woman

Sept. 11, 2026 5:29 PM PT

WASHINGTON — An Afghan woman who was accused of supporting an Islamic State-inspired plot in the United States and whose case was the first for an obscure and long-dormant court has been deported, the Justice Department said Friday.

Nazira Haji Zada, 47, was arrested in July at her Fort Worth home and brought before the Alien Terrorist Removal Court on a Justice Department application to deport her from the U.S. On Friday, the department said that she had waived her rights to challenge her detention and had agreed to be deported to Afghanistan.

Haji Zada’s attorneys said her decision to consent to removal “should not be seen as an endorsement of this court’s legitimacy.”

“Dragging lawful permanent residents into court but refusing to show them or their attorneys the evidence that will be used against them is a plain violation of due process,” the defense lawyers said in a statement Friday. “We are confident that the Alien Terrorist Removal Court will be struck down as unconstitutional as soon as a judge is asked to address the issue.”

Court filings about Haji Zada’s deportation, including a judge’s Aug. 20 removal order, remained under seal until after she reached her destination.

The swift resolution averts what could have been a protracted legal fight testing the authority of the court, which was established in 1996 but until July had not received any petitions, as well as the strength of allegations against Haji Zada.

Atty. Gen. Todd Blanche said the case’s outcome is “a win for national security and the rule of law.”

“Those who support and condone terrorism should not be living in the United States, and this first-ever case before the [court] shows how the Department will use every tool at its disposal to protect our country,” Blanche said in a statement.

The Justice Department has described Haji Zada as a supporter of the Islamic State and identified her at the time as the mother and mother-in-law of two Afghan men who were convicted in Oklahoma of plotting an attack in the U.S. on election day in 2024. The plans were foiled before any attack took place.

Her lawyers at the time of the deportation had been pressing the court to force the Justice Department to share information and other evidence to support the allegations in the case.

The court has specific authority to conduct deportation proceedings for people whom the Justice Department classifies as “alien terrorists.” The court is composed of five federal judges from different districts across the country who are appointed by the U.S. chief justice.

“Those who plot acts of terrorism against the United States have no place in our country,” Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin said in a statement. “We will find them, and we will use every lawful tool available to remove them.”

On July 30, Judge Joan Ericksen presided over the first hearing for the court’s first case since its creation 30 years ago.

One of Haji Zada’s attorneys argued at the hearing that the Trump administration’s activation of the court violates her constitutional rights. Attorney Matthew Farley urged the judge to dismiss the case and immediately release his client.

An FBI memo dated July 15 said it “developed information” that Haji Zada is an Islamic State supporter who had her children pledge their loyalty to the terrorist group. Her son, Abdullah Haji Zada, was sentenced in November to 15 years in prison and court records show he previously agreed to be removed from the U.S. after his release.

Her son-in-law, Nasir Ahmad Tawhedi, previously worked as a security guard for an American military installation in Afghanistan. He pleaded guilty to conspiring and attempting to provide material support to the Islamic State group. Prosecutors have said he took steps to advance his attack plans by ordering AK-47 rifles, liquidating his family’s assets and buying one-way tickets for his wife and child to travel home to Afghanistan.

Tucker and Kunzelman write for the Associated Press.

WASHINGTON: An Afghan woman accused of supporting a plot to carry out a mass shooting in the United States has been sent back to Afghanistan in the first case heard by a special US terror court, the Department of Justice said Friday.

Nazira Hajji Zada, 47, a Texas resident, was removed from the United States on August 25 on the orders of the Alien Terrorist Removal Court (ATRC) in Washington, the department said in a statement.

The ATRC was established by Congress 30 years ago but had never previously been used.

The Department of Justice said that Zada, who came to the United States in 2018, “conceded that she is an alien terrorist and waived appeal of the removal order.”

“This landmark case, resulting in the prompt removal of this alien terrorist to her country of origin, is a win for national security and the rule of law,” Attorney General Todd Blanche said in a statement.

“This first-ever case before the ATRC shows how the Department will use every tool at its disposal to protect our country.”

Zada’s son, Abdullah Hajji Zada pleaded guilty — alongside a co-conspirator, Nasir Ahmad Tawhedi — to plotting an attack on US election day in 2024 on behalf of the Islamic State.

Abdullah Hajji Zada, who was 17 at the time of his arrest, was sentenced to 15 years in prison in 2025. Tawhedi is awaiting sentencing.

