Reflections on Life and Legacy
Everything that lives will ultimately meet its end. In the vigor of youth, the thought of our mortality, well, it seems distant. This often leads us to a sort of confidence, maybe even cockiness, where we dismiss the weight of regret. It’s that regret—the kind that, at life’s twilight, offers clarity about what truly matters.
At the moment, two women are making headlines. One is Gloria Steinem, the renowned writer and journalist who recently passed away at 92, while the other, Lindsay Clancy, is currently on trial in Massachusetts for allegedly murdering her three children.
It’s intriguing, isn’t it? This trial, which has, in some moments, felt like a rally for women’s rights. Will it end up portraying a mother struggling with postpartum depression as a sort of feminist figure?
Steinem was undoubtedly a feminist trailblazer during the tumultuous 1960s and ’70s, a time when being such wasn’t exactly fashionable. She dedicated her life to redefining concepts of peace, justice, and racial equality while actively advocating for women’s liberation, which predominantly came to mean a woman’s right to choose regarding her offspring.
Although a cherished activist to many, there’s a perspective that Steinem’s vision of equality viewed men, marriage, and parenting as potential obstacles that could hold a woman back from greatness.
Back in 1969, at an abortion rally, Steinem heard numerous stories from women regarding their experiences; and, during that period in the U.K., abortions were illegal unless a woman’s health was at risk. It raises the question—are we currently in a situation where the severity of child murder might be minimized if mental illness is cited as a motive?
Interestingly, Steinem respected a doctor who, much like Henry VIII granting Anne Boleyn’s fate, approved her choice to terminate her pregnancy. This doctor referred her to someone who would perform the procedure.
In her own words, regarded now as brave, Steinem was asked to keep the doctor’s name a secret and was told: “First, you won’t reveal my identity. Second, you will pursue what you desire in life.”
Decades later, Steinem memorialized this doctor in her memoir, “My Life on the Road,” expressing admiration for him, Dr. John Sharpe.
During this phase of her life, she was seen as a fierce advocate for abortion rights, framing it as “reproductive freedom”—a term she believed would make the discussion more acceptable in politics, a phrase still prevalent in today’s abortion debates.
However, with Steinem’s passing, her legacy now seems to reflect a life largely spent underplaying the sanctity of life in favor of a woman’s right to terminate her pregnancy.
Gloria Steinem will be revered as a role model for women who believe that liberation involves the right to end life in the womb.
When her death was announced, it was noted that she “died peacefully in her New York City home, surrounded by those who loved her.” It’s quite striking to think about someone departing this world so calmly after a lifetime of advocating for the end of unborn lives.
The harsh reality is that the “many who loved her” were probably not including a son or daughter who might have been around 70 years old had their lives not been cut short. The official announcement omitted whether she finally felt the regret she claimed to have been unable to feel for 69 years regarding the choice she made in the name of ambition.
So, as she reflected on her life, did her child ever cross her mind, even fleetingly, before stepping into eternity?
Her contributions to the feminist movement concerning a woman’s right to determine life within her are undoubtedly part of her story.
Fast-forward nearly seven decades since Steinem’s clandestine abortion, and we see another woman, potentially poised to be a trailblazer for mothers’ rights, appearing in a Plymouth, Massachusetts courtroom. Back when Steinem made her fateful choice, abortion was prohibited unless a woman was mentally or physically unwell. Nowadays, mental health issues are considered a defense in a case where a mother is accused of killing three children.
This situation mirrors the solidarity Steinem found in 1969, when women gathered to share their struggles with what felt like a lack of understanding. In Clancy’s trial, the focus isn’t solely on her children as victims but rather on whether her mental state can absolve her. If she was mentally sound, she’s guilty; if mental illness was a factor, then perhaps she could be let off the hook.
This raises a disconcerting thought: what about the children? What terror did they experience at the hands of their mother—whatever her reasons might have been—when she deemed they no longer had a right to live?
What’s the difference, really, between what Lindsay Clancy did and Gloria’s youthful decision to prioritize her ambition over her child’s life?
When we consider the broader implications, it’s crucial to examine the impact of Steinem’s advocacy for over 65 million unborn children and to ponder how Clancy’s case might challenge the narrative about the right to life—both for those inside and outside the womb.
Steinem certainly changed how this nation views abortion. If Clancy’s case opens the door for postpartum psychosis as a justification for killing three children, how far are we willing to let this reasoning stretch?
Should the progressive tendency to excuse the termination of unborn children find its way to children who’ve already been born, the implications of Clancy’s case could potentially erode the right to life even further than Steinem’s efforts ever did.
Gloria Steinem has passed, but Lindsay Clancy is very much present. It’ll be fascinating to observe if this trial, which sometimes feels like a women’s rally, could elevate Clancy—dealing with postpartum challenges—into a symbol of feminism that could shift the narrative from justifying child murder to seeking any rationale for ending human life as society demands.
Steinem’s influence on cultural change is concluded. The repercussions of cases like Lindsay Clancy’s may just be starting.
