Persuasive Acts

Women's Rhetorics in the Twenty-First Century

Shari Stenberg, Charlotte Hogg, Shari Stenberg, Charlotte Hogg

• Editorial: University of Pittsburgh Press
• Año: 2020
• ISBN:
  9780822987512
• Categoría: Languages & Linguistics
• Categoría: Linguistics

In June 2015, Bree Newsome scaled the flagpole in front of South Carolina's state capitol and removed the Confederate flag. The following month, the Confederate flag was permanently removed from the state capitol. Newsome is a compelling example of a twenty-first-century woman rhetor, along with bloggers, writers, politicians, activists, artists, and everyday social media users, who give new meaning to Aristotle's ubiquitous definition of rhetoric as the discovery of the "available means of persuasion." Women's persuasive acts from the first two decades of the twenty-first century include new technologies and repurposed old ones, engaged not only to persuade, but also to tell their stories, to sponsor change, and to challenge cultural forces that repress and oppress. Persuasive Acts: Women's Rhetorics in the Twenty-First Century gathers an expansive array of voices and texts from well-known figures including Hillary Rodham Clinton, Malala Yousafzai, Michelle Obama, Lindy West, Sonia Sotomayor, and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, so that readers may converse with them, and build rhetorics of their own. Editors Shari J. Stenberg and Charlotte Hogg have complied timely and provocative rhetorics that represent critical issues and rhetorical affordances of the twenty-first century.

I

Rhetorics of Civic Engagement

The classical tradition of oratory located rhetoric in three primary branches: the legislature, the courtroom, and houses of worship. In these spheres, great (read: privileged) men held forth to persuade, defend or accuse, and praise (or blame) other men. Women were most often relegated to the private sphere, deemed unworthy of the high pursuits of civic engagement and denied a public voice.

In the twenty-first century, no laws (in the United States) prevent women from holding public office, but the residue of these ancient beliefs remains. Yet this has not stopped the women whose work appears in the pages ahead. Many, in fact, are “firsts” in their respective judicial or political roles. And while the ordination of women remains controversial even in the twenty-first century, this section features powerful contributions by female religious leaders. Of course, sites of civic engagement now extend far beyond the legislature, courtroom, and places of worship, so these texts also include women’s rhetoric on sites ranging from newspaper opinion pages to Twitter. While the rhetorical contexts and professions of the rhetors in this section vary, each finds available means to work both within and against the contexts of civic engagement that once excluded them.

Opening this section is the speech that Hillary Clinton, the first female major party nominee for president, made at the 2016 Democratic National Convention. She challenges rhetoric and policy that valorizes individualism, instead articulating a collective vision for governing that insists we are “stronger together.” Shirin Ebadi, the first female judge in Iran, works from a similar collective-oriented ethos, wielding her rhetorical acumen and knowledge of Islamic law to support a women’s rights group in Iran. Jeannette Urquilla, the executive director of a human rights organization in El Salvador, uses her platform to illuminate how women experience the devastating effects of her country’s total ban on abortion. Speaking on the floor of Congress, Nancy Pelosi, the first female Speaker of the House of Representatives, takes on her Republican colleagues to argue for maintaining the Affordable Health Care Act, passed during the Obama administration. She articulates the stakes in privileging profits for insurance companies over collective responsibility to the American people.

The civic leaders in this section also refuse a division between logic and emotion, delivering arguments that seamlessly synthesize reason and passion. Justice Sonia Sotomayor, the first Latinx appointed to the Supreme Court, writes a vehement dissenting opinion that insists unlawful police stops are anything but “isolated” incidents. Enacting Audre Lorde’s famous claim that anger “focused with precision” can fuel change, Representative Maxine Waters minces no words or fury in taking the Trump administration to task for separating parents from their children at the US-Mexico border.

Rhetors in this section also use testimony and witness to intervene in civic conversations. In a campaign speech for Hillary Clinton, First Lady Michelle Obama describes being “shaken to her core” by Donald Trump’s glib statement about grabbing women. Jennifer Bailey, a Christian minister, calls us to bear witness to the violence and pain inflicted on the black community. Emma Gonzalez, a founder of the gun control movement Never Again, testifies to the grief and pain she and her classmates endured as survivors of a school shooting. Rabbi Sharon Brous extends this trope, insisting that the conflict between Jerusalem and Palestine will be resolved only through a mutual witnessing of one another’s humanity. Lezley McSpadden, the mother of Michael Brown, an unarmed black teenager shot by a police officer, testifies to the unending grief a mother endures in losing her child. For each of these rhetors, compassionate recognition of human suffering is a vital step toward its rectification.

