child

The sprawling snack-food factory in upstate New York appeared to be closed when a small army of immigration officers arrived after 9 a.m. Following a brief discussion of whether to force their way inside, a manager opened the front door.

Over the next several hours, body cameras were running as federal authorities from several agencies made 57 arrests, debated which files to seize and when to release employees who were U.S. citizens. They also searched for anyone in hiding.

The footage from September 2025 shows the raid at the Nutrition Bar Confectioners plant in Cato, N.Y., town of 2,500 people east of Syracuse, and offers a rare glimpse inside a workplace immigration sweep. The Associated Press analyzed the video, which was part of a lawsuit filed Thursday that accuses authorities of overstepping their search warrants.

The officers ordered a manager to announce their presence over loudspeakers while they entered the building and caught employees on the production line, in the warehouse and a few in the bathroom. Officers covered all exits while others swept the interior, including homing in on locked doors.

Male officers encountered a locked bathroom and began shouting instructions in broken Spanish at female employees through the door, demanding that they come out. After about 10 seconds, officers broke through the door.

One woman was outside of a stall and another in the stall. A male officer peered through a locked stall door, and his body cam video revealed a woman sitting on the toilet.

“Miss, pull up your pants. Come out of the bathroom,” he told her.

“You have to wait. I can’t come out like this, naked!” she replied.

Investigators interviewed the general manager and said they were looking into hiring practices and potential fraudulent documents. Inside and outside the building, officers checked every office, storage room and hallway for anyone who was hiding.

Employees were lined up and separated into groups of U.S. citizens and potential noncitizens. Officers asked for their immigration status, requested documents and posed questions about their entry into the U.S. Some employees were pregnant.

Some were parents and expressed concern for their children at home. Others said they would not answer questions without first speaking to their attorneys, and officers told them they would be arrested.

One employee refused to answer questions. “Will you let me talk to my attorney?” she asked the officer. He raised his voice and continued asking about her immigration status.

U.S. citizens were asked for personal information, including their phone numbers and addresses before they were allowed to leave.

A Border Patrol agent who spoke to another official wearing a camera used disparaging language about children from other countries when recounting his experience working at a South Texas immigrant detention center. He said President Biden’s administration allowed millions of people to enter the United States from countries where children are treated “differently” than they are by American parents.

“In other countries, kids are more of a commodity or it’s more of like, I’m going to put it in those terms. It’s more like an animal, right? It’s not prized the way that we do it,” he said.

“There’s countries like Brazil and other places where they’re literal street rats at a very young age who commit crimes, and then they come here. I don’t know if you have kids, but they’ll eat our kids for breakfast.”

The Homeland Security Department said Friday that it executed a criminal search warrant at the plant as part of an investigation that is still open. Its statement did not address the contents of the video or the merits of the lawsuit.

Not all officers wore body cameras, but those who did often indicated to other officers that they were recording before they initiated a conversation.

ICE’s Homeland Security Investigations unit is responsible for workplace raids, which have been relatively few and low-key compared with ICE’s removal unit, which arrests people in the street, at homes and in public and also manages detention centers. The Trump administration’s largest workplace raid was last year at a Hyundai electric vehicle plant in Georgia. It resulted in nearly 500 arrests and fueled diplomatic tension with South Korea.

The lawsuit against Homeland Security claims federal officers exceeded the authority of their warrants and violated workers’ constitutional rights against unlawful search and seizure.

“There were no arrest warrants,” said Perry Grossman, a supervising attorney at the New York Civil Liberties Union, which filed the lawsuit with the Worker Justice Center of New York.

“There was no suspicion that individual workers had committed crimes. And they seized easily 100 people for nonconsensual questioning. They arrested 57. Out of those 57 people, criminal charges were brought against only five. And the most serious charge was unlawful reentry.”

Grossman said one employee got her charges dismissed after contending in a lawsuit that her 4th Amendment rights were violated. He said he was not aware of any charges or indictments against the employers.