According to court documents, the pair purchased two AK-47 rifles and 500 rounds of ammunition from an undercover FBI employee to carry out a “mass-casualty attack.”

It was 1963 and up-and-coming freelance journalist Gloria Steinem had been a working writer in New York City for roughly three years when Show magazine sent her on an undercover assignment that she was uniquely qualified for: to infiltrate Manhattan’s “greatest new showbiz gimmick,” the Playboy Club. She already had the beauty and brains, all she’d need was an alias, a leotard and a notebook. The assignment would change the course of her career, but not in the way that she’d hoped.

“GIRLS:

Do Playboy Club Bunnies Really

Have Glamorous Jobs,

Meet Celebrities, And

Make Top Money?

Yes, it’s true! Attractive young girls can now earn $200-$300 a week at the fabulous New York Playboy Club, enjoy the glamorous and exciting aura of show business, and have the opportunity to travel to other Playboy Clubs throughout the world.”

Armed with the above ad and welcomed by a grinning private guard calling, “Here bunny, bunny, bunny!” Steinem set out to expose the working conditions and interior lives of the bunnies slinging booze to the playboys who patronized the club. She subjected herself to the wardrobe fittings, which included getting her bunny suit stuffed to boost her breast size; she was poked and prodded during an invasive physical exam; she strutted through the club near-naked with sore feet and a suit so tight, she had to wrap gauze around her midsection where her skin had been rubbed raw; and various other indignities she underwent for the sake of journalism.

Documenting a lunch shift at the club, Steinem wrote, “Somehow, the usual tail pullings and propositions and pinching and ogling seemed all the more depressing when, outside this windowless room of perpetual night, the sun was shining.”

Steinem’s article accomplished what it set out to do, and not only were the working conditions at the club exposed, but some were subsequently improved because of her work. In her essay collection “Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions,” Steinem wrote that in response to the story, Hugh Hefner wrote her a letter saying that her “beef about the physical given [to] the girls before they start work at the club prompted my eliminating it.”

Also as a result of her piece, she was slapped with a $1-million libel suit, subpoenaed as a witness in a liquor laws case against the Playboy Club, and received “obscene and threatening” calls.

Most notable, of the short-term results of the story, was the immediate impact it had on her career. Sure, in a lot of ways it had put her on the map, but she struggled to land serious journalistic assignments because, as she put it, “I had now become a Bunny — and it didn’t matter why.”

Steinem, a feminist icon and one of the most widely recognized leaders of the second-wave women’s movement, died on Wednesday at 92. Since she shed the bunny suit after her 11-day stint on the job at the Playboy Club, she went on to cofound New York Magazine and Ms. Magazine, which changed the course of the abortion rights movement with its “We Have Had Abortions” petition in which high-profile women admitted to having illegal abortions, Steinem among them. She played a pivotal role in spearheading some of the most influential and successful women’s rights efforts. And in 2013, she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her lifetime of work as a journalist and activist.

Still, with all the aforementioned accomplishments, and decades later, Steinem said that her naysayers used her bunny work in an attempt to discredit her. For decades she considered the story a “professional error of gigantic proportions.” But later, she changed her tune.

“I’m not sorry I did it,” she told Ronan Farrow in 2020, when she was 86 years old. “But it is true that as old as I am, when anybody wants to put me down, they say, ‘Well, she was once a bunny.’ ”

In Steinem’s “Famous Last Words” interview, released on Netflix following her death, she closed the segment by addressing the audience. “Please tell your own story,” she said. “This is the most important thing we can do for each other: is to know each other through stories.”

I was hesitant to tell this story, and stewed over the potential risks I would be taking by telling it, but then I thought of the risk Steinem took. She dealt with fallout and she grappled with the ways the article may have hurt her career more than helped. But of the ample wisdom she imparted, its the power of women’s stories to shift culture, change policy and empower other women that feels most resonant.

I didn’t discover Steinem’s “I Was a Playboy Bunny” exposé until I was in college. I was in my late twenties at the time because I’d taken a few detours after I left high school, most of them dead ends.

One such detour led me through the massive hedge-lined gates of the Playboy Mansion. I was 18, and the E! reality series “The Girls Next Door” sparked renewed interest in Playboy bunnies. I wish I could say that I’d arrived at the mansion on an undercover magazine assignment, but the reality was different. I’d been watching a rerun of the E! show from a bedbug-ridden townhome in downtown Los Angeles, and earlier that day I grappled with whether I should pay my parking debt or buy a burrito.

