How Women Won the Right to Vote—And What’s Next

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Old ballot box, phone with voting app, suffragette sign, confetti.
Old ballot box, phone with voting app, suffragette sign, confetti.

Women’s suffrage is straight-up wild when you think about it. I’m sprawled on my saggy couch in my Brooklyn shoebox apartment, surrounded by empty seltzer cans and a half-dead plant I keep forgetting to water. The air’s got this weird mix of burnt toast (yep, my fault again) and that damp city smell sneaking through the window. I’m flipping through this dog-eared library book on the 19th Amendment—way overdue, oops—and I’m just floored. Those women fought like hell so I could, what, scroll X and stress about voter registration? Like, how am I this bad at adulting when they were out here changing history?

Women’s Suffrage: The OG Girl Power Move

Okay, so back in the 1800s, women were basically told to shut up and let dudes vote. But Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and their crew were like, “Um, no thanks.” They started the suffrage movement, and it was messy as hell—think protests, arrests, and straight-up hunger strikes. I was reading about the Seneca Falls Convention (1848, I’m trying to sound smart here) in this National Park Service article, and I’m imagining these women in heavy dresses, sweating buckets, yelling for voting rights while people probably laughed at them.

Me? I can’t even keep my life together enough to mail a voter registration form on time. Last month, I legit lost my ID in a bodega and had to beg the clerk to check the lost-and-found. Meanwhile, these suffragettes were getting thrown in jail and force-fed. Makes my “I overslept” excuses feel like garbage.

A painting of a suffragette rally with women and a pigeon.
A painting of a suffragette rally with women and a pigeon.

Women’s Suffrage Didn’t Fix It All, Y’Know

Real talk: the 19th Amendment was huge, but it wasn’t a magic wand. I was at this overpriced coffee shop in Manhattan, eavesdropping (I’m nosy, sue me), and these two women were ranting about voter ID laws and long lines at polling places. It clicked: women’s suffrage didn’t mean equal access for everyone. Black women, Native women, Asian women—they were still screwed over by stuff like literacy tests and poll taxes way past 1920. This ACLU article spelled it out, and I felt like a total dummy for not getting it sooner.

Like, I voted last election, no sweat—my polling place was a quick subway ride. But I didn’t think about how some folks have to drive hours or deal with sketchy voter suppression tactics. I’m trying to learn, okay? Maybe hit up a voting rights rally or something. But I’m a mess, so we’ll see.

What’s Next for Women’s Suffrage? I’m Stressed

So, what’s the deal with women’s suffrage now? Or, like, voting rights in general? I’m no guru—just a chick with a laptop and a caffeine problem. But I was wandering through Prospect Park last week, dodging hyper squirrels and sweaty joggers, and saw this sticker on a bench: “Vote Like Your Life Depends on It.” Kinda does, right? We gotta keep pushing—easier voter access, no more gerrymandering nonsense. It’s a lot.

Here’s my game plan, if you wanna copy my homework:

  • Check your voter status. I forgot to update mine after moving and had a full-on panic attack. Vote.gov is your friend.
  • Talk voting rights with your crew. I brought it up at a dive bar last weekend, and yeah, I sounded like a dork, but people were into it.
  • Throw some cash at voting rights groups. I gave $10 to one last week. Felt like pocket change, but it’s better than nothing.
A cartoon image of women high-fiving in a polling station.
A cartoon image of women high-fiving in a polling station.

My Voting Fails and Women’s Suffrage Lessons

I’ve screwed up voting so many times, it’s embarrassing. In 2020, I showed up at the wrong polling place because I didn’t check the address. Waited in line for, like, an hour before a volunteer was like, “Uh, you’re way off.” I wanted to die. But it made me get my act together. Women’s suffrage didn’t come this far for me to flake out. I’ve got my polling place address taped to my fridge now—adulting win!

Also, I used to think voting was just for presidents. Big nope. Local stuff—city council, school boards—that’s where it’s at. I was in my building’s laundry room last week (it smells like wet socks, gross), and my neighbor was hyped about a local vote. Made me realize women’s suffrage is about showing up for every election, not just the sexy ones.

Wrapping Up My Women’s Suffrage Rant

Look, women’s suffrage is a big freaking deal, and I’m still processing how it shapes my life. I’m sitting here, coffee gone cold, my cat giving me the stink-eye for ignoring her. I’m so grateful for those women who fought for my vote, but I’m also antsy. How do we make sure everyone gets a say? I’m no suffragette—I’m a hot mess—but I’m trying, okay?

A woman's hand putting a ballot in a box, a suffragette ghost cheering.
A woman’s hand putting a ballot in a box, a suffragette ghost cheering.
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