Officers detained about 60 people and deported some employees, including two plaintiffs who are part of Thursday’s lawsuit. One plaintiff has since been allowed to reenter the country. Attorneys for the second deported plaintiff are seeking his return.

Law enforcement agencies have come under criticism for not using body cameras and for refusing to release footage when they do. ICE, in particular, has been scrutinized after a $75-billion infusion from Congress and an expanding street presence that has led to three fatal shootings this year.

ICE’s own rules on releasing video are unclear. Its policy calls for expedited release of footage after a serious injury or death in custody when doing so is determined to be in the “ best interests of the agency.”

The Trump administration has repeatedly promised to equip ICE field agents with body cameras, as required by Congress. Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin said last week that the agency was “on track” to do so by the end of September.

Gonzalez and Vancleave write for the Associated Press.

Alanis Morissette is getting candid about the terror she experienced with what she calls “postpartum activity.”

Although terms like postpartum depression and postpartum psychosis may not have dominated trending topics in the 2010s when the singer-songwriter was having her three babies, Ever Imre, now 15; Onyx Solace, 10; and Winter Mercy, 7, it’s an especially hot-button issue today. And Morissette knows a thing or two about grappling with the condition.

On Wednesday, Morissette appeared on the “Call Her Daddy” podcast and told host Alex Cooper that she experienced postpartum depression after giving birth to each of children, and that the condition worsened each time.

“Basically, I became another person,” she said, adding that her hormones felt out of whack. “There’s some version of menopausal flux combined with … invasive thoughts that are so harrowing — terrible, ceaseless, invasive thoughts, anxiety, depression, rage, off the charts. I felt completely out of control, and yet I was touring … and being a boss and being someone taking care of money and finances and everything, and that is the part where, when I’m quiet and alone, I might weep a little bit.”

In recent months, attitudes around postpartum depression have shifted, and the condition has been discussed more urgently than perhaps ever before. Hayden Panettiere’s death sparked renewed scrutiny of society’s treatment of women suffering from the condition. And the polarizing trial of Lindsay Clancy, a labor-and-delivery nurse who pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity after killing her three children in 2023, has captivated the country since July.

Back in 2019, Morissette discussed her experience with the illness, but the topic hadn’t yet garnered the public’s attention like it has today. Morissette told Cooper that when she first experienced symptoms, she reached out to multiple therapists, who didn’t seem to know how to treat the issue, no matter how well-meaning they were.

The “You Learn” singer said that the “invisible load” that mothers often carry — which the Institute of Child Psychology describes as the mental and emotional weight involved in running a home and tending to children — should no longer be invisible.

“We’re making it visible,” she said. “I’m going to tell you the 37 things that we do an hour … let’s name it. Even us calling it ‘invisible load’ keeps it invisible.”

The Grammy winner told Cooper that she went on tour while suffering from postpartum depression during the pandemic and that it became so severe, she “dipped into psychosis.”

“The depression piece inside PPD, unfortunately, I was familiar with it,” she said. “It was all the other stuff. It was the invasive thoughts and the terror. All I could picture was death and terrible things. … The bummer for me inside PPD was that I was losing people’s trust in my sanity. That’s a bummer. When I have spent my whole life attempting to establish to people I love that I’m safe, and that I’m predictable, and then all of a sudden I wasn’t. That was a loss, because people looked at me differently. They looked at me like I maybe couldn’t be trusted.”

The singer said she’d recovered since the struggle. “I feel so happy that I’m back.”

California, home to the world’s largest tech companies, is placing more guardrails around social media and artificial intelligence as child safety concerns escalate.

On Thursday, California Gov. Gavin Newsom signed more than 10 bills aimed at keeping young people safe online.

From suicides to sextortion, parents and their children are wrestling with how social media and AI chatbots could be harming people’s mental and physical health. The anxiety comes as technology becomes more powerful, playing a bigger role in classrooms, offices and homes.

