I have been feeling an unexpected amount of grief over the deaths, just days apart, of Gloria Steinem and Robin Morgan.

Perhaps the grief is partly generational. These women’s voices were part of the landscape of my young adulthood. They helped create the feminist movement that shaped the way I came to understand myself, my work, and the world.
But my grief for Robin Morgan is especially personal. When I was in my twenties, I read Going Too Far: The Personal Chronicle of a Feminist. I don’t remember every argument in the book now, but I remember what it felt like to read it. Morgan was giving language to experiences and ideas I was only beginning to understand. She wasn’t asking permission or making feminism comfortable. She was challenging assumptions about all sorts of things — women’s lives, sexuality, power, anger, work, all the ways women, and men, had been taught to see themselves.
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