Fans pick 100 books like Eighty Years and More

Painting a broad picture of African-American women’s political advocacy and activism, Martha S. Jones presents women fighting for a voice in our political system from the early days of the Republic through women’s suffrage to the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Many of the women and their contributions to racial and gender equality were familiar to me. Others less so, including three generations of Jones’s own foremothers who worked for democratic participation in their day. Bringing home how very personal the political is, Jones finds Black women’s politics in parties, elections, government, and beyond. In churches and community institutions, in careers as teachers and journalists, they pursued an expansive vision of human rights and dignity.

It’s an informative, inspiring history, with hard-won gains contextualized with hard truths about our impaired democracy, and reminded me that the obligation to repair it belongs to us all.

I am recommending this book because it is a beautifully written, originally argued overview of women’s rights long history. Stansell organizes her compelling history of women’s rights around the shift from mothers’ perspectives (nineteenth-century feminism) to daughters’ perspectives (twentieth century). She writes beautifully and sweeps over this long tradition without minimizing the disagreements, shifts, and changes, all the while emphasizing the consistent theme of women’s individual freedom and collective struggle.

I am recommending this as the most personal of Steinem’s books. No list of books on the history of women’s rights would be complete without something about and by the most courageous, most consistent spokeswoman for feminism over the last half-century. Here Steinem tells the tale of her family, focused – surprisingly – on her eclectic and wandering father. The reader will be left with even great appreciation for Steinem and for the many and various routes women take to find their way to feminism and their full, true selves.

When global diplomats formed the League of Nations in 1919, feminists were forced to lobby for women’s rights from outside the halls of power. As a small measure of progress, after World War II six states would appoint women to the 1945 conference charged with drafting a charter to govern the League’s successor: the United Nations. Half of the female delegates were appointed by Latin American nations, and together, the three feministas would lobby tirelessly to ensure that the UN Charter bound the body to promote human rights “without distinction as to race, language, religion, or sex.” Marino’s fabulous book explains why, in the 1920s and 1930s, Latin American feminists came to play such an outsized role in the global quest for sexual equality and human rights.

I wish I could have read this book as I struggled to promote the sites in Seneca Falls to become a new national park. The US Congress directed the National Park Service to seek out and preserve sites that tell “nationally significant” aspects of our country’s history. Naming a place and its remaining structures nationally significant brings notice, interest, visitors, and support. Severely limiting parks focused on women might suggest that women’s history is not nationally significant.

I found the 19 chapters describing the benefits and challenges of selecting, preserving, and promoting the sites, structures, and stories of women’s trials and achievements heartening and inspiring. Each chapter provides valuable insights into the complex process of protecting historical places that reflect women's contributions to our nation's history. These stories highlight the importance of giving due recognition to sites connected to women's experiences and struggles.

Dr. Judith Wellman’s chapter, in particular, is… show more.

I was awe-struck with Polly Kaufman traveling the country and interviewing women in the Park Service, including myself. Her book dramatically documented the resistance to women’s history, women rangers, and women in leadership, affirming my frustrations throughout my 28-year career in the Service.

Polly began by researching the early history of the Park Service, a time when women were forbidden to be hired as rangers. She traced the drawn-out saga of decades of struggle women faced to become “real rangers” and earn the right to wear the official hat and uniform.

Polly also describes the histories of early women who rose to become park superintendents and other leaders in the Service. Additionally, she includes the astounding visit of Elizabeth Cady Stanton to Yosemite Valley in 1871.

I knew nothing of the history of Seneca Falls, or the 1848 convention, or really the struggle for women’s rights. When I first proposed the simple idea of “a new park about women’s history,” I had never heard of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, a forceful leader in the struggle for women’s rights for decades.

Judy Wellman was researching her book when I opened the Women’s Rights National Historical Park in 1982. I hired Judy as the park historian in the opening year and was graced with her wisdom as we developed the first exhibits and programs. I and the park benefitted greatly from her research through my six years as the founding superintendent of the park.

I love this book and so wish it had been available to me, park planners, and the public in 1982. But it was published in 2011. I received it as a gift and did not immediately realize it was intended for young adults. But how significant is it to reach girls and boys while still young and unbiased so they could better understand their lives as they unfolded?

I loved that it was accessible in its words, and very much in its design. Lots of space, largish print, clearly written, all make it also very appropriate for women, and men, of my age, which is 82. Weakened eyesight, shorter attention spans, no base of information to build on, this book is perfect also for seniors who probably had no formal education in women’s history and women’s rights.

I quoted Mary Beard in the conclusion of my book, where I spoke of the position of women in the informal power structures of diplomacy.

The call for a redefinition of power in her manifesto Women & Power hit home for me. Beard points out how subjective our perception of power is, urging us to reflect on what power is for and how we measure it. Rather than just lamenting women’s lack of power through history, Beard adds another dimension by suggesting that it is not women we need to change, but rather our skewed definition of power. 

Her analysis of the relationship between women and power in the Western tradition provides a historical background of misogyny that is not only to the point but also a literary delight. Read it.

This book is the OG of academic Spiritualism books. Braude was groundbreaking when she linked Spiritualism and the early women’s rights movement. At a time when women were barred, for the most part, from speaking in public or in the church, Spiritualism offered them a means to channel their spirit and speak in front of large audiences.

This paved the way for more women’s rights advocates to demand more space and attention in the realm of political rights. I’ve read this book so many times I’ve lost count. One, because it’s awesome. Two, because I learn something new every time I open it up.