I watched as the girls bounced around the mansion, appearing carefree, bedbug-free and parking ticket-free. Their lives, produced and edited as they were, appeared to be stable and glamorous, and I thought, “Hmm, maybe I should do that.” If Hefner was good at anything, it was creating a facade.

Like Steinem found, applying to be a Playboy bunny was surprisingly simple. I emailed a photo of myself in a swimsuit and shortly afterward, an invitation to a casting call at the mansion arrived.

At the casting call, I was handed a satin robe and pointed toward a small tent where I could change and a large tent with the photo crew inside. Steinem had likened wearing the bunny suit to feeling like meat on a hook. I, too, couldn’t shake the thought of a meat factory and almost instantly, realized I wanted off the conveyor belt.

My trip to the mansion and endeavor to become a bunny was short-lived. I’d driven there feeling like a femme fatale, and left feeling naive and out of my depth. Worse, it was just another humiliating misadventure that I’d carry around for years with shame.

That is until I came across her story in her essay collection “Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions.”

Steinem said that she was pigeonholed because of the story. She struggled afterward to be taken seriously and that may be true, but I’d argue an opposite point. Because Steinem was ultimately held in such high regard as a journalist and activist, and because she was an undercover bunny along the way, she helped the bunnies of the world to take themselves a little more seriously, to see that beyond the bunny suit, there is a world of possibilities waiting for them.

In the collection, originally published in 1983 and reprinted several times, Steinem wrote that after a town-hall meeting in New Bedford, Mass., a little girl of 6 or 7 gave her a crayon drawing of her in the bunny costume copied from a photo that had circulated online. “ ‘Even if a girl looks silly,’ she said, ‘boys should know that’s she’s smart.’ ”

“This story may outlast me,” she wrote. “but it’s not going to outlast or outsmart that little girl.”

In the book, Steinem wrote that one longer-term result of the article was “realizing that all women are Bunnies. After feminism arrived in my life, I stopped regretting that I had written the article.”

The line “All women are Bunnies” stands out. But what I imagine she meant is, bunnies are just women.

Jopsie Eccles says they were told to pay £170 or go to court

A mum has blasted the “ridiculous” £170 airport parking fine she received after a five-minute drop-off led to the threat of court. Josie Eccles had travelled to the airport with her husband, 33, to catch a flight to Malta with her mum and three-year-old son.

The 32-year-old claims her husband pulled into the drop-off zone at around 2pm, unloaded their luggage and said goodbye before heading off. But the couple later realised they had forgotten to pay the airport’s £5 drop-off charge within the required 24-hour period.

Josie says they accepted they would have to pay a penalty and even tried checking the airport’s payment portal for the charge – but no fine appeared. “My husband was there for under five minutes,” said Josie, a marketing consultant from Cheshire.

“A couple of days later, I was still in Malta and was speaking to my husband on the phone and asked if he had remembered to pay the charge. I was frustrated that both of us had forgotten to pay within the allocated window, but aware that these things happen and just accepted we would probably have a penalty to pay.

“My husband then checked the payment portal on the website where you usually pay the charge and entered the vehicle details, expecting to see a penalty fine, but nothing was there. I tried again a few days later, and still no charge appeared, so we thought we’d just wait and see if we got a letter in the post.”

But it wasn’t until almost two months later that Josie says she opened a letter from a debt collection firm. The letter claimed she had ignored previous correspondence and said the charge had risen to £170. Josie was given the option of paying the £170 in full or £42.50 over four months, while the letter warned the amount could increase further and potentially lead to court action.

She says she was stunned because she had never received the original parking charge notice. Josie said: “I was very confused, as it had been two months since the airport drop-off and I had received no correspondence at all so to receive a letter from a debt recovery company seemed rather extreme. At this point, I thought it must be a misunderstanding, and I would be able to resolve the issue by speaking with them.”

Josie claims she immediately tried to appeal the charge through Manchester Airport’s car parking operator, APCOA. But she says she received an automated response telling her that she had missed the appeal window and that the matter had already been passed to debt collectors.

She then called the debt recovery firm to explain what had happened. According to Josie, they told her that Manchester Airport had evidence that a letter had been sent to her on June 5. But when she asked whether it had been sent by tracked or recorded delivery, she was allegedly told it hadn’t.