California lawmakers have tried to tackle online safety concerns for years and they’ve faced intense lobbying from tech companies with deep pockets. The state’s laws have a disproportionate impact on the global tech industry because so many of the field’s titans are based here.

“We cannot hand children technology engineered by some of the most sophisticated companies in the world, and then place the burden on kids to defend themselves against it,” said California First Partner Jennifer Siebel Newsom in a news conference Thursday in the San Francisco Bay Area.

The California governor, who has tried to strike a balance between safety concerns and supporting innovation, has rejected online safety bills in the past that he thought were too restrictive or premature.

The batch of new legislation includes Senate Bill 1119, which would require companion chatbot operators to assess risks, notify parents in certain cases if their child threatened to harm themselves, and take other safety steps.

Lawmakers named the bill Adam’s Law, after Adam Raine, a California teen who died by suicide in 2025 after conversing with OpenAI’s ChatGPT. The teen’s parents sued OpenAI, alleging in the lawsuit that ChatGPT provided information about suicide methods that the teen used. OpenAI and Pinterest publicly expressed support for the bill on Thursday.

Adam Raine’s mom, Maria, said in the news conference that the new law will help save lives and hopes that other states will enact similar legislation.

“Powerful AI companionship chatbots were unleashed on our kids with vastly inadequate protections. Adam was an early adopter of AI, and so many of us parents did not understand the dangers back then,” said Maria Raine, who came to the event with a photo of her son.

At the event, Democratic and Republican politicians shared their experiences as parents who have seen firsthand how technology affects children.

Assemblyman Josh Lowenthal (D-Long Beach) said parents are seeing anxiety and depression among children who grew up in front of screens.

“That anxiety is because the pace of technology is moving faster than government can put guardrails in, and that’s left families across the state struggling to figure out how to keep their kids safe,” Lowenthal said.

Lowenthal introduced Assembly Bill 1709, which Newsom also signed. It would bar certain online platforms from providing an “addictive feature” such as autoplay and feeds that display recommended content to users under 16 years old.

Tech industry groups opposed the bill, raising concerns that it could cut off access to social media’s benefits, such as people’s ability to connect with family and friends. Tech industry groups such as TechNet say that lawmakers should enforce current laws to strengthen parental controls rather than pass new ones.

NetChoice, which has sued California and other states to block the enforcement of new online safety laws, said in a statement that the group has First Amendment concerns about the new bills Newsom signed.

“The state cannot simply describe speech as addictive and then claim a right to regulate access to it,” said Zach Lilly, Director of Government Affairs at NetChoice. “Whether the governor and legislature choose to respect it, Californians have a right to express themselves, and NetChoice will continue to fight for that right.”

The new safety restrictions come as tech companies, including Meta, Google and others, face more scrutiny over how they design products. The companies have suffered several legal blows in courtrooms in California this year.

Meta, which owns Facebook and Instagram, agreed in August to pay up to $17 billion and make child-safety changes to resolve a multistate lawsuit. The lawsuit accused the tech company of designing and deploying harmful features while misleading the public about them.

As part of the settlement, Meta said it would impose time limits and mute notifications during certain hours for teens. Young people would also have the option to choose to view a non-algorithmic social media feed that isn’t personalized and disable autoplay.

Earlier this year, Meta and YouTube also lost a social media addiction lawsuit in Los Angeles.

While new legislation goes further than the settlements, some countries have passed stricter restrictions on social media. Last year, Australia started banning social media for children under 16, though enforcement has posed a challenge because teens are finding ways to get around the restriction.

Newsom, who pushed for federal regulation, said that he thinks California’s approach to social media is “better” than Australia’s because children are “all figuring out a way to game that system.”

“This is about the features themselves. This is about actually addressing the problem, the scrolling, the algorithms,” he said.

Safety concerns around technology have also heightened as companies double down on advancing artificial intelligence.

