Forever Feminists: Feminist from birth to 96
Today, we're closing our celebration of intergenerational feminism with a very special pairing of Feminist Press board members. Helene Goldfarb was a friend and classmate of FP founder Florence Howe and has been a member of the Feminist Press board since 1986. Norrell Edwards has been on the board since 2021 and is a professor of Black diaspora literature at LeMoyne College.
We spoke with Helene about her reflections on Feminist Press and the long arc of feminist history, and with Norrell about her recently born daughter, Noémi, and the feminist future she hopes she'll inherit.
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Helene Goldfarb
What brought you to Feminist Press? How did you first learn about the Press?
I was a sorority sister of Florence Howe at Hunter College in 1947–48. We became really good friends. Then she disappeared; she went off to Smith and got married and went to Wisconsin. There were several years in between when we didn’t see each other. Then I bumped into her at a department store in Manhattan one night and we reconnected as if we hadn’t been gone for several years. She introduced me to the Press and said that it was publishing books by and about women, and that there wasn’t a press like that. She was teaching at Goucher at the time, in the 70s, and her students said, “Where are the women writers?” and she couldn’t answer. I became a member of what was really a coop rather than a board in 1982, when the Press was at Old Westbury, and I’ve been involved ever since. Our first book was The Dragon and the Doctor, which was written by her former student. It was a good beginning.
Why do you think Feminist Press is important?
Because I think there are too many people who have a very strange view of what feminism is. They forget that men can be feminists, and I think that’s very important. We have made strides, but with Trump, he has such a strange view of women that he would like to do away with all of us, and he has taken away the NEA money Feminist Press has been getting. It’s very necessary for us to keep pushing ahead and publishing women’s literature that doesn’t get published around the world. Florence’s idea was that we bring it out, big publishers learn about it and find authors they’d never heard of, they take it over, and it becomes bigger and better. Just as she believed that you train young people to go into publishing and go into the bigger publishing places. This was an education thing—not just publishing books for people to read, but for people to learn. That’s very important, and that’s still what we have to do.
What does feminism mean to you?
Feminism means equality. It means everyone has the right to think what they want to think and do what they need to do, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else, and feminism doesn’t hurt anyone else. Men might think that it’s giving them a bad rap, but that’s not true at all. The fact that so many women have to go into the workforce, and men have to take over having to raise children, is a very big thing. It’s a very positive thing. So many of us growing up never saw our fathers because they worked so hard. My father worked close enough to the house so we had dinner together every night. That happens more now, I think.
Has your relationship to feminism changed over your lifetime? If so, how?
I think many more people have become interested in it. When you hear that Alan Alda was a feminist, that’s very exciting. When you hear that his wife was a poet and a feminist, that’s very vital. When you look at the names of all the people we recognize as feminists, all of that makes it so much more vital and important. My name doesn’t mean much to most people, but when you hear Alan Alda, it paints a picture of it that is different from what most people think. When most people think of feminism they think of Bella, Kennedy, all those women, but they don’t think of men.
What did you learn from the feminists who came before you?
There weren’t too many before me, I’m 96! I wouldn’t think of my mother as a feminist. She had very specific ideas of what women could and couldn’t do. But I didn’t even know the word until I came to college. I don’t think there was anyone before me.
Florence was a feminist role model, and Bella. I knew Bella very well. She and I would play a game “A my name is Alice, my husband’s name is Alan, we come from Albuquerque and we sell apples.”
What would you like younger generations of feminists to know about the movement and its history?
