My Moment

106 Women on Fighting for Themselves

Kristin Chenoweth, Kathy Najimy, Linda Perry, Chely Wright, Lauren Blitzer, Various

• Publisher: Gallery Books
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN: 9781982160920
• eBook ISBN: 9781982160937
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Social Science Biographies
• Index: Social Sciences

A collection of essays accompanied by beautiful black-and-white photography from a diverse group of women on the moment they realized they were ready to fight for themselves—including Gloria Steinem, Lena Waithe, Joanna Gaines, Brandi Carlile, Beanie Feldstein, Cynthia Erivo, and Billie Jean King, among others.

This powerful essay collection is a natural extension of the #MeToo movement, revealing the interior experience of women after they’ve inevitably been underestimated or hurt—the epiphany that the world is different than they thought it to be—and how they’ve used this knowledge to make change.

In My Moment, Gloria Steinem tells the story of how a meeting with writer Terry Southern drew blood. Carol Burnett shares how CBS discouraged her from pursuing The Carol Burnett Show, because comedy variety shows were “a man’s game.” Joanna Gaines reveals how coming to New York City as a young woman helped her embrace her Korean heritage after enduring racist bullying as a child. Author Maggie Smith details a career crossroads when her boss declined her request to work from home after the birth of her daughter, leading her to quit and never look back.

Over and over again, when told “no” these women said “yes” to themselves. This hugely inspiring, beautiful book will move people of all ages and make them feel less alone. More than the sum of its parts, My Moment is also a handbook for young women (or any woman) making their way through the world.

CHRISSIE HYNDE

Singer, Songwriter, and Musician (Founding Member of the Pretenders)

Born 1951 in Akron, OH

The moment I was born.

CLARE AKUMU

College Student and Activist

Born 1999 in Kampala, Uganda

At the age of thirteen, I was stricken with a serious illness, and one year later, I could no longer walk, run, or even stand. Still to this day, my doctors have not been able to define exactly what happened to my body or even why, but whatever it was, my life was changed forever.

In Uganda, girls’ education is not prioritized. Just two out of every ten girls graduate from high school. Many things contribute to this statistic: lack of resources, long-standing social norms that set low expectations for girls, high teenage pregnancy rates, and an inherent cultural standard that values boys over girls.

I happened to be one of the few girls in Uganda who attended school, but because of the complications from my illness, I had to stop going to school for a year. It was devastating.

I was in excruciating pain every minute of every day, especially my feet. I was also suffering emotionally. I vividly remember saying to myself, “Clare, you are in a terrible state.” I was overwhelmed with fear about how I would live with my new reality.

The illness continued to wreak havoc on me and I lost hearing in my right ear. As the saying goes, when it rains, it pours. I cried myself to sleep for months. I wallowed in some self-pity, but mostly, I had a lot of anger toward God. Every time I prayed, I asked just one question, “God, how could you?” Suicide crossed my mind more than it should have. I slipped into depression and began taking antidepressants, which likely saved my life.

I am the youngest of five children and because I have supportive and helpful parents and siblings, I was able to focus on getting better. After a long, hard year of physical therapy, I was able to learn how to walk again, which meant that I could return to school. I was overjoyed that I could attend school despite the pain that I was still going through. It was not easy, but I had my heart set on being back in the classroom.

Before I got sick, I’d never been a shy or timid girl, but the new version of me was uncertain. The illness had shattered my self-confidence, and when I returned to school, I quickly learned that I was the topic of negative comments from my classmates. I overheard some of the things they said and their words stayed with me. There was one statement that I will never erase from my mind—I can still hear it. “She walks like a chicken.”

How could someone say something so insensitive? I had worked so hard to walk again. I felt hurt and angry and disrespected. I struggled and failed to hold back the tears, but something happened as I cried over those insults. Through my tears, something clicked inside of me. The confident girl I’d always been, before I got sick, came roaring back with a fury. I made up my mind that if I was going to be the subject of their conversations, I would be a worthy subject. I would give them something to talk about.

The “chicken” mockery was my turning point, my moment, and I have never looked back. Yes, there are times when my disabilities bring great sadness, but my tenacity cannot be shaken. When leadership opportunities came my way, I jumped for them like a wild animal. I ran for class government positions and of course, I won with the majority votes. I graduated high school at the top of my class.