Josie says this left her in an impossible position because the original letter contained the information she needed to pay the penalty. She said: “Not at any point did I try to get out of paying anything. I just wanted the opportunity to pay the initial fine, which would have been £60 if paid within 14 days.

“The only way I would know how to pay the penalty fine was by reading the instructions sent in the letter, so without the letter I had no chance of ever paying the charge before it was handed over to debt recovery. He said my options were to either pay the fine in full, which is £170, or I could seek independent legal advice and email in a dispute that they would look into it.”

In the meantime, Josie says she received two further letters threatening potential court action and warning that the amount could rise to up to £235. Josie claims she contacted the debt firm again and says a member of staff confirmed that her emails had been received but told her the company would not investigate disputes.

She says she was told her choices were to pay £170 or go to court, where the charge could potentially rise. She alleges she was then told that Manchester Airport would be responsible for taking any court action. Josie said: “I completed an online enquiry for Manchester Airport explaining I wanted to pay the £60 fine, detailed my communication with the debt company and reattached the dispute I had submitted to them with all the legal grounds.

“Within 10 seconds of submitting, I had received an AI response stating this had been handed over to debt recovery and I should liaise directly with them. I then forwarded that response along with my online enquiry submission to the complaints department, saying that was not an adequate response and I would like somebody to review the case so I can resolve this and pay the £60 fine.

“I have still not had any response or acknowledgement.”

Josie insists that she accepts responsibility for forgetting to pay the original £5 charge on 30 May but she believes the escalation is unfair because she claims she was never given the opportunity to respond to the original penalty.

She said: “I’m extremely frustrated. I hold my hands up; we forgot to pay the standard £5 charge within the next 24 hours, so a fine was expected, but to increase it to up to £235 was ridiculous. If I had been ignoring communication, it would maybe be justified, but I have responded to every bit of communication I have received, which surely shows I would have responded had I received the initial letter.

“I can afford to pay the fine; it’s not about financial difficulty. It’s about the principle of the system being set up to catch you out and the lack of reason they have. If the letter is so important, surely it would be sent tracked?

“Or at least they would try a few attempts before sending it over to debt collectors.”

She believes airports should introduce a free grace period for motorists who are only at the terminal for a few minutes. Josie added: “I’ve used Manchester Airport many times both before and after this encounter and always paid the drop-off charge on time.

“They’ll have a record of this on their system, which validates the fact I did not intentionally avoid paying. Sometimes people forget and these things happen. Other passengers could easily make the same mistake.

“It’s very easy to forget. There’s no option to pay at a machine or barrier while you’re there, so they are relying on people remembering to pay later on, which, whether you’re the person travelling through the airport or the person doing the drop-off, it’s easy to get distracted.

“I’m sure that’s why they removed the barriers, as they knew it would catch people out. The cars are logged using ANPR on their registration plates, so surely you should be able to pay on the same payment system even if outside the 24-hour window, with an additional penalty charge added.

“I think it’s ridiculous airports charge you for drop-off and pick-up. I think under 10 minutes should be free, but unfortunately all airports in the UK at least charge these days.”

An APCOA spokesperson said: “We have been in contact with the customer and offered the original charge of £60. The customer has since made payment of the £60, and the matter is now resolved.”

Manchester Airport has been contacted for comment.

When partygoers in Ibiza were enjoying a fun evening of drinks and good music, the last thing they expected was for a 90s icon to take to the stage and start DJing

Ibiza is the perfect holiday destination for people who want to let their hair down and dance the nights (and maybe days) away. From Pacha to Amnesia, there are so many clubs to choose from that will guarantee you a good night filled with good music, and whoever is DJing is likely to put on a really good show.

But people were left gobsmacked when a woman got up to DJ in the party capital, and they realised who was performing. She’s a complete legend who has a whopping nine number one singles under her belt and two number one albums.

Have you guessed who it might have been DJing in Ibiza yet? Here are some other clues…

She rose to fame with four other bandmates, and their hits included ‘Too Much,’ ‘Holler / Let Love Lead the Way,’ and, of course, if you hadn’t already guessed it, ‘Wannabe’.

But it was 52-year-old Mel C holding it down on the decks playing millennial banger after banger in Ibiza, and her set went down a storm with fans.

