More Than A Magazine, A Movement
The Catholic Church is a religious organization with power extending into U.S. and global politics and culture, including influencing ideas and legislation surrounding sex education, abortion, contraception and marriage equality.
A trans shooter in Minneapolis does not change the pattern: Most mass murderers are cisgender men. Change begins with acknowledging that truth. And then acting on it.
Men, let’s answer the call. Let’s urge Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz and Attorney General Keith Ellison to use their platforms to spark a movement of men to lead the way. Enough is enough. The time is now—before the guns ring out again.
When Donald Trump anointed himself the “father of IVF” on the campaign trail, he promised to expand insurance coverage for in vitro fertilization—a move that was more pronatalist than pro-choice. In February 2025, Trump signed an executive order to explore reducing insurance-plan and out-of-pocket costs for IVF without a national insurance mandate. Now, reports indicate that the “father of IVF” is walking back his campaign promise just as a religiously motivated “alternative” threatens to enter mainstream medicine and be codified into law.
That awkward posture isn’t accidental. When Vance spreads his legs and plops down for an interview, he is directly addressing young men. He wants to prove that he’s just one of the guys, while also issuing a dire warning. “The boys,” he asserts, are under attack.
Advancements in women’s rights have always been followed by countermovements, each one lamenting, “But what about the boys?”
In reality, the cure for loneliness can’t be found in calling your friends the f-word or finding a “trad wife” who will stay in her place. It requires genuine relationships. It’s about having your feelings valued but with the equal expectation of emotional reciprocity. Behold and be held. That’s the deal.
Guys: You all, like all people, deserve to be loved. The problem is, the messengers who claim to be your friends are lying. Those guys don’t love you. They love their power over you.
Millions of women around the world gained safety, dignity and autonomy over their bodies thanks to Étienne-Émile Baulieu. The visionary biochemist, feminist and fearless innovator—best known for developing and championing “RU 486,” now known as mifepristone—died at his Paris home on May 30 at the age of 98.
Mifepristone has saved countless lives and offered millions of women a way to end unwanted pregnancies in the privacy and comfort of their homes. Baulieu and others championed the development of mifepristone for uses beyond abortion—including for treatment of fibroids, endometriosis, postpartum depression and cancer. He supported its use in managing miscarriages and as a way to help to dilate the cervix to reduce the need for Caesarean births. His vision for mifepristone wasn’t just to end pregnancies but to protect women’s health and reduce medical intervention that too often harmed them.
He predicted in 1991: “RU-486 will make its American entrance: science, good sense, and freedom will triumph.”
And here’s his view on why there has been tremendous opposition to abortion pills from the antiabortion movement: “A method that makes the termination of pregnancy less physically traumatic for women and less risky to their health has always been rejected by pro-lifers: What they really seek is to harm and punish women.”
When Pope Leo XIV stepped onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica on May 9, 2025, survivors of clergy sexual abuse around the world looked on—not with awe, but with apprehension. His election, rather than ushering in an era of accountability and healing, has reopened wounds. Many had hoped for a papacy rooted in reckoning, but instead, we have received familiar deflections—denials of personal responsibility for cases that unfolded under his leadership in past roles. Rather than acknowledging institutional failures or the human suffering caused, he has opted for self-preservation over repentance, speaking in guarded tones that prioritize the Church’s reputation over the voices of its most wounded.
For years, women have been fighting for inclusion in male-only spaces within the Catholic Church. These efforts continue as Pope Leo XIV begins his tenure.
Abortion is one of the most pivotal issues that will determine whether Trump returns to the Oval Office. The Republican nominee routinely brags about his role—via three Supreme Court nominations—in overturning Roe v. Wade in a 2022 ruling that inevitably limited abortion access for millions of people in the United States.
Less known is the work that Trump and his appointees did to prevent women in other countries from obtaining the procedure.
More than 8,000 Catholic employers across the country will not be required to provide accommodations for workers needing abortion or fertility care following a ruling in North Dakota. An estimated 162,000 workers are on these health plans.
Abortion access, IVF treatment and gender-affirming care have all become major talking points in an election that may be defined by them. Vice President Kamala Harris, who supports all three, has been critical of Trump’s stance on abortion and IVF in particular.
When I became a registered nurse two decades ago, I chose to work at my local Catholic hospital: Ascension Via Christi St. Francis in Wichita, Kansas. This Mother’s Day provides a bleak reminder of the stark contrast between my Catholic employer’s public image and the reality inside its hospitals.
Ascension is one of the largest and wealthiest nonprofit and Catholic hospital systems in the United States. Ascension cut a quarter of its labor and delivery units, just in the last decade.
The Catholic health ministry boasts the mission of giving “special attention to those who are poor and vulnerable.” Act like it.
“Comprehensive sex education” has become a lightning rod for controversy, igniting moral panic around young people learning about gender theory, sexuality, safe sex, abortion care and more. But my experience designing sex education programs has taught me that “comprehensive” sex education isn’t comprehensive enough. What’s missing is a critical approach to sexual education that examines the political, cultural and economic factors shaping sexual decisions and health.