The Worth of a Woman in America Today
Sometime in the early 1970s, my mother encouraged me to become a page at the White House. The closest she had ever come to discussing sex with me was leaving a book in the linen closet for me to discover. There were no conversations about reproduction, sexual relationships, or how to protect myself physically or emotionally. None of that. Yet here she was, encouraging her teenage daughter to go to Washington, with a casual warning that dealing with sexually aggressive men was simply part of entering the working world.
I don't believe she intended to frighten me. She wanted me to pursue an opportunity she thought might open doors. But her warning scared me away.
I believed my generation would change that bargain and that my daughter would inherit something better. More than fifty years later, I'm no longer so certain.
We tell our daughters they can become anything they want. But when a woman reports rape or a girl accuses a powerful man of sexual exploitation, our promises of equality can disappear remarkably quickly.
Andrew and Tristan Tate have attracted millions of followers promoting male dominance and the degradation of women. Both face serious allegations of rape, sexual assault and human trafficking in multiple countries. Both deny wrongdoing. Yet their influence raises troubling questions about what young men are being taught concerning the worth of women.
Jeffrey Epstein sexually exploited underage girls while cultivating relationships with some of the world's wealthiest and most influential people. His remarkably lenient 2008 plea agreement became a symbol of unequal justice. He died in federal custody in 2019. Ghislaine Maxwell was convicted and sentenced to twenty years in prison.
Public fascination revolves around Epstein's famous acquaintances, while the girls he exploited are no longer the center of the story. Many came from families struggling financially. Some thought they were simply going to earn a little money giving an older man an innocent massage. Instead, they became victims of sexual exploitation.
How can an administration tell Americans to “move on” from Jeffrey Epstein when, apart from Ghislaine Maxwell, no one else has been held criminally accountable for participating in his sexual exploitation and trafficking of underage girls? And then Maxwell is transferred to a less restrictive federal prison. That is the final dagger, not just to Epstein's victims, but to women across this country. It's not rocket science.
THE GIRLS WHO BROUGHT HOME THE GOLD
Epstein preyed on vulnerable girls. Larry Nassar preyed on girls America celebrated.
For years, the physician entrusted with caring for America's elite gymnasts sexually abused girls and women under the guise of medical treatment. Hundreds came forward, including Olympic champions. These were our athletes, standing on Olympic podiums draped in the American flag while the national anthem played. We celebrated their medals. But when they needed protection, where was that same national pride?
Warnings went unheeded. The FBI received allegations in 2015 but failed to respond appropriately, and approximately seventy more girls and women were abused during the resulting delay.
Olympic gold medalist McKayla Maroney later testified before the Senate about the FBI's failures: “They betrayed me, they betrayed my trust.” Nassar was convicted, and settlements eventually totaled more than a billion dollars. But the money came after the abuse. No settlement can restore a stolen childhood.
HOW MANY DOES IT TAKE?
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, more than one in five American women has experienced completed or attempted rape during her lifetime. There is no safety in numbers.
Riddle me this: How many does it take? Ten? Fifty? Five hundred? Must an entire army of women come forward before their accounts receive the same urgency we devote to protecting an institution's reputation or a powerful man's interests?
THE COLLEGE CAMPUS IS NO IVORY TOWER
How can we convince our daughters that they are valued in American society when, even on a college campus in 2026, a young woman can report an alleged gang rape involving seven men and, nearly two years later, not a single criminal charge has been filed?
The Cornell student alleges she was drugged and gang-raped in 2024. Cornell conducted an internal investigation, disciplined students and closed the fraternity chapter. Following national publicity, the university announced a suspension of fraternity parties and social events through the end of the academic year. Think about that: allegations involving seven men, and the most visible new response nearly two years later is a temporary ban on fraternity parties.
I have seen that imbalance firsthand. For twenty years, I have advocated for families confronting campus sexual assault. That work began when my daughter reported being raped at Indiana University in June 2006.
I think of Lizzy Seeberg. In 2010, the nineteen-year-old reported that a Notre Dame football player had sexually assaulted her. The Seebergs lived in a community neighboring mine, and I reached out after Lizzy's death.
After her report, Lizzy received intimidating communications from a friend of the accused player, including warnings that challenging Notre Dame football was a bad idea. Nine days after reporting the alleged assault, Lizzy died by suicide. Notre Dame police interviewed the accused player five days after her death. I have never forgotten that family.
My own family encountered another barrier: the economics of justice. When we consulted attorneys about holding Indiana University accountable, we learned about liability limits protecting public institutions under state law. The cost of litigation could exceed any realistic recovery.
We weren't told we had no case. We were told that pursuing it didn't make financial sense.
WHY ISN'T A WOMAN'S BODY HER OWN IN AMERICA IN 2026?
The struggle over a woman's bodily autonomy does not end with how institutions respond to sexual violence. It extends to what the government can require of her afterward. In 2022, the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. In states without rape or incest exceptions, a woman or girl can be legally compelled to carry a pregnancy resulting from sexual violence and give birth.
I find that perverted and barbaric. Pregnancy and childbirth are not government decisions. They are personal decisions belonging to the woman whose body, health and future are at stake.
Pregnancy is not risk-free. No legislature can promise a woman she will emerge from childbirth with her health or life intact. Nor does the government guarantee universal prenatal care, paid maternity leave, affordable childcare or financial security to a woman it compels to give birth.
I have wondered about those who made overturning Roe v. Wade their singular political cause, seemingly willing to overlook almost anything else to achieve it. At times, it has struck me as a bargain with the devil.
When I was a little girl, my mother had a woman who came to help around the house on Fridays so she could work alongside my father at his fish market during Lent. That woman taught us something I've never forgotten: “If you carry water for the devil, you might be the first to drown.”
I didn't understand what she meant then. But now, watching girls and women lose rights over their own bodies that their grandmothers once had, I think I finally do.
Some of these politicians may come to understand it, too.
A woman's religious beliefs may guide her decision. Her faith, conscience and counsel within her own house of worship are hers to consider. But the decision does not belong to the church, the legislature or the White House. It belongs to the woman.
Women were told we could have it all, but somewhere along the way “having it all” began to mean doing it all. Build a career. Raise the children. Keep the household running. Fend off the inappropriate advance without letting it derail your career.
Men have changed, too. Many fathers today share responsibilities my father's generation rarely considered theirs, and that progress deserves acknowledgment. But we still have so far to go.
You need only imagine sending a daughter you love away to college and then look at the facts.
“Facts are stubborn things.”
—John Adams, 1770
WHAT IS A WOMAN WORTH?
I think about the girls exploited by Epstein, the gymnasts abused by Nassar, the Cornell student, Lizzy Seeberg, the families I have encountered through my advocacy and my own daughter. Some were celebrated; others were unknown. What united them was the difficulty of being heard when their accounts challenged powerful interests.
We urge women to speak up and demand justice without ensuring that institutions respond with integrity and urgency. Now, in parts of this country, we are also denying women the final say over what happens to their bodies.
In 1948, the world proclaimed that all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. Seventy-eight years later, American women are still fighting to make those words mean something.
What is a woman worth in America today?
I never imagined that, at seventy years old, I would still have to ask.
About the Author
Eva Amar is a community activist and contributing writer covering land use, development and government accountability in the northwest San Fernando Valley. For more than two decades, she has also advocated for campus sexual-assault victims and for legislation strengthening campus safety, transparency and accountability.
