Perspective: The future of feminism is maternal — and it always has been

Yahoo

10-05-2025

In the unfolding story of the global women's movement, we often hear of 'waves' — distinct periods of struggle, change and progress. And indeed, each wave has brought with it hard-fought advances for women's rights: the right to vote, the right to work, the right to define our own lives.
But there's a quieter, often overlooked legacy that has flowed beneath each wave like a deep ocean current — the legacy of maternal feminism.
Maternal feminism is not a call to return to rigid gender roles or domestic confinement. Quite the opposite: this is a powerful declaration that the qualities traditionally associated with motherhood — nurturing, protecting, lifting and leading with love — are not signs of weakness. They are sources of strength. And they are desperately needed in the world today.
Women like Marian Wright Edelman embody this spirit — a civil rights activist who founded the Children's Defense Fund. Or Nellie McClung, one of Canada's most prominent suffragists. Neither asked for power for its own sake — they rose because their maternal instincts compelled them to serve broader communities.
As Nellie McClung once said, 'I am a believer in women, in their ability to do things and in their influence and power. Women set the standards for the world, and it is for us to set the standards high.'
These foremothers weren't anomalies. They are the spiritual grandmothers of maternal feminism — a global movement of faith-filled, family-centered women who believe that they are powerful not despite our maternal gifts, but because of them.
Creating life is not only about giving birth, however miraculous that truly is. And when we say 'maternal,' we are not only referring to women with children. We're also speaking of a maternal way of being — a capacity to see and fill needs, to nurture, and to lead with fierce compassion. This includes women who mother communities, mentor youth, and tend to their neighbors — all intentional women who shape our culture for the better.
As Rebecca Walker, author of Choosing Motherhood After a Lifetime of Ambivalence, shared, 'Becoming a mother has made me a better person. It has humbled me, made me more compassionate, more patient, and more present. It has expanded my capacity for love in ways I never imagined.'
And yet, even as we recognize the miracle of mothers, we must also acknowledge their pain. Many mothers today aren't just raising children— they're doing it alone, and through tremendous obstacles.
Many over the years have emphasized mothering as an engine that drives the world and a power that sustains humanity - echoing the poet, William Ross Wallace, who wrote, 'The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.'
When we reject this truth, it is not empowerment—it is the ultimate erasure of women. It's also a further unraveling of the human family itself.
Throughout the world, support systems that once sustained motherhood— extended families, neighbors, churches — have eroded significantly, leaving many women to navigate parenting, work, and personal needs in isolation. This fragmentation has led not only to exhaustion but to a quiet crisis: the loss of confidence in maternal instinct. Many women have been left doubting their natural capacity to nurture, sensing that society no longer honors or upholds their role.
Is it any wonder that birth rates are falling at an alarming rate? In many places, the future of entire nations is at risk — not from war or disease, but from a collective refusal to welcome and raise the next generation. Maternal feminism offers a hopeful path forward by restoring motherhood to its rightful place as a shared social responsibility, not a private struggle. It calls us to reweave the fabric of family and community, where mothers are no longer isolated but supported, encouraged, and strengthened by one another.
When we lift mothers, we fortify the foundation of society itself, recognizing that nurturing the next generation is not just a personal role but a sacred, collective calling.
Author and motherhood advocate Erica Komisar emphasizes, 'Motherhood is the most important job in the world. This important job builds the human beings who will shape every corner of society. And that formation begins in the arms of a fully awake and empowered mother.'
'In an age where motherhood is often sidelined in the name of progress,' Komisar adds, we need 'a feminism that honors a mother's presence as essential to a child's emotional foundation and (that) values nurturing as a radical act of societal healing.'
For too long, popular culture has viewed our biological uniqueness as inconvenient or irrelevant — a liability at worst, and an afterthought at best. We need a feminism that speaks to real women's lives and needs - one that doesn't require us to reject our uniquely female bodies, our femininity, motherhood, families, or faith to lead and influence.
Ironically, many modern feminist stances overlook the lived realities of women across cultures, faiths, and socioeconomic backgrounds, often dismissing the vital, unseen work done in homes and hearts in favor of what happens in boardrooms and ballots. A broader feminist view takes seriously what's happening in homes, houses of worship, and the quiet strength of women everywhere — not to dominate or divide, but to serve and heal.
Maternal feminism offers a path to truly elevate the status of women in ways that resonate globally. In places where traditional feminism feels out of touch or overly politicized, maternal feminism speaks a language people understand: family, community, compassion, creation, service, resilience, and strength.
Our homes, churches, and communities need maternal leaders—women who lead with love, gather with purpose, and counsel with wisdom. These women know true power isn't granted by protest or policy, but by God Himself, who declares, 'You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you.' This kind of leadership, rooted in divine identity and internal approval, doesn't just shift policy — it transforms culture. And cultural transformation is what truly changes everything.
This is not a fringe idea or a niche movement. It's a global reality happening all over the world today. According to Pew Research, over 83% of the world's women identify with a religious tradition. For many of us, that faith is not incidental and optional — it is integral and central. When feminism forgets this, it becomes a movement for an only a few.
Thankfully there are women around the world who organize not with rage but with reason. Those who act not to deconstruct but to build. Who carry forward the legacy of maternal feminism not as a relic of the past, but as the blueprint for our shared future.
This vision of feminism honors our differences without division; it honors our embodied reality as women, and embraces the spiritual depth that so often grounds our lives. No one is required to choose between public influence and private nurture. Rather, we can remain rooted in the belief that the home is the foundation of every society, and healing the world begins right there, around dinner tables and bedside prayers.
We, as mothers of faith, are not just another wave. We are the ocean — a vast, deep, steady force of women who believe in our divine identity, in the eternal value of families, and in our maternal call to lift and love.
In the end, feminism isn't just about what we achieve. It's about what we become — and what we inspire others to become in the process. The next chapter of feminism in the world will happen not by discarding our maternal power, but by reclaiming it.
Because the future of feminism is maternal.
And it always has been.