence of the woman who ensured he could live long enough to flourish.

Albert Einstein, Alan Turing, Alexander Graham Bell and even Pythagoras—all famous for their contributions to the fields of science, technology, engineering, and mathematics, making them household names. But what about the women in STEM? Historically, women in STEM fields have been plagued by misogyny as well as the absence of female colleagues to support and inspire them. As a result, STEM fields remain dominated by men. Here are six inspiring and influential women in STEM that we should all know!

1. Hedy Lamarr (1914-2000)

Hedy Lamarr, a popular actress during the 1940s and 50s, was once seen as a fixture of popular American culture. Today, Lamarr is best known for her beauty and acting—in fact, few people know that a technology she co-invented helped create a staple of modern life: Wi-Fi.

Though best known for her achievements in acting, having been honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1960, Lamarr had been interested in technology from a young age. She was not trained in any STEM subjects, but she read books about engineering voraciously and as a result would design her own inventions. In the early days, these inventions were quite rudimentary—a glow-in-the-dark dog collar, for example—but World War II changed everything.

Working alongside George Antheil, an American composer, Lamarr discovered “frequency hopping.” This ingenious invention meant that switching radio frequencies became easier and signals jammed less often. Lamarr and Antheil aimed for their discovery to be used as a secret communications system; secret messages sent using their frequency hopping system were prevented from being intercepted.

Lamarr patented the invention in 1942 and planned to sell it to the US military, to help the navy command torpedoes underwater undetected, but frequency hopping wasn’t actually put into use until the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Frequency hopping, as well as the spread spectrum invented by Lamarr, provided the basis and earliest models of modern wireless communication technology like Bluetooth and Wi-Fi.

2. Dame Elizabeth Anionwu (1947- )

Dame Elizabeth Anionwu started her career in STEM as a nurse working for Britain’s National Health Service when she was just 16 years old. Working as a community nurse, Anionwu learned about sickle cell disease, an inherited variation of anemia that mainly affects those of African heritage, and decided to dedicate her career to helping those affected.

Anionwu felt as if sickle cell disease wasn’t thoroughly understood, or studied, by the NHS, and that there weren’t enough developments being made to help those who suffered from the disease. So, Anionwu traveled to the US to learn more about sickle cell disease and sickle cell anemia, as the resources and courses she needed were not available in the UK at the time.

In 1979, working alongside Dr. Milica Brozović, she opened the first UK center for counseling and screening for sickle cell disease, led by nurses in London. As more than 30 additional centers of this sort opened nationwide, Anionwu lectured at University College London and later became the dean of the School of Adult Nursing Studies and Professor of Nursing at the University of West London.

Anionwu wrote The Politics of Sickle Cell and Thalassemia in 2001, and A Short History of Mary Seacole in 2005. She is committed to fighting medical racism and discrimination that Black and minority ethnic patients face.

3. Katherine Johnson (1918-2020)

American mathematician Katherine Johnson is the reason man walked on the moon. One of NASA’s “human computers,” Johnson conducted and completed the complex calculations that sent astronauts into orbit in the 1960s and then to the moon in 1969.

Born in 1918, Johnson was a very bright child, having completed the eighth grade when she was only ten years old. Her town didn’t offer any further education for African Americans after the eighth grade, and so her father moved her family 120 miles away so she could attend high school. She ultimately graduated from high school at 14 and then from college, with a degree in mathematics, at 18.

In 1952, she applied to NASA after learning that they were hiring African American women to work as computers and check calculations. Those at NASA were impressed with Johnson’s adeptness and curiosity, and two weeks later she was moved to the flight research division.

Johnson found that geometry was the easiest way to calculate how to fly to space, and was given the task of plotting America’s first space journey in 1961. Johnson also worked on America’s space journey in 1962, 1969’s Apollo 11 mission, and calculated how to safely return the astronauts on the failed Apollo 13 mission in 1970. Johnson retired from NASA in 1986. The book by Margot Lee Shetterly and subsequent 2016 film Hidden Figures were based on Johnson’s work at NASA alongside fellow Black mathematicians Dorothy Vaughan and Mary Jackson.

4. Barbara McClintock (1902-1992)

In 1983, Barbara McClintock won the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine when she was 81 years old. Thought of as one of the greatest modern geneticists, McClintock discovered mobile genetic elements, which are genes that move between chromosomes.

Studying botany at Cornell University’s College of Agriculture, McClintock discovered her love and passion for genetics when studying maize chromosomes and how they change during reproduction. In 1929, McClintock identified all ten maize chromosomes, and was the first person to do so. McClintock was also the first person to be able to describe the genetic map of maize—before the DNA structure was discovered in 1953!

In the 1940s and 50s, she began her work and breakthroughs in the field of mobile genetic elements. At that time, most scientists believed that genes were static and stationary, and so McClintock’s work proving that some forms of genetic material can move was met with hostility. McClintock received so much backlash that she stopped publishing in 1953.

It wasn’t until the 1960s that her work was fully understood and accepted, and in 1970 she received the National Medal of Science, the first woman to do so. She later won her Nobel Prize, and in 1986 she was inducted into the National Women’s Hall of Fame.

After her death in 1992, biographies about her life and her discoveries were published to help inspire other young women and girls to study science and other STEM subjects.

5. Chien-Shiung Wu (1912-1997)

Known as the “first lady of physics,” nuclear physicist Chien-Shiung Wu worked on the Manhattan Project. Born in a small town near Shanghai, education was always very important to the Wu family. Her mother was a teacher and her father was an engineer, and so she was encouraged to pursue STEM subjects from a young age.

She first attended Nanjing University to study mathematics but switched to physics after being inspired by Marie Curie and graduated top of her class in 1934.

From 1935-1936, Wu completed her first experimental research, studying X-ray crystallography under the tutelage of Dr. Gu Jing-Wei. A fellow female researcher, she encouraged Wu to study at Berkeley, prompting Wu to move to the US. She later became the first female instructor to teach in Princeton’s physics department.

In 1944, she joined Columbia’s Manhattan Project, the program working to develop the first nuclear weapons, focusing her work on radiation detectors. She also discovered a way to improve uranium ore to produce large amounts of uranium, to be used as the bomb’s fuel.

Wu retired from teaching in 1981 and organized educational programs for people in the US, Taiwan, and China. She also dedicated the rest of her life to advocating for equal opportunities and rights for women in STEM and lectured worldwide to inspire young women in STEM.

6. Dr. Indira Hinduja (1946- )

Dr. Indira Hinduja is a highly respected gynecologist and obstetrician who is one of the leading doctors in the field of combating infertility in India. Studying medicine at the University of Mumbai Medical School and practicing at the King Edward Memorial Hospital in Mumbai, she began experimenting with cell biology and embryology. This led her to her PHD in “Human In-vitro Fertilization and Embryo Transfer,” and this medical research helped make possible the birth of India’s first “test tube” baby.

Later in her career, Dr. Hinduja developed the Gamete Intrafallopian Transfer (GIFT) Technology and went on to deliver India’s first GIFT baby in 1988. Her GIFT technique involves removing eggs from the ovaries and placing them in the fallopian tubes with the sperm.

Other medical breakthroughs she has pioneered include the development of the Oocyte Donation Technique, which helps patients with premature and menopausal ovarian failure. In 1991, the first baby was born using this technique.

Dr. Hinduja’s groundbreaking medical procedures have paved the way for even more research into stem cell biology, and her research has helped many couples struggling with infertility.