This week, a researcher for AI company Anthropic said he left the company over concerns that AI companies, including OpenAI, are “gambling with our lives” as they race ahead to improve AI that could surpass human intelligence.

The researcher, Jacob Coxon, shared a viral social media post that said: “People building AI earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade.”

Newsom signaled the work to protect children isn’t over.

“We need to move, but one thing we’re not doing is we’re not sitting back and we’re not letting it rip,” he said.

The estranged wife of former Chargers defensive end Marcellus Wiley has been granted a three-year restraining order against the former Los Angeles sports radio personality two months after she accused him of raping her and physically abusing her and their children.

The former Pro Bowl player has denied the allegations that Annemarie, a nurse anesthetist and former cast member of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” made in a declaration submitted July 6 to the Superior Court of Los Angeles County with her request for a restraining order against her husband of 12 years. She filed for divorce the same day.

Marcellus and Annemarie Wiley both testified in person during a hearing on Wednesday. Evidence presented by both sides included texts and WhatsApp messages, social media posts, court filings and media coverage of the couple.

“The Court finds that Petitioner has met the burden of proof by preponderance of the evidence,” Judge Esther P. Kim wrote in her ruling, which was issued the next day. “Petitioner’s request for a Domestic Violence the minor children are included as protected person in the Restraining Order After Hearing.”

Annemarie Wiley was granted full legal and physical custody of their three children, with a visitation plan detailed for her husband.

“I’m grateful for the court’s decision and welcome the opportunity for our family to finally begin healing after an incredibly difficult and trying time,” Marcellus Wiley said in a statement to The California Post on Thursday. “From the beginning, my fight has been about being present in my children’s lives, loving them, supporting them, and being their father every day.

“I’m thankful I get to return to that role. Annemarie deserves the space to protect her peace, our children deserve the love and presence of both parents, and our family deserves the opportunity to move forward without conflict defining us. My hope now is simple: healing, peace, and getting our family back to a place where love leads the way.”

On July 4, Marcellus Wiley was arrested in Florida after his wife told police he poked her in the face with his finger and threatened to kill her. He was released the next day on $1,000 bond and faced a possible charge of misdemeanor domestic battery. Last month, the state opted not to file charges because of a lack of sufficient evidence.

In the declaration she submitted with her restraining order request, Annemarie Wiley documented numerous alleged incidents that she said demonstrated “a continuing and escalating pattern of physical violence, sexual abuse, verbal and emotional abuse, financial control, and intimidation, much of which our children have witnessed.” She also mentioned four instances in which her husband allegedly raped her, once in 2012 and three times in January.

A temporary restraining order was granted on July 7. On the same day, Marcellus Wiley wrote on X that he has “videos, photographs, text messages, emails, and other evidence that directly contradicts those baseless claims and provides a factual record of our family and the events leading to this unfortunate divorce.”

It’s pronounced “human.” Yet writer-director Siân Heder acknowledges that the unusual spelling of the title of her new movie, “Being Heumann,” is something people might give a puzzled second look, unsure of how to say it and possibly dismissing it altogether.

Which, the more she sat with it, made it perfect as the title for a portrait of real-life disability rights activist Judy Heumann, who, while being in a wheelchair, made herself undismissable.

More specifically, the film looks at the pivotal 1977 protest in which Heumann led a group in a 26-day sit-in at a federal office building in San Francisco until the government began enforcing Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973 — the first federal law that recognized disability as a civil rights category.

“The fact that her last name was ‘human’ has so many beautiful layers of meaning,” says Heder, 49, during a recent interview in Los Angeles. “I think Judy was asking for the world to see disabled people as human beings who were worthy of rights and being looked at and being included.”

A world premiere and the opening-night selection of this year’s Toronto International Film Festival, which begins on Thursday, “Being Heumann” will hit theaters Nov. 6 and begin streaming on Apple TV Nov. 13. It is also, crucially, Heder’s first film since 2021’s “CODA,” the bittersweet drama about a young woman in a Deaf family (the title is an acronym for “child of Deaf adults”) that won three Academy Awards including adapted screenplay for Heder and best picture.

