From grassroots endeavors in someone’s church basement to direct services provided in multi-million-dollar buildings, the movement to end domestic violence has seen momentous growth in the last century. Countless women fought for our right to be here—in these seats, in this cushy office chair I write from now—and influential women speak out every day against injustices like the wage gap, double standards for beauty, and violence against women. Despite resistance, which seems even more dire in 2025 in many ways, these women rose to the occasion.
As we celebrate Women’s History Month, we celebrate the accomplishments of so many activists and advocates who came before us, who secured women’s right to vote, who pursued access to women’s reproductive health, and fought against the violence women encountered daily from both strangers, as well as their own husbands and partners. And yet, as we look at who came before and all they sought to do, we must never fail to look forward as well—to remember that we are marching forward for the rights we must continually secure for ourselves.
In this moment, however, I invite you to pause and dissect the way you are thinking about time right now: the future is forward, right? And the past is behind you? “Stay on the bus with me,” as our own Carol Hennon says.
There is another cultural group—the Aymara—who talk about the past and future in terms of the forehead (past) and spine (future). It’s somewhat disorienting, but it makes sense: we can see the past. Everything we have experienced manifests into who we are right now in the present. We have no idea what the future holds. It’s lurking where we can’t see it, waiting to surprise us. You can see the past and think about what happened, what you would do differently, and use it to plan for the future. The future is growth and stability if we do it well. Our spine grows us and holds us together—our movement depends on our spine. Similarly, our Movement depends on our Future which is shaped by our Past.
So, what (or who, rather) can we see before us? So much. But for now, I want to highlight five women who defied what was acceptable, expected, and sometimes legal of them in their own right: a reminder to us that in this movement, in a world drenched in patriarchy as a norm, sometimes it is best to defy the expected.
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- Betsy Ross, whom we all know from her creation of the United States flag in 1776, was more than just a seamstress extraordinaire. At a time when a Quaker such as herself could be ousted from the public eye by marrying someone of a different faith denomination, she eloped and caused an irrevocable split from her family and community. Then, she did the unthinkable: she opened an upholstery business. [Image from The New Yorker, March 2023, of a brunette women holding the original 13 colonies flag]
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- Harriet Jacobs escaped a life of torment at the hands of a slave owner in 1835. An enslaved person, she became a fugitive on the run and eventually landed in Rochester, New York, where she became adamantly involved in the abolitionist movement and improving the lives of recently-freed slaves. Her life’s account, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, was one of the first pieces of literature to openly discuss the sexual abuse endured by slave women. In it, she decries, “Truly, the colored race are the most cheerful and forgiving people on the face of the earth. That their masters sleep in safety is owing of to their superabundance of heart.”
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- Mari Sandoz was an acclaimed author and storyteller of the early 1900s, and she is often considered one of the first women who spoke openly about the abuse suffered at the hands of fathers and husbands in her novel Old Jules, a biographical account of her immigrant father’s struggles in the West. Sandoz showcases cyclical abuse in the novel, which spurred conversations about how common domestic violence really was and is.
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- Val Kalei Kanuha co-founded the first domestic violence shelter in the nation. In 1975, she saw a flier advertising a meeting space for “battered wives” and attended to offer her support. She was also one of the first to recognize the importance of culturally responsive supports and focusing, not just on perpetrators landing in jail (which can negatively impact underrepresented communities), but also on accountability for partners causing harm. She notes a holistic approach to her work: “We are not just victims or offenders of this kind of behavior,” Kanuha said. “We are immigrants, we are queer, we are poor. … We cannot address the problem without addressing the wholeness of those who have been violated, those who have violated, and the communities in which the violations occur.”
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- Beverly Gooden (who once retweeted a tweet of mine about a local DV case *shameless brag*) sparked the viral #WhyIStayed hashtag on social media, using her own experience as a catalyst to help others share their stories. This campaign shed light on the nuances and complexities of the cycle of abuse and challenged victim-blaming.
As you consider these critical women and the roles they have played in where we are now as a movement, I invite you to lean in: truly imagine your peers, your colleagues, your staff, your community.
Think of the legacy left behind by Vickie Smith, Jeannine Woods, and Gretchen Vapner, leaders who, after decades of challenges and heartbreak, triumphs and victories, retired their posts yet stay in the movement in other ways.
Think of the legacy that will be left someday by Margarette Trushel, Joyce Coffee, Susan Bursztynsky, and Maureen Manning, all leading ICADV member Program Council agencies in Illinois in this moment.
Think of the legacy being built by La Tonya Walker, Janet Ortega, Jenny Schoenwetter, Carrie Boyd, and the dozens of other incredible leaders right now.
Think of the time you spend at Program Council meetings surrounded by these leaders who do not shy away from being a voice for survivors. Think of the staff at the Coalition, their unwavering guidance, support, and advocacy.
Imagine them all standing in front of you, tangible evidence that change can and does happen.
And let that momentum guide you as we traverse the unknown. Let that image remind you that you are not alone, that you are supported by a wealth of the lineage before you, and that you are critical in the movement to end domestic violence now.
–Chloé McMurray, Chief Capacity Building Officer, ICADV