100 years later, the 19th Amendment matters now more than ever
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Attorney Soma Syed explains the importance of the 19th Amendment. Photo courtesy of Syed
By Soma Syed
On Aug. 18, 2020, the United States of America celebrated the 100th Anniversary of the 19th Amendment, which provides women the universal right to vote.
As an Asian and a woman of color, historically, I would not be eligible to fully exercise my right to vote until 1965.
All throughout history, women had to fight for their lives to breathe, to be seen, to be heard, to be counted, to matter, to believe, to be treated with dignity by their kinfolks, for space, for recognition, for equal pay, for promotion and for a chance.
This fight and struggle, contextualized by race, class, religion and other variables, continues to transform within the halls of Congress, Legislature, City Hall, universities, workspace, corporations and in the realm of motherhood.
Today, we fight to break the glass ceilings, against the explicit and implicit biases in hiring, promotion and recognition of women in the workspace.
Not too long ago, the standard question for a woman at a job interview was “Do you plan to have children?”
Apart from being discriminatory in nature, this brazen question reflects the interviewer’s failure to recognize that if his or her mother did not become pregnant, he or she would not be conducting the interview.
As women, we fight for leadership positions, for equal and better education and opportunities for our children regardless of economic and social barriers; as parents against drunk driving; as moms against federal storm-troopers and as sisters against domestic violence. But it is not the end! There is a new beginning, a new roar, a new song to be sung and heard so our stories and legacies may continue and not be trampled upon.
My mother was a trailblazer. She was born in a village in Bangladesh in the 1940s to a supportive father and enigmatic mother.
When my grandfather began sending my mother to school, the villagers rioted and created an uproar, at which time my grandfather abandoned his birthplace and settled in a town three miles away. My mother came from a middle class family.
My mother attended boarding school since primary school days. There were 20 other girls in her class year — they were the daughters and sisters of wealthy industrialists and government officials.
My mother struggled and never asked for a penny beyond what my grandfather gave her. She relied on a diet of puff rice, rice, lentil and occasionally a piece of fish or meat. She often shared how hard it was to eat the canteen food as the lentil and leftover rice would sometimes emit an unpleasant odor you normally would not expect in food. Nonetheless, she persevered and finished primary, middle, intermediate, and graduate studies.
My mother founded two high schools for girls. She dedicated 21 years of her life to teaching girls; convincing fathers, uncles and brothers to send their daughters, nieces and sisters to her schools or any school; and persuading ministers to fund her girls, schools and teachers, all while managing both a bureaucracy and a budding family with four young children.
Often, she would leave home without breakfast and return after a long tiring day to find us un-showered, missing in action, or too focused on the newest television series; so exhausted from the trials and tribulations of forging on in a world, where women were expected to be the obedient daughter, wife, mother, teacher and leader. She persevered.
Her greatest achievements in her adult life are her legacy in education; and in the latter 15 years of her life in the USA, her children. She sacrificed her identity, passion and career to elevate us to become strong leaders and advocates for the world and humanity.
When I heard the eloquent House floor discussion about the offensive remarks from U.S. Rep. Ted Yoho to U.S. Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, I realized that the fight is not over.
I too have experienced untenable and glaring opposition in my legal practice. I vividly recall the stares and obvious disbelief, which I sensed from others, both in the courtroom and my transactional practice that I, a young South Asian woman of color, could be an attorney rather than a party to the dispute. All this I was determined to confront because I am very much like both of my parents who, in various ways, zealously fought for the rights of women and girls.
Every woman who fought for our rights to vote or showed up at a meeting; every man who encouraged his daughters, sisters, nieces and friends, deserves a shout out. Every woman is an individual, but also a part of that woman’s father, brother, uncle, and friend. When you disrespect a Congresswoman in the halls of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, you disrespect every one of us — every woman in the world.
The casual respectability given Yoho by his comrades ensures normalization of the aggressive behavior by people who cannot withstand a healthy discourse. Today, there are individuals who continue fighting to keep women from exercising their rights and attempt to indirectly discourage women from assuming public office and civic duties. That is why the 19th Amendment matters more today than ever.
Neither my mother nor my father is alive to see their legacies in me. But they have been my biggest cheerleaders, my biggest supporters, and my biggest sources of strength. I dedicate this 100 years of Women’s Right to Vote to them; every mother, father, brother, uncle, friend and caretaker who has encouraged and stood by their women folks; every employer and mentor who has taken the helms to mentor a female colleague; and every organization that has taken the torch to fight for us and our right to exist, matter and vote so that we can control our own narrative and destiny.
I am stronger because of all of you. And a girl from a tiny village is able to dream big, thinking of all the possibilities to make the world a better place than the one she found.
Soma Syed is the president of the Queens County Women's Bar Association. She is a civil and criminal law attorney, community activist, a concerned human-being and a proud New Yorker. She deeply believes in embracing, speaking and charting one own’s narrative and story. When she is not practicing law, doing charity, nonprofit or community work, she enjoys nature and water.
The opinions shared are her own and do not reflect the views of any organization to which she belongs.