Mel C was bringing the vibes and the sass as she boogied in an outfit that showed her rock-hard abs – she is Sporty Spice after all.

Kevin Coundon, who posts on Instagram as @mr.kevin.at.home, shares lifestyle content and more, and on top of his video of Mel C, he wrote: “POV: Ibiza finally starts playing music for the millennials”.

First off, Mel remixed ‘King of my Castle’ by Wamdue Project, which came out in 1997, then a snippet of ‘You’ve Got the Love’ by Candi Staton was remixed, too. Then, the last snippet showed Mel C singing along to DJ Rui Da Silva’s ‘Touch Me’.

Kevin captioned his video: “Who decided Ibiza had an age limit anyway? Good music, an incredible crowd and one of those nights where you completely forget what time it is… and we did!”

In the comments, people raved about how much of a “legend” she is, saying “she was the most last Saturday” when they saw her DJing.

“Wow, I wish I was there,” someone wrote, with another saying that she was “an icon and goals”.

Another wrote: “What a night”. Someone else noted: “Our kind of party.”

A different social media user also said: “Always thought Mel would smash it as a DJ. Mixy Spice now. I liked her solo stuff.”

One more also responded: “That’s Sporty Spice? Wow, playing the tuuuunnnneeesss.”

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.

Beau Greaves made darts history by becoming the first woman to win a match on the European Tour.

The 22-year-old, who was edged out 6-5 by Rob Cross on her European Tour debut in Hungary last week, beat Daryl Gurney 6-4 in the Czech Open.

Gurney beat Greaves in a deciding set in their first-round match at the PDC World Championship in December and he moved into a 3-1 lead in Prague.

However, Greaves reeled off three straight legs with 14, 13 and 11-dart finishes to go 4-3 in front and, even though Gurney levelled at 4-4, she went on to take victory and become the first female winner in the European Tour’s 15-year history.

“It feels amazing,” said Greaves, who will play world number two Luke Humphries in the second round on Saturday.

“It’s just so nice to win a game, I was so nervous at the start, I don’t know why. It took me so long to get settled, but luckily I did enough to win the game.

“It means loads to me, the crowd’s fantastic. It’s such a tight stage and you feel so much from the crowd. I’m really enjoying it and loving the experience.”

It is the latest in a list of achievements for Doncaster’s Greaves which include her becoming the first woman to win a PDC ranking title when she beat Michael Smith in April.

She is also the first woman to hit a nine-dart finish on the PDC ProTour, having done so in a win against Mensur Suljovic in February.

Greaves also won the Women’s World Matchplay for the third time when she beat Fallon Sherrock in July.

On facing Humphries, she added: “I’ve played Luke on the big stage before so I know what to expect, he’s world class so I’m going to have to play a lot better than I did tonight.

“What more do you want than on a Euro Tour to play one of the best players in the world? I’ll look forward to it and I’ll be ready.”

Ten years ago, I went with my older daughter and a group of her classmates to see Gloria Steinem speak. Though they were part of a feminist group recently formed at their all-girls Catholic high school, some were not quite sure who Gloria was, exactly. My daughter knew her mostly as my former “boss”; my first job out of college had been as an editorial assistant at Ms. magazine. That was back in the ‘80s — ancient history.

I was a tiny bit nervous about how the evening would go. Gloria herself was in her 80’s by then; how would she connect with a group of teenagers who had come of age post-post-everything in a social media world of makeup tutorials, fit checks, and so much rage bait?

By being precisely herself, as it turned out. Calm and witty, impassioned and informed, clear-eyed yet hopeful, Gloria enthralled them — and the entire audience — for almost two hours. By the time we left, the girls were ready to follow her anywhere.

“She’s a rock star,” my daughter breathed.

That she was. Gloria Steinem did not invent feminism, not even its second wave, but for many years she was its most recognizable frontwoman. Tall, slender, with (for many years) aviator glasses framed by her signature long, straight hair, she was the Jackie Kennedy of the women’s movement: a physical dismissal of all those childish critics who deride feminists as an army of unlovely and unloved women, devoid of humor and, most likely, surrounded by far too many cats.

Even so, how she looked was beside the point. No feminist I know ever wanted to look like Gloria; we all wanted to be like her. Smart, funny, incisive, generous and, perhaps above all, unflappable.