Actor Ruth Madeley and filmmaker Siân Heder during production on “Being Heumann.”

(Apple TV)

In Heumann, a wheelchair user after contracting polio as a child, Heder found a subject who was in the process of discovering herself as a leader: learning when to hold firm and when to cede ground and empower other people. And for someone who was grappling with the aftermath of unexpected success, that felt familiar.

“I think I was making a movie about myself, honestly,” Heder says. “When you’re moving forward on a massive project or a movement or anything, there’s a necessary drive and ambition and focus that is needed. And if you look at any major change that’s happened in human history, it takes a certain kind of person to push that through. I’m not identifying myself with great leaders of the civil rights movement, but directing a movie is a similar thing.”

Heder is tucked into a quiet corner of a busy coffee shop in L.A.’s Eagle Rock neighborhood, where she has long lived. She is in the process of moving from one historic house to an even older one a few blocks away. Heder didn’t want to disrupt the schooling of her two young children, ages 10 and 12, and has become too enmeshed in the area to want to leave it.

“There’s definitely an element of: ‘She manipulated everyone with that movie. She made us all cry and that’s why she won,’” Heder says of “CODA,” her Oscar-winning best picture. “I was an indie filmmaker that was compelled to tell that story.”

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

Community is a word that comes up often over the course of a conversation with Heder, who has a warm manner and a quiet self-possession. Though “CODA” may have brought her wider attention, she was far from a novice by the time she made that film. She won a Peabody Award as a writer on the series “Men of a Certain Age” and was a writer, director and producer on the acclaimed “Orange Is the New Black.” She expanded her 2006 short film “Mother” into her first feature “Tallulah,” about a young woman who takes a baby from a reckless mother and tries to pass it off as her own. It premiered at Sundance in 2016.

Winning the Oscar created changes in her life both big and small. Heder at first kept it on her desk at home, but had to move it because she began to feel the statuette’s crossed arms quietly judging her as she worked. When she drove herself to the Spirit Awards the year after “CODA’s” triumph and spontaneously gave a ride to an afterparty to Maggie Gyllenhaal and Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Heder suddenly realized her 10-year-old Subaru wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

“I have a nicer car now,” she says, laughing at the memory. “It’s baby steps.”

The day after the Oscars, Heder recalls that she couldn’t stop crying, all the pressure built up from months of campaigning events and Q&As finally letting itself out.

She says two things changed almost immediately after winning the Oscar. One was a sense of expectation, wanting to make the most of whatever the moment might allow.

“This was not a part of my plans,” she says. “I didn’t ever intend to have so many eyeballs turn to me and go, ’What are you doing now?’”

The second was simply the volume of material and opportunities incoming. Heder says she met with Marvel “so many times” about different projects but none of them felt right. As an independent filmmaker “you’re always pushing against the no,” she puts it, moving projects forward against all odds. But now she felt she had to be the resistance, the one to ask whether something was worthwhile.

“Suddenly there are a lot of voices chiming in too because your reps have an idea of what you should do next and the industry has an idea of what you should do next,” Heder says. “And it was really important for me to center myself back in a feeling of: I’ve always been drawn to stories because they move me. And that hasn’t changed.”

Her Oscars triumph was also the night of the notorious Will Smith-Chris Rock on-stage slap, which overshadowed coverage. Heder is online enough that she knows that some film fans would want an asterisk next to the Oscar wins for “CODA,” as if to note some sort of COVID-era exception for the first film from a streaming service to win Hollywood’s top award.

“There’s definitely an element of: ‘She manipulated everyone with that movie. She made us all cry and that’s why she won,’” Heder says with a edge of defiance. “I was an indie filmmaker that was compelled to tell that story. And then audiences embraced that story and that story took off in a way that was unexpected and surprising even for me.”

