On August 26, 1920, the United States certified the 19th Amendment, granting women the right to vote—at least in theory. Yet, as Ms. magazine and numerous historians have pointed out, this hard-won victory was far from universal. While white women gained the ballot, women of color continued to face systemic disenfranchisement through racist laws and practices. The fight for women’s equality, both in the U.S. and around the globe, has been a story of progress, setbacks, and relentless activism—a story still unfolding more than a century later.
This week marks 105 years since that milestone, and the country finds itself at a crossroads. The White House, as mandated by a 1971 resolution, issued a proclamation commemorating Women’s Equality Day on August 26, 2025. But for many, the symbolism rings hollow. According to recent reporting, federal officials have been amplifying rhetoric that undermines women’s rights, with some even questioning whether women deserve the right to vote. Meanwhile, voting rights are under renewed attack, as state lawmakers redraw electoral maps that disenfranchise minority voters and push legislation that would disproportionately impact women—especially married and Black women.
“The fight for constitutional equality at all levels continues, in the simplest of terms, because women are still not equal,” said Katherine Spillar, executive editor of Ms. and longtime ERA activist, in a recent podcast episode. “A slew of feminist laws alone have not solved the problems of gendered economic, reproductive, and political injustice, nor have they broken the cycles of gender-based violence and harassment.”
The Equal Rights Amendment (ERA), a proposed constitutional amendment stating that “Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex,” has been at the heart of this struggle for over a century. First introduced in Congress in 1923 by suffragist Alice Paul, the ERA was designed to be the next step after the 19th Amendment, enshrining gender equality in the Constitution. But the path to ratification has been anything but straightforward.
After decades of lobbying, organizing, and protest—much of it chronicled in the pages of Ms.—the ERA finally passed the House of Representatives in 1971 and the Senate in 1972. It was sent to the states for ratification, with an arbitrary deadline set for 1979 and later extended to 1982. By the original deadline, 35 states had ratified the amendment, three short of the required three-fourths. It would take nearly 40 more years for the final three states—Nevada, Illinois, and Virginia—to ratify, with Virginia becoming the crucial 38th state in 2020, thanks to the leadership of delegates like Hala Ayala and Jennifer Carrol Foy.
Yet, even after crossing that threshold, the ERA has not been recognized as the 28th Amendment. Legal and political challenges—fueled by partisan opposition and questions about the validity of the deadline—have kept it in limbo. As Ellie Smeal, president of the Feminist Majority Foundation and a key architect of the ERA movement, recalled, “We knew that we had to get an extension of time. We also had to know if that time deadline really meant anything. It was in the preamble of the resolution, so no one got the vote on it. We said it didn’t count.”
The ERA’s journey is not just a legal saga but a testament to grassroots activism. Feminists have marched through blizzards, staged hunger strikes, and sent hundreds of thousands of telegrams to lawmakers. “Congressional passage of the ERA is something—an enormous something—that the women in this country did for themselves,” wrote Ann Scott in the July 1972 issue of Ms., “with little help, and over a staggering combination of apathy, ridicule, and organized opposition.”
Opposition has been fierce and, at times, paradoxical. Phyllis Schlafly’s STOP ERA campaign, for example, argued that the amendment would strip women of “privileges” such as homemaking and child-rearing, even as women faced discrimination in credit, employment, and legal protections. As Ruth Bader Ginsburg, then a Columbia Law professor, wrote in Ms. in 1973, “ERA supporters have come face to face with people who try to awaken fears that the Amendment, rather than insure our rights, will deprive us of privileges… The factual inaccuracies of such an argument demands an informed and logical response from those who wish to keep the discussion on a rational plane.”
The ERA’s supporters argue that its passage would do more than just affirm legal equality. It would provide Congress with the power to enact laws addressing sex discrimination and create a moral atmosphere of equality and justice. State-level ERAs, like those in Pennsylvania and Nevada, have already led to significant legal changes—from ending gender-based discrimination in divorce and employment to protecting reproductive rights. In 2024, the Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruled that a state ban on Medicaid funding for abortion was a form of sex discrimination prohibited by the state’s ERA, a decision hailed as a model for what a federal ERA could achieve nationwide.
But the struggle for gender equality is not confined to the U.S. The United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals aimed for global gender equality by 2030, but current trends suggest it won’t be achieved until the 22nd century. Around the world, women face repression, violence, and exclusion—from the gender apartheid enforced by the Taliban in Afghanistan to the protests in Iran, where women chant “women, life, freedom” in defiance of state oppression. In conflict zones, gender-based violence remains rampant, with recent reports highlighting abuses against Palestinians.
Meanwhile, domestic setbacks have compounded these challenges. The Dobbs decision, which overturned Roe v. Wade, has led to a 5.6% rise in infant mortality rates in states with abortion bans and increased barriers to contraceptive care. Federal policy changes have weakened workplace discrimination protections and support for survivors of domestic and sexual violence, while attacks on trans rights have intensified under the guise of “protecting women.” The dismantling of USAID and the destruction of $9.7 million worth of contraceptives have denied millions of women and girls, especially in Sub-Saharan Africa, access to essential healthcare, contributing to preventable deaths and exacerbating gender gaps in wellbeing and political participation.
Despite these setbacks, the movement for gender equality persists. Advocates like Pat Spearman, a former Nevada state senator, have worked tirelessly to broaden the ERA’s language to include protections based on race, sexual orientation, gender identity, and more. “We wanted to make sure that it was always and forever. We included everybody that had been marginalized and that could be marginalized,” Spearman explained.
Today, 27 states have gender equality provisions in their constitutions, and efforts to pass inclusive ERAs continue at the state and national levels. The ERA Project at NYU Law, led by Ting Ting Cheng, is pushing for a ground-up approach to gender justice, emphasizing the need for proactive policies and oversight to address both visible and hidden inequalities. As Cheng noted, “Legal equality alone will not overcome deeply-entrenched structural barriers. Economic support systems, safety measures, healthcare access, and work-life balance policies are essential building blocks for real equality.”
Public sentiment remains firmly on the side of progress. A majority of Americans believe that much work remains to achieve gender equality, citing sexual harassment, social expectations, legal inequality, and lack of representation as persistent obstacles. Yet, the ERA’s fate hangs in the balance—subject to the outcomes of future elections and the willingness of lawmakers to act.
As Rep. Ayanna Pressley declared in 2023, “We’re here to make plain that constitutional equality is powerful, and equality is long overdue. How long have we been waiting? Too long!” The promise of Women’s Equality Day, and the ERA, remains unfulfilled—but the fight continues, fueled by the determination of generations past and present.