For an activist organizer, she had a low center of gravity. Her speech was measured, her tone was mellow — even when calling out the most outrageous hypocrisies, the most sinister forms of oppression, she rarely if ever raised it. Though by her own admission she was often furious about many things, her sharpest weapon was always a deadly talent for stating the obvious. “If women could sleep their way to the top, there‘d be a lot more women at the top.” “I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career. ” “A pedestal is as much a prison as any small, confined space.” “This is what 40 [or 50] looks like.”

She believed in shaping the future by being fearlessly frank about the present and the past. For more than seven decades, she helped millions strip away the veils of hierarchy, patriarchy and all the stories spun about gendered expectations to confront the actual experience of women’s lives. “If the shoe doesn’t fit, must we change the foot?”

She never incited anger; she simply pointed out the facts as she saw them and let human nature take its course. “The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”

Gloria listened as much as she spoke, and with great attention and democracy. When I worked at Ms., she was always running late, invariably having been pulled into some conversation or other. Her assistant groaned over her calendar; Gloria would say “yes” when asked for help, even if it meant being two places at once.

She often came in for staff meetings to which everyone was invited and, when discussing ideas for future issues, would ask for, and attentively listen to, the opinions of even a lowly editorial assistant like myself. Her interest was sincere, astonishing and made for very long meetings. Wherever she went, it was the same. She needed to know what all manner of women thought about a wide variety of topics. More important, she wanted them to learn the habit of speaking up. In a private meeting or a public forum, to colleagues, politicians, friends, the boss or even a feminist icon, she wanted women to be unafraid of saying what they thought.

When I worked at Ms., and for many years after, people would invariably ask me: “What’s Gloria Steinem like?” and it was, and remains, impossible to describe. She was kind when she didn’t need to be, generous with her attention when no one expected it. She didn’t want laws and social constructs to be fairer, less dangerous, more fulfilling for women as a concept; she wanted it for you, for me, for the lady in the back row.

She gave aura but also advice about where to find discount shoes. She instantly claimed any room she entered and then made sure there were snacks. She believed that the world could change, that with work, we could change it. But she also believed in having fun; otherwise why bother?

On the day Gloria Steinem died at 92, I awoke to a text from one of the friends I made all those years ago at Ms.; soon there were four of us on the thread. I had just arrived in New York to take my youngest daughter back to college, and we had planned to meet one of those friends in Union Square at noon. Instead, we met at Gloria’s brownstone and laid flowers along the fence outside her door. It seemed the least we could do.

My youngest never got to hear Gloria speak and, at 19, she is too young to know who Gloria was, exactly. Which was always the point of all that Gloria did. She didn’t want the future to feel beholden to the past; she just wanted it to be better. And despite the recent setbacks, particularly in reproductive rights, and all the work that still has to be done, it is.

There stood my daughter. Like her sister, she never doubts for one minute that she is a first-class citizen, entitled to equal rights, bodily autonomy, basic respect and a life of her choosing. God help the poor souls who try to tell them different.

“She’s a big part of why you are here,” I tell her. “Of why your life at 19 is so better than mine was, and why mine, at 19, was so much better than hers.”

That’s not just a rock star; that’s a revolutionary.

Cathy Engelbert will retire as WNBA commissioner at the end of the year, ending a tenure of seven-plus years that saw both tremendous growth and some turmoil for the league.

“In 2019, I had the privilege of being appointed the league’s first commissioner and to lead a league with enormous potential yet untapped awareness and significant undervaluation,” Engelbert said in a statement released by the WNBA. “Over the years, it has been amazing to watch WNBA players thrive and lead the massive cultural surge around women’s sports.”

Engelbert, 61, told the Associated Press that she has been considering retirement for months and wasn’t pressured into making the decision by NBA or WNBA stakeholders. She added that she will help with finding the next commissioner and with the transition period that follows.

“We’ll run a real succession process in the remaining four months,” Engelbert told AP. “If we don’t find someone, I’ll stay on.”

During Engelbert’s tenure, the WNBA has experienced record TV ratings and robust attendance, with a lucrative media rights deal being finalized this year and plans in place for expansion to 18 teams by 2030. An influx of talented and popular young players — including Caitlin Clark, Angel Reese and Paige Bueckers — helped along those lines.

Engelbert also helped the league and its players’ union agree on a new collective bargaining agreement this spring, resulting in the first million-dollar salaries for WNBA players.