Unfortunately, women’s entry into public spheres is still often met with resistance. Consequently, women’s rhetorical work often involves challenging the forces that deny them voice and agency. To this end, Cathy de la Cruz, Keegan Osinski, and Caroline Madden use humorous memes on Twitter to call out mansplaining as a form of silencing or dismissing women. In the wake of the #MeToo movement, the Lutheran minister Bolz-Weber argues that it is heresy to use the Bible to support the dominance of one group over another. The writer and comedian Lindy West addresses the relentless harassment women face in online forums in a podcast, where she confronts a man who trolled her.

In the twenty-first century, advocates for fuller—and more accurate—representation of women in the public sphere remind us, “You can’t be what you can’t see.” Our hope is that the rhetorical acts in this section will invite more women forward, changing and challenging the public discourse in law, politics, and religion. The quality of civic life depends on the contribution and representation of all members of the public, particularly those whose presence and perspectives have, for too long, been overlooked.

Hillary Rodham Clinton

As Hillary Rodham Clinton stepped to the podium to accept the Democratic Party’s nomination for president, she faced a daunting rhetorical task: to audition as the first female president of the United States. Clinton had to convince Americans not only that she was the right person for the job but that the right person for the job was a woman.

For Clinton, who had by 2016 held public roles for twenty-five years—as First Lady to President Bill Clinton, then senator of New York, then secretary of state during the Obama administration—this task involved cutting through decades of cultural narratives spun about her, which were sometimes positive, but more often harshly critical. Writes the New York Times correspondent Mark Leibovich, the phrase polarizing figure is never far from her name. But as Leibovich further explains, Clinton has also been polarized by a culture that hasn’t known what to do with her as a feminist First Lady, who played an active political role in her husband’s administration; as a wife who remained with her husband after his much-publicized affair with a twenty-two-year-old White House intern; or as woman, with her own ambitions to run for senate and then president.

Public discussion of her marriage, her feminism, and even her hair and pant-suits often overshadowed her many achievements as a public servant. As First Lady, Clinton collaborated with both parties to establish the Children’s Health Insurance Program. She saw New York through 9/11 as a twice-elected senator and established a reputation among her fellow legislators as a hard worker, an attuned listener, and a bridge-builder across the political aisle (Davis). After losing the 2008 Democratic presidential nomination to Barack Obama, she accepted a cabinet position as secretary of state, serving as an ambassador for women’s rights around the globe and improving the United States’ international reputation. As Obama put it in his 2016 DNC address, “I can say with confidence there has never been a man or a woman—not me, not Bill [Clinton], nobody—more qualified than Hillary Clinton to serve as president of the United States of America.”

Her qualifications, though, did not guarantee an easy path to the 2016 nomination. Vermont senator Bernie Sanders proved a fierce rival. Running on a progressive platform, he framed Clinton as an “establishment candidate” (Bordo). But as the feminist scholar Susan Bordo observes, Clinton’s caution must be read in the context of decades of harsh schooling from the media, who chastised her for being too “shrill” on one hand, or unemotional and cold on the other. Citing the powerful role of gender in politics, CNN’s Frida Ghitis writes, “Women candidates . . . face the daunting challenge of being strong without losing their ability to be liked.”

Even with the nomination secure, Clinton had to use her DNC speech to make an appeal for acceptance from Sanders’s supporters. “I’ve heard you. Your cause is our cause,” she promises. She then moves to reintroduce herself, acknowledging that her relationship with the public has not been an easy one.

The speech gives those in the room, and the international audience listening, a new chance to meet Hillary Rodham Clinton—to decide what they will make of the first female major party nominee for president of the United States. In her characteristic deliberate, methodical manner, she tells her story; it is not a story, however, of individual accomplishments. Instead, it features the feminist values of coalition building, collaboration, and recognition of all who play a role in political change. “Our founders fought a revolution and wrote a Constitution so America would never be a nation where one person had all the power,” Clinton forwards, showing that her message of collaboration is as deep and abiding as our history. Even the white suit she donned that evening was a nod to the US suffragists who came before her.

As for serving as the woman to receive a major party presidential nomination, she reminds the audience that this success benefits all: “When any barrier falls in America, for anyone, it clears the way for everyone. When there are no ceilings, the sky’s the limit.” While the election results would show that the ceiling had not yet broken, Clinton nevertheless carved an indelible pathway for the future first female president of the United States.

Remarks at the Democratic National Convention

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 2016

Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you all so much. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you all very, very much. Thank you for that amazing welcome. Thank you all for the great convention that we’ve had.

And, Chelsea, thank you. I am so proud to be your mother and so proud of the woman you’ve become. Thank you for bringing Marc into our family and Charlotte and Aidan into the world. And, Bill, that conversation we started in the law library forty-five years ago, it is still going strong.

