I might never have heard of Maud Nathan if I had not found these books, just as we know that too much of Jewish women's history has gone untold.

From 1980 on, the celebration of Women's History Week, and later, Women's History Month, spread to every state, every county, and most communities in the U.S.A.

This stone symbolizes for me the loving feminist reclamation of our great grandmothers' folkways.

The sound of applause—not just for me but for women rising to a position of power—reverberated through the hall, like the sound of an orchestra.

I never wanted to simply be a female rabbi. I want to be a part of a Judaism that is transformed by feminism.

As the commission delved into the issue, testimony it received from scholars showed that no Jewish legal barriers stood in the way of ordaining women.

We should not be dissuaded from seeking specifically Jewish and feminist perspectives on the most pressing issues of our time...

The facilitator was shocked when I informed her I could not possibly have an authentic experience or feel emotionally safe without more Jewish diversity.

The creativity unleashed by such questions was astonishing, and the interest and enthusiasm generated explosive.

Though the content of our mission is not specifically feminist, we have modeled feminist activism...

Within several months we determined that if any Jewish issue required political action, it was this one, the status of women.

I knew also that if this magnificent story had been “lost” for 90 years, much more must have also been lost.

It was feminism and humor that made me a cartoonist.

Twenty years ago, writing about Judaism from a feminist perspective, rather than discussing women from “Judaism's” point of view, seemed audacious.

I was rushing backward as fast as I could in order to get the shot of these proud and happy women energetically marching to the Houston convention center...

[W]e realized that the title “Women and their Bodies” was itself a sign of our alienation from our bodies.

In the late 1960s, I began a journey “out of the patriarchy” towards territory unknown.

I was making a conscious decision to change my primary identity from ‘Jewish radical feminism’ to ‘feminist Jew.’

My critique was two–pronged: what Orthodoxy and feminism could learn from each other.

We who seek liberation from the oppressive structures that deny us the same economic, educational, and spiritual opportunities as the privileged among us need each other.

Like my mother and her father, my grandfather, I was both a committed Jew and a feminist.

‘How can we include you in the circle?’ replaced the boundary line keeping the ‘abnormal’ out.

The demand for justice runs through the entirety of Jewish history and Jewish tradition.