Still, the negotiations leading up to the CBA were strained at times. Other issues surrounding the league — including player safety, the eligibility of transgender players, and the inconsistency of on-court officials — have caused some to question Engelbert’s leadership ability.

“Cathy has presided over the WNBA through the most significant period of growth in the league’s 30-year history,” NBA commissioner Adam Silver said in the WNBA’s news release. “We are grateful for Cathy’s leadership and unwavering commitment to the advancement of women’s basketball.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

At the top of Gloria Steinem’s “Famous Last Words” interview on Netflix, Brad Falchuk describes the writer and activist as “the face of the feminist movement” for the last 50-plus years — and Steinem says she hopes that isn’t true.

“I hope I wasn’t the face of the feminist movement,” Steinem says during the intimate conversation released Thursday on the streamer after her death at age 92. “Because it’s not right. … It’s a diverse movement, and, actually, on the issues, in public opinion polls, women of color are more likely to support the issues than white women.”

According to a Netflix news release, Steinem sat down with Falchuk in February 2025 for the interview she knew would not be released until after her death. In “Famous Last Words: Gloria Steinem,” the celebrated feminist reflects on her life and legacy in terms of her political activism, as well as her family and upbringing, relationships with other feminist figures and her hopes for the future.

Steinem maintained her hopes, even in a post-Roe vs. Wade world. When the landmark decision was overturned by the Supreme Court in 2022, it meant states could again outlaw abortion.

“I get angry or disappointed and so on [thinking about it], but I don’t lose all hope in the future,” Steinem said, before sharing observations about previously living near an abortion clinic.

Women are “still struggling,” she said. “There’s still religious restrictions that many people feel. There’s, I’m sorry to say, race and class restrictions.

“We have, right as we speak, Trump in the White House. So we have no shortage of things we need to do in order to be compassionate toward each other.”

One of the most recognizable feminist figures of our times, Steinem was known for her role in launching Ms. magazine as well as organizations such as the National Women’s Political Caucus and the Women’s Action Alliance. When asked by Falchuk to reflect on her “feminist awakening,” she mentions that her time in India studying Gandhi was when she “realized that patriarchy was made up. Racism was made up.”

But the interview has its lighter moments. For instance, Steinem reveals she finds joy in reality TV, including “Dance Moms.”

“It’s shows in which you see real people being who they are and disclosing their own stories,” Steinem said. “Those are more fun.”

And although she seems hesitant about contemplating her own “nonexistence,” she does share how she wants to be remembered: As “this person who tried to make the world a little more equal, compassionate, joyful, funny than it was when I showed up.”

“I just hope that I have, however accidentally, left behind some words or actions or stories or something that is useful to the people — and pleasurable, hopefully — to the people who are going to continue long after you and me,” she said.

Falchuk, also an executive producer of the “Famous Last Words” series, described Steinem in a news release as “the steady heartbeat of a revolution, but in this room, she was a woman reflecting on the simple, profound beauty of human connection.”

“She spoke about the intersection of race, gender, and peace with a wisdom that only comes from a lifetime on the front lines. Even in her final moments, she was organizing us, challenging us to keep moving forward. It is an extraordinary privilege to share her final thoughts with the world.”

After her conversation with Falchuk, Steinem was given the opportunity to share her final words alone, directly addressing the audience through the camera. Read her full message below.

“Hello, all you unique individuals out there. I’m so glad to be meeting you through the magic of the media. I wish I could meet each one of you in person. But in a way, this is what allows us now to see each other’s lives, to influence each other’s lives, to respect each other, and to, therefore, perpetuate what we hope is a global democracy.

“Please feel free to respond in any way you can. And please tell your own story. This is the most important thing we can do for each other — to know each other through stories. And I hope so much that whoever you are, listening right now, you are able to do what you love [and] to be … the unique person you are.”

A pair of top executives are out at Good Good Golf less than two weeks after the content creator and apparel brand posted, then deleted, an ad that has been highly criticized for making light of violence toward women.

Good Good chief executive officer Matt Kendrick and president Joe Flannery have left the company, multiple media outlets reported Wednesday. Business Insider published an internal staff memo from chief operating officer Alex Puchala that announced the departures without mentioning the controversial ad for the Good Good Callaway Quantum Driver.