Siân Heder holds her Oscar for best adapted screenplay for “CODA” backstage during the Oscars in 2022.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

Heder had been developing “Being Heumann” before “CODA” was released. A friend encouraged Heder to see the 2020 documentary “Crip Camp,” which includes Heumann as a subject, and the filmmaker was so struck by that story, she followed up by reading Heumann’s 2020 memoir.

She sent Heumann a cold email expressing interest in the book. As it turned out, Heumann was deciding that very day who should direct a movie of her life. Heumann gave the filmmaker a last-minute chance to pitch herself. After saying she’d cast authentically disabled performers as she did on “CODA,” Heder got the job.

Heder would work for two years on researching and developing the project with Heumann, interviewing dozens of people involved in the actual Carter-era protest. When Heumann died unexpectedly in 2023, Heder did not think she could continue, but it was “Crip Camp” co-director James Lebrecht who convinced her otherwise.

“I think Judy’s death, which was sudden — it made me feel like she had left her legacy in my hands,” remembers Heder.

After developing other scripts post-Oscars that never quite became her next film, Heder eventually found herself in the enviable position of having two projects greenlit at once: “Being Heumann” at Apple and an adaptation of Gabrielle Zevin’s popular novel “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” at Paramount.

As she was trying to make a decision, she went to a meeting with several other directors about the relaunching of the Village Theater in Westwood. She found herself having coffee with Guillermo del Toro and asked him how he decided between potential projects.

“And he said, ‘Make the movie that can’t get made without you,’” she recalls. “And that was very clarifying for me. When you are the element that gets that story told, it takes on an importance and urgency.”

As can often be the case, Del Toro’s advice confirmed what she already felt and she began to move forward with “Being Heumann.” (She is currently prepping “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” so there will not be another five-year gap between releasing films.)

“I was having a rare moment of power in the industry to push something forward,” Heder says, “and it felt like there was a path to go make a big paycheck and have that kind of jump up, or I could use that moment of power and success to try to push through the hardest project I could think of. It was in that moment, after ‘CODA,’ where I really realized: I could make this incredibly difficult movie that no one might make.”

Andrew Pilkington, from left, Siena Rafter, Charlie Rush-Reese, Dylan O’Brien, Roberta Colindrez, Ruth Madeley and Madeline Delp in the movie “Being Heumann.”

(Apple TV)

Following what Heder describes as “the casting Olympics,’ she arrived at BAFTA-nominated actor Ruth Madeley, a wheelchair user, to play the lead role. “Being Heumann” was shot in Toronto, largely on a soundstage built to stand in for the San Francisco federal office building where the sit-in took place.

“Hollywood might be the least accessible industry out there,” Heder notes while beginning to explain the accommodations that needed to be made for a cast that included performers with a wide range of disabilities. Custom-built trailers were created and the set had to be made accessible in ways that a filming location typically is not. An accessibility team oversaw everything, from large-scale logistics to the personal needs of individual background actors.

Rather than a more conventional biopic, Heder wanted to tell the more specific story of the 504 sit-in, building out an ensemble of characters around Heumann.

“I said, “It’s almost like ‘Bad News Bears’ and ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ together,” says Heder. “There’s an underdog-sports-team feeling and bank-heist-gone-wrong.”

But a filmmaker friend asked her: Is making movies about disability now her “thing”? It is a question Heder had already considered.

“Of course it was on my mind if it starts to feel like: Oh, is Siân Heder a social justice warrior who’s just out to try to make these movies that have some kind of message behind them,” she says preemptively. “But I think this is just a great story. Outside of disability, outside of anything else, it is a great story.”

Heder remains interested in stories about outsiders, about class and people generally ignored by or on the fringes of society. And it remains important that she herself feel a part of a larger community in her life and her work.

“My daughter said to me the other day, ‘Mom, I think you’re the right kind of famous because you are important to people who know who you are, but you can still just be in the world and be anonymous.” And I think there’s something true about that.”

