Tributes to Gloria Steinem are flooding in, from Hollywood to Capitol Hill

The death of Gloria Steinem closes a chapter in the long struggle for gender equality, but her influence will ripple through generations. Steinem was never just an icon; she was a strategist, a writer, and a bridge-builder who understood that lasting change requires both grassroots organizing and high-level advocacy. Her co-founding of *Ms. Magazine* gave women a platform to voice their own stories, and her unflinching critiques of patriarchy, capitalism, and racism challenged both the left and the right to do better. In an era of deep political division, her passing offers a rare moment of bipartisan reflection—though the tributes themselves reveal how contested her legacy remains in some corners. Steinem's career was marked by contradictions that mirror the broader feminist movement. She was a glamorous media figure who also spent years on the road speaking to small groups in rural communities. She championed the Equal Rights Amendment, yet also critiqued the limitations of legal reform alone. Her later work on intersectionality, influenced by bell hooks and other Black feminists, showed a willingness to evolve—something not every activist of her generation managed. That evolution, however, also drew criticism from those who felt she was too accommodating to corporate power or too slow to center marginalized voices. These tensions are not failures; they are the honest record of a movement in progress. Politically, Steinem's legacy is claimed by both progressive and moderate factions. Her support for Hillary Clinton in 2016 and her later critique of “Bernie bros” alienated some young leftists, while her early opposition to the Vietnam War and her radical roots still unsettle conservatives. Yet her core demands—equal pay, reproductive freedom, an end to sexual violence—have become mainstream, even if the implementation remains incomplete. The tributes from both Democratic and Republican lawmakers (though fewer from the latter) suggest that her moral authority transcended party lines, even when her policy prescriptions did not. That is the mark of a figure who changed the terms of the debate, not just the outcomes. What is most striking in the flood of remembrances is the personal tone. Many women—and men—speak of Steinem's generosity, her habit of listening more than talking, and her knack for making people feel seen. That human quality is often lost in the myth-making that follows a public death. But it matters because it reveals how she built a movement: through relationships, not just rallies. As we mourn her, we might also ask ourselves whether the current feminist movement, often fragmented and online-driven, can replicate that kind of sustained, face-to-face solidarity. Ultimately, Steinem's death is not an end but a challenge. The issues she fought for—bodily autonomy, economic justice, racial equality—remain urgent, and the political climate is arguably more polarized than at any point in her adult life. Her words from 2015, “The future depends entirely on what each of us does every day,” now feel like a parting instruction. Whether we honor her memory through legislative victories, grassroots activism, or simply by treating each other with more respect, the measure of her legacy will be in our actions, not our eulogies.