I also became an advocate for the silent majority who have not yet found their courage. I am a peer educator with Girl Up Initiative Uganda, an organization that supports young girls and women to thrive and lead, and that role has given me a space to grow and discover myself. Now I am awake to the truth that there’s so much potential in me that I can use to impact the lives of many women and girls with disabilities and also those without.

I’m now in college, pursuing my bachelor’s degree in business administration, and I’m more confident than ever before. My family and friends are great cheerleaders, supporting me every step of the way. Each and every day, I fall in love with who I am.

SAMANTHA BRENNER

Entrepreneur

Born 1975 in Tulsa, OK

Although I didn’t recognize it as a defining moment when it occurred, my “moment” happened when I was eleven years old and in middle school in Tulsa, Oklahoma. For whatever reason, I drew attention and criticism from a boy in my class who decided it would be fun to make me the object of his ridicule and bullying. No need to use his real name (it still makes me grimace), so I’ll just call him Tom Foolery (because that makes me smirk). At first, I didn’t pay much attention to the name-calling and jeers, and often returned Tom’s petty insults with a few zingers in tit-for-tat fashion. His bullying wasn’t the threatening kind; just the menacing kind and eventually escalated from verbal jabs. Really original stuff, like “accidentally” bumping into me, forcing me to crash aggressively against a bank of lockers, or “coincidentally” jutting a foot out as I rounded a corner, sending me (and my books) flying asunder to the floor. This was in the ’80s, when teachers and principals would leniently dismiss such behavior with a slap on the wrist or a warning because “boys will be boys.”

But one afternoon, as I sat down in my chair at my word processor to begin a typing test (requiring me to type a certain number of words per minute), I felt a burning sensation on the backs of my thighs. Reacting to my surprise and obvious discomfort, Tom couldn’t contain his laughter, and through his snorts squealed, “Get used to it—that’s where girls belong, glued to a typewriter!” Not wanting to attract the attention of the teacher or disrupt the entire class that was poised with their hands hovering over their keyboards, I attempted to discreetly readjust in my chair. When that proved unsuccessful, I tried to stand up but couldn’t, and commotion ensued. Tom had literally glued me to my chair—superglued me, to be exact. This time, the infraction earned him more than just a slap on the wrist. The classroom was emptied, and he got suspended before the female teacher who was summoned to help free me from my chair had even arrived with scissors and some kind of solution that I can still smell to this day. Thankfully, I was wearing gym shorts under my plaid uniform skirt (as most of us did back then), so I was slightly less humiliated as the extraction slowly unfolded.

That evening, my mother could see the embarrassment on my face and the insecurity taking hold within me as I considered the words Tom had said to me. Not on her watch. She reminded me that he was just a bully and that his insinuation was utterly absurd and insisted that I never consider myself lesser than a boy or man, or anyone else for that matter. I will always remember that day, not so much as the day Tom Foolery glued me to my chair and essentially told me I was destined to be a secretary simply because I was a girl, but as the day my mother unglued any and all gender stereotypes that might have crept into my subconscious, which could have ultimately limited my possibilities purely on the basis of my sex. It was the day I learned to always stand up for myself and others (even if I literally couldn’t).

After all that, as much as I wanted to push Tom into a locker or trip him or glue him to a chair, I didn’t. I did, however, accidentally strike a ball a little too high at him during a game of kickball in gym class and it happened to make contact with his nose. My aim was never and has never since been that good, so his nose truly was an unintended (and lucky) target. I did apologize as tears streamed down his face. Typing class was the next period, so I took joy in pointing out that at least he wasn’t glued to the floor. Whenever I used to think about him crying on the gymnasium floor, I’d shrug my shoulders, grant myself leniency for the inadvertent retaliation and quip, “Girls will be girls.” I know it’s not what Michelle Obama meant when she uttered her now-famous motto about negative influences, “When they go low, we go high,” but the irony does make me laugh.

MIYA LAO

Student

Born 2007 in Los Angeles, CA

People have always made fun of my height. In fourth grade, it bothered me, but my friends would always take care of me and tell me that I was perfect and I would laugh and joke around with them all the time and just have a blast. Toward the end of fifth grade, I grew tired of three people in particular calling me names. They were always mean to me and I tried to find out the reason why. After I graduated elementary school, I was super excited to become a sixth grader. I decided to completely ignore the name-calling and turned it around to think it was silly. Silly that people think it’s entertaining to make fun of people’s size or anything else they can think to pick on. That was my moment, realizing these people didn’t know me and didn’t care about me. I didn’t need to give them any more of my attention, because they weren’t my friends.