Her daughter has obviously inherited Heder’s deep well of empathy, one that is more concerned with bringing new, unseen stories to the screen than with the pursuit of cool points or pure fame.

“‘Earnest’ has become a dirty word,” says Heder. “And what earnest actually means is direct and truthful.”

NEW YORK — Robin Morgan, a wholesome child star of the 1940s and ‘50s who grew up to become an all-American radical as a poet, essayist, editor and second-wave feminist, has died. She was 85.

Morgan, who was still working on new books and poems, died Saturday in New York after suffering a series of health problems in recent weeks, said her son, Blake Morgan. Her death came just days after that of her close friend and fellow activist Gloria Steinem.

During the 1960s and ’70s, Morgan embodied and inspired historic changes in how women lived and thought. As she was happy to point out, the onetime “Ideal American Girl” and adored “Little Robin Morgan” was a rule breaker and justice seeker with a notable list of achievements, along with a prison record and an FBI file.

Morgan was at the center of the some of the defining moments of what came to be called second-wave feminism, expanding upon the achievements of the suffragists a half-century earlier. In 1968, she was among the organizers of the first protest against the Miss America pageant, joining fellow activists in tossing their bras (soon mythologized as burning) into a “Freedom Trash Can.” The 1970 essay anthology she edited, “Sisterhood is Powerful,” is considered one of the essential texts of the modern women’s movement.

Yet she considered herself primarily a poet and artist, and that work fed into her activism, her son said.

“She was someone who was able to take very big ideas and distill them succinctly, like a poet, into a few words,” said Blake Morgan, pointing to such quotes of hers as “hate generalizes, love specifies.”

Morgan was credited for coining ‘herstory’

Her legacy was one of deeds, words and images. Morgan is widely credited with coining the term “herstory,” the feminist reworking of “history,” and popularizing the clenched fist/female symbol icon of the liberation movement. Her poem “Monster,” with such lines as “I want a women’s revolution like a lover/I lust for it,” was quoted at feminist rallies and beyond. Her poem “Arraignment” helped capture the movement’s embrace of the late Sylvia Plath and condemnation of her husband, poet Ted Hughes, whom Morgan and others blamed for Plath’s suicide in 1963. Morgan’s rhyming couplet “I accuse/Ted Hughes” inspired the title for Sonic Youth’s song “J’Accuse Ted Hughes.”

Labeled an “anarchist housewife” in one government report, Morgan confronted the establishment, left and right. In 1970, she and fellow protesters were arrested and jailed after occupying the offices of the counterculture Grove Press, whose owner, Barney Rosset, was fighting employees’ efforts to unionize. In the widely reprinted 1970 essay “Goodbye to All That,” she called out activists and libertines from Abbie Hoffman and Hugh Hefner to Dave Dellinger and the music group the Fugs.

“Goodbye to the male-dominated peace movement, where sweet old Uncle Dave can say with impunity to a woman on the staff of Liberation magazine, The trouble with you is you’re an aggressive woman,” she wrote.

“Goodbye to the idea that Hugh Hefner is groovy ’cause he lets Conspirators come to parties at the Playboy Mansion — goodbye to Hefner’s dream of a ripe old age. Goodbye to Tuli and the Fugs and all the boys in the front room — who always knew they hated the women they loved. Goodbye to the notion that good ol’ Abbie is any different from any other up-and-coming movie star who ditches the first wife and kids, good enough for the old days but awkward once you’re Making It.”

She led an unconventional personal life

In her personal life, Morgan had male and female lovers and was married for more than 20 years to the gay poet Kenneth Pitchford, with whom she had her son, a musician, producer and record company founder. She once described her marriage as a “two member commune” and was so resistant to labels that she remembered being “straight-baited” by feminists who thought she should be a lesbian and chastised by conservatives who assumed she was a lesbian.