That conversation has lasted through good times that filled us with joy and hard times that tested us. And I’ve even gotten a few words in along the way. On Tuesday night, I was so happy to see that my explainer-in-chief is still on the job. (Applause.) I’m also grateful to the rest of my family and to the friends of a lifetime.

For all of you whose hard work brought us here tonight and to those of you who joined this campaign this week, thank you. What a remarkable week it’s been. We heard the man from Hope [Hope, Arkansas], Bill Clinton; and the man of hope, Barack Obama. America is stronger because of President Obama’s leadership, and I am better because of his friendship.

We heard from our terrific vice president, the one and only Joe Biden. He spoke from his big heart about our party’s commitment to working people as only he can do.

And First Lady Michelle Obama reminded us that our children are watching and the president we elect is going to be their president, too.

And for those of you out there who are just getting to know Tim Kaine, you—you will soon understand why the people of Virginia keep promoting him from city council and mayor, to governor, and now senator. And he will make our whole country proud as our vice president. And I want to thank Bernie Sanders. Bernie. Bernie, your campaign inspired millions of Americans, particularly the young people who threw their hearts and souls into our primary. You put economic and social justice issues front and center, where they belong.

And to all of your supporters here and around the country, I want you to know I have heard you. Your cause is our cause. Our country needs your ideas, energy, and passion. That is the only way we can turn our progressive platform into real change for America. We wrote it together. Now let’s go out and make it happen together.

My friends, we’ve come to Philadelphia, the birthplace of our nation, because what happened in this city 240 years ago still has something to teach us today. We all know the story, but we usually focus on how it turned out, and not enough on how close that story came to never being written at all. When representatives from thirteen unruly colonies met just down the road from here, some wanted to stick with the king, and some wanted to stick it to the king.

The revolution hung in the balance. Then somehow they began listening to each other, compromising, finding common purpose. And by the time they left Philadelphia, they had begun to see themselves as one nation. That’s what made it possible to stand up to a king. That took courage. They had courage. Our founders embraced the enduring truth that we are stronger together.

Now America is once again at a moment of reckoning. Powerful forces are threatening to pull us apart. Bonds of trust and respect are fraying. And just as with our founders, there are no guarantees. It truly is up to us. We have to decide whether we will all work together so we can all rise together. Our country’s motto is e pluribus unum: out of many, we are one. Will we stay true to that motto?

Well, we heard Donald Trump’s answer last week at his convention. He wants to divide us from the rest of the world and from each other. He’s betting that the perils of today’s world will blind us to its unlimited promise. He’s taken the Republican Party a long way from “Morning in America” to “Midnight in America.” He wants us to fear the future and fear each other.

Well, a great Democratic president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, came up with the perfect rebuke to Trump more than eighty years ago, during a much more perilous time: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

Now we are clear-eyed about what our country is up against, but we are not afraid. We will rise to the challenge, just as we always have. We will not build a wall. Instead, we will build an economy where everyone who wants a good job can get one. And we’ll build a path to citizenship for millions of immigrants who are already contributing to our economy. We will not ban a religion. We will work with all Americans and our allies to fight and defeat terrorism.

Yet, we know there is a lot to do. Too many people haven’t had a pay raise since the crash. There’s too much inequality, too little social mobility, too much paralysis in Washington, too many threats at home and abroad.

But just look for a minute at the strengths we bring as Americans to meet these challenges. We have the most dynamic and diverse people in the world. We have the most tolerant and generous young people we’ve ever had. We have the most powerful military, the most innovative entrepreneurs, the most enduring values—freedom and equality, justice and opportunity. We should be so proud that those words are associated with us. I have to tell you, as your secretary of state, I went to 112 countries. When people hear those words, they hear America.

So don’t let anyone tell you that our country is weak. We’re not. Don’t let anyone tell you we don’t have what it takes. We do. And most of all, don’t believe anyone who says, “I alone can fix it.” Yes. Those were actually Donald Trump’s words in Cleveland. And they should set off alarm bells for all of us. Really? “I alone can fix it?” Isn’t he forgetting troops on the front lines, police officers and firefighters who run toward danger, doctors and nurses who care for us? Teachers who change lives, entrepreneurs who see possibilities in every problem, mothers who lost children to violence and are building a movement to keep other kids safe? He’s forgetting every last one of us. Americans don’t say, “I alone fix can it.” We say, “We’ll fix it together.”

And remember. Remember. Our founders fought a revolution and wrote a Constitution so America would never be a nation where one person had all the power. Two hundred and forty years later, we still put our faith in each other. Look at what happened in Dallas. After the assassinations of five brave police officers, Police Chief David Brown asked the community to support his force, maybe even join them. And do you know how the community responded? Nearly five hundred people applied in just twelve days.

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