They have to know history. I listen to things and I say to myself, why don’t they know this. Then I realize no one teaches them about this. I think that younger women have to understand where we came from and how hard it was. Women didn’t get the right to vote until 1920. That’s unbelievable when you think about how we started in 1776. When my mother was growing up, women couldn’t get a credit card unless their husband signed for it. These are things that we have to teach, and some of our books have to tell them. If you don’t know the history, you take everything for granted, and there’s nothing we can take for granted. I’ve learned over the years that you have to fight for everything. My niece and my great-niece and great-great nephew is five and went on the Women’s March; he picked the slogan “Measles = no, science = yes.” That’s because his mother and his grandmother preach and teach this to him. If you don’t teach it to the kids. . . When I was growing up and South Pacific was playing, my favorite song was “You’ve Got to Be Taught.” That is the most important thing we can tell anybody. But also, the older generation has to listen to the younger generation.
Norrell Edwards (Noémi)
How would you like Noémi to learn about Feminist Press?
I guess in a way she has already had her first experiences of the Press. She has her little onesie. She has chimed in on some interviews already! So there are ways that she’s already a part of the work of the Press, unbeknownst to her. In terms of her first consciously being aware of the Press, once she gets old enough to read children’s books, that will be her first conscious engagement with the Press. In particular, I do really like Tatterhood. Reading her folktales from around the world speaks to the global perspective that I want to give her.
Why do you think Feminist Press is important?
Already Noémi wants to be included; already she believes in inclusivity. The belief in inclusivity of all voices is foundational to FP. I hope Noémi grows up to be a champion of that, and grows up to believe that her voice always deserves to be included. FP’s work highlighting feminist literature is incredibly important, especially in this moment, and I want Noémi to be aware of that legacy and the diverse voices FP supports and champions.
What does feminism mean to you?
For me, feminism is about equity and equality, and for me particularly, the legacy of Black feminism and their work making sure that everyone is brought to the table, that everyone’s ideas are shared and known. I think about the work of Audre Lorde; Toni Morrison, even as an editor; even the text—which I had before I knew it was an FP text—But Some of Us Are Brave, which worked to highlight the burgeoning fields of feminism and black feminism. I really think about that work from the 1970s and 1980s of making these ideas known and bringing that into praxis. In particular, feminism is not just an “ism” that comes out of academies—Black feminism was about connecting to the everyday person, making these ideas applicable to their life, building from that.
I hope for Noemi what it means to her is a better future. I hope that for her, in twenty years from now, we’re moving forward again. We’re in a time that feels like it’s moving backward in terms of women’s rights, queer rights. Not just thinking about equality, but safeguarding against hatred and harm. We’re at a time where that has become normalized, and it’s horrific. I hope for her that we’re able to have a change of tide here and that more people will identify with feminism and support the idea. Feminism has gotten a bad rap about being only about women’s rights, but men, too, need a relief from the patriarchy. Equity is for them as well. You read all these articles—men are in crisis, men have no friends—that’s all the patriarchy, and we don’t talk about that. I hope that that future can be a reality for her.
What do you hope Noémi learns from the feminists who came before her?
I hope she learns about the work that they’ve done for equality and equity. I hope she learns how to be kind and thoughtful and a better person. I think that feminism and inclusivity encourage you to understand other people’s lives and experiences and be better in tune with that. I hope she’s always open minded in that way, which I think is so critical for us in building an inclusive future. I hope she learns more about herself. I just finished listening to the end of Black Women Taught Us by Jenn M. Jackson, and she talks about how Black feminist texts shaped her own comfortability and sense of self. I hope for Noemi, too, she’ll feel a deep sense of self and who she is and where she comes from and her place in the world that is important. Too often marginalized communities feel like they don’t belong or spend too much time fighting their way to the table. I hope she doesn’t have to fight her way anywhere, but even if she does, that she has a sense of where she comes from and the brilliance and ingenuity that comes with that.
What do you want Noémi’s feminist legacy to be?
I want Noémi to leave whatever legacy feels right to her. I want her to be able to be her own person, and as her parent I want to support her in being whoever that is, as long it’s a good human being. I hope her legacy is building upon making her community or communities better. Improving upon them, supporting them, helping them. Her generation won’t look the same as ours, I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but I hope whatever she does is a help and support.
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