In her 2001 memoir “Saturday’s Child,” she expressed joy and amazement at how her life turned out and how she was able to retain “a threadbare, somewhat surreal sense of humor.”

“Put that in your apple pie and smoke it,” she wrote.

She wrote more than 20 books, including a memoir

Besides “Saturday’s Child,” she completed more than 20 books, including “The Word of a Woman: Feminists Dispatches,” and the poetry collections “Monster” and “Dark Matter.” She followed “Sisterhood is Powerful” with “Sisterhood is Global” (in 1984), and “Sisterhood is Forever” (2002), featuring such contributors as Steinem, Simone de Beauvoir and Eve Ensler. For several years, she was editor in chief of Ms. Magazine, which Steinem co-founded.

Steinem would call her an ideal “utility player,” gifted in almost every way a protest movement might require. As an organizer, she helped found such 1960s feminist groups as New York Radical Women and Women’s International Terrorist Conspiracy from Hell (W.I.T.C.H.). She was part of the Youth International Party, the left-wing Yippies led by Hoffman and Jerry Rubin among others, but soon became disgusted with how the group treated women and left.

In 1984, she was a founder of an early feminist think tank, the Sisterhood Is Global Institute. In 2005, she, Steinem and Jane Fonda launched the Women’s Media Center, which has a mission to support “the visibility, viability and decision-making power of women and girls in media.”

More recently, she hosted a syndicated radio show and remained active despite being diagnosed 16 years ago with Parkinson’s disease, which inspired several poems and a TEDWomen talk in 2015.

A child star in the ‘40s

In a different era, Morgan might have been just another forgotten child star. Born in 1941 in Lake Worth, Fla., and raised in New York, she never saw her father while growing up and was told — falsely — by her mother that he was dead. Her mother also shaved a year off her age, claiming she was born in 1942, to make her early public career seem even more impressive.

The blond, talented Robin was modeling by age 3, hosted her own “Little Robin Morgan” radio show at age 5 and around the same time was featured on the radio (later television) game show, “Juvenile Jury.” From 1949-57, she appeared on the hit TV domestic comedy series “Mama” and made appearances on “Robert Montgomery Presents,” “Kraft Television Theatre” and other shows.

She would meet some of the era’s biggest stars, from Abbott and Costello to Sal Mineo, and was popular enough to inspire such commercial tie-ins as Robin Morgan dolls. Magazines described her as “unspoiled” and “courteous” and “the ideal girl-next-door,” immune from “violent outbursts of antagonism against established society.”

But off camera, and sometimes on, she was so apart from her image that her first “serious” childhood poem began: “Go, rage, winter the world with despair.” During one broadcast of “Juvenile Jury,” the question was whether a boy deserved to be spanked. Morgan was supposed to joke that he should wear padding under his pants, but instead declared that all physical punishment was wrong.

As she recalled in “Saturday’s Child,” producer Dan Ehrenreich squeezed her shoulder so hard that Morgan could feel his fingernails. He turned her microphone away and eventually placed his hand over her mouth.

“I realized that I loved and respected that child who fought back in what was the first political act I recall ever daring to make,” Morgan wrote.

Her political activity began in her late teens

Once in her late teens, she began taking classes at Columbia University, attended poetry workshops and became politically active. She marched for civil rights and against the Vietnam War and met protesters, artists and such poets as W.H. Auden and Anthony Hecht, who she said gave her a man’s-eye view of the creative process: “But, my dear, women should be poems, not write them.”

In 1962, she met Pitchford at a Manhattan party. Once the other guests (“boozy bikers” and “stoned, hallucinating Joffrey dancers”) had left and the host urged others to go with them, Pitchford lighted candles, put Dvorak’s “New World” symphony on the record player and became her “first.” They later walked for hours and ended up on a downtown park bench.

“You have such an air of possibility about you, Robin,” he told her. “It makes me believe anything can happen.”

Italie writes for the Associated Press. AP writer Jennifer Peltz contributed to this report.