I’ve always loved to play softball and people say I’m really good at it. It makes me feel good about myself because they also say that my size makes me ten times better. They say I’m especially good at running since I’m so small. Also, my strike zone is small so pitchers couldn’t strike me out and I thought that those were also good qualities. If people called me names, I would come back at them. Not in a mean way but I would say something like, “Hey! Why are you picking on someone who never did anything to you?!” They would laugh and say, “Oh, maybe it’s because it’s easy to pick on the short kids.” Seriously? That’s what they thought? That made me think, Oh, because I’m shorter they can take my stuff and wave it above their heads. Idiots.

Softball helped me make tons of friends outside of school. When my school friends would fight or were mad at me or at each other or have drama with other people whom I had no clue about, I would go to softball practice and hang out with my softball friends. Of course I would always pay attention during practice, but at breaks we would talk, laugh, and have a good time. My softball ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Dear Reader
• 1. Chrissie Hynde
• 2. Clare Akumu
• 3. Samantha Brenner
• 4. Miya Lao
• 5. Leelee Groome
• 6. Adrienne Warren
• 7. Carmen LoBue
• 8. Kelli O’Hara
• 9. Brooke Baldwin
• 10. Aisha Tyler
• 11. Maya Wiley
• 12. Michaela Pereira
• 13. Joanna Gaines
• 14. Ferial Pearson
• 15. Anna Gifty Opoku-Agyeman
• 16. Orly Marley
• 17. Paola Ramos
• 18. Hetal Jani
• 19. Brandi Carlile
• 20. Daisy Fuentes
• 21. Kimberly Reed
• 22. Melissa Peterman
• 23. Janelle Murren
• 24. Marlo Thomas
• 25. Kristin Chenoweth
• 26. Jenna Ushkowitz
• 27. Mandana Dayani
• 28. Jennifer Esposito
• 29. Shakina Nayfack
• 30. Shoshana Bean
• 31. Emily Cain
• 32. Gloria Steinem
• 33. Debra Messing
• 34. Rosanna Arquette
• 35. Lynzy Lab
• 36. Kathy Najimy
• 37. S. E. Cupp
• 38. Rosanne Cash
• 39. Priyanka Patil
• 40. Tiffany Mann
• 41. Tonya Pinkins
• 42. Allison Russell
• 43. Rabia Chaudry
• 44. Zosia Mamet
• 45. Stephanie Yeboah
• 46. Mallory Manning
• 47. Ricki Lake
• 48. Lauren Blitzer
• 49. Yvette Burton
• 50. Mona Moriya
• 51. Lena Waithe
• 52. Chely Wright
• 53. Mary-Mitchell Campbell
• 54. Beanie Feldstein
• 55. Cynthia Erivo
• 56. Jennifer Valkana
• 57. Fortune Feimster
• 58. Soledad O’Brien
• 59. Amanda Freitag
• 60. Sophia Banks
• 61. Carol Burnett
• 62. Reba McEntire
• 63. Renée Fleming
• 64. Liz Lambert
• 65. Judy Seale
• 66. Tina Tchen
• 67. Stephanie Hopson
• 68. Ali Stroker
• 69. Jean Braden
• 70. Jill Fritzo
• 71. Maggie Smith
• 72. Rosie O’Donnell
• 73. SUCH
• 74. Felisa Ihly
• 75. aretha marbley
• 76. Riya Goel
• 77. Shannon Watts
• 78. Tracy Edwards
• 79. Billie Jean King
• 80. Mary L. Trump
• 81. Alice Peacock
• 82. Olivia Troye
• 83. Alicia Silverstone
• 84. Kyle Smitley
• 85. Sheryl Chinowth
• 86. Cyndi Lauper
• 87. Peppermint
• 88. Yasmeen Hassan
• 89. Chelsea Handler
• 90. MJ Rodriguez
• 91. Judy Mayfield
• 92. Sharon Diamond
• 93. Havana Chapman-Edwards
• 94. Becca Stevens
• 95. Meena Harris
• 96. Shannon Juby
• 97. Amika George
• 98. Dorris Walker-Taylor
• 99. Emily Saliers
• 100. Jann Arden
• 101. Celia Bell
• 102. Stacey Topkin
• 103. Barbara Gothard
• 104. Michelle Hurd
• 105. Linda Perry
• 106. Meg Stalter
• Acknowledgments
• Photo Credits
• Copyright