Kendrick was one of the co-founders of the company, which started as a YouTube channel in 2020, and has since become one of golf’s biggest content creators. He told Front Office Sports late last month that he did not see the video before it was posted and added that he wasn’t in the practice of approving every one of the company’s social media posts.

Flannery was a recent hire whose first day on the job was Aug. 21, the same day the ad dropped.

“Effective today, Matt has decided to step down as CEO of Good Good and Joe has chosen to part ways as well,” Puchala wrote. “This is a difficult day for the entire Good Good family. Matt helped build something extraordinary that exceeded all expectations and continues to bring countless new fans to the sport. What began as a small group of friends playing golf is now a growing global community.”

Company co-founder Nahid Giga will serve as interim CEO, Puchala wrote. Neither Puchala nor Good Good immediately responded to requests for comment.

The ad depicted a man, played by Good Good co-founder Garrett Clark, shoving a woman to the ground as she reaches for one of his golf clubs. “Do not touch my new driver,” he says as he stands over her. Clark remains with the company as part of the creator team, according to Puchala’s memo.

Both Good Good and Callaway issued apologies for the ad in the days following its deletion. Clark also posted a lengthy video on social media in which he apologized for “the worst ad known to man.”

“This is not at all what we stand for,” Clark said. “… I want everyone to know that I do not support [domestic violence], abuse or any of that of any kind.”

On Aug. 27, Callaway announced it had cut ties with Good Good after a three-year business relationship and committed $1 million “to support organizations working to prevent violence against women, provide resources to survivors, and advance education and awareness efforts.”

The next day, Kendrick criticized Callaway in a post on his X account.

“Interesting that @CallawayGolf asks us to make an ad then approves it then asks us to take the fall then drops us in a coordinated media blitz and covers it up by giving a million dollars away thinking everyone will be ok with it,” Kendrick wrote.

He took a much more reserved approach related to the split with Callaway when talking to Front Office Sports the same day.

“They severed ties with us. We completely understand that position and this is a situation no one wants to be in,” Kendrick said. “And we apologize to everyone for being in this position, and I apologize to Callaway that all of us are here. I understand everyone’s position and I get it.

“We loved being with Callaway for a long time. They were nothing but great to us the entire time we were together. I just hate that this is how it ended.”

For more than three decades, Liz Phair and Sleater-Kinney existed in parallel without ever quite meeting. They admired one another from afar, brushed shoulders only in passing, and, in some ways, represented opposing ways of challenging the limits placed on women in indie rock. Phair, who found novel and peerlessly smart ways to write about heterosexual skirmishes, used her ambitions to edge closer to the mainstream; Sleater-Kinney, one of the great duos of American rock, have succeeded in becoming the last band standing from the underground scene in which they emerged.

Both acts are about to share the stage for the first time, co-headlining a tour they’ve cheekily and earnestly named the Flannel and the Fury, with stops across the country, from El Cajon, Calif., to Ocean City, Md., and a night at Los Angeles’ Greek Theatre on Tuesday.

Yet, despite having spent more than 30 years orbiting the same world, they have had surprisingly little time together. This interview is one of a few substantial conversations they’ve ever had. It is, at first, slightly stilted. Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker (Sleater-Kinney) are in sync as always; Phair is clearly excited, but seemingly unsure of where to place herself in the dynamic. Now all in their 50s, the women have been asking similar questions of the same culture, and are only now getting the chance to compare answers.

“Sorry, I know you’re like, ‘Why aren’t you better friends?’ For me, that’s the point. I’m trying to be better friends,” says Brownstein. “Yeah, talk to us again when tour’s over,” Tucker adds.

Brownstein is sitting in a parking lot in Los Angeles, wearing a cardigan and glasses, people walking past her window, unaware of who’s inside. Tucker calls from her home, a blurred background behind her, wearing a white blouse and lipstick. Phair is at home too, makeup on and hair straightened, various musical instruments on the wall behind her. It’s a few weeks before their co-headlining tour, and Tucker has already loaded up all the equipment. She’s packed her suitcase too, full of socks she’ll throw away by the end of tour, and a wardrobe almost entirely of black.

“This is news to me,” says Brownstein. “I was thinking more of a chocolate brown. I will be all brown town.”

Phair is going for wine-like jewel tones. “A Cab Sav,” to be specific.

Phair, who’s had an on-and-off relationship with touring, is noticeably more nervous than Brownstein and Tucker. “It takes me two or three shows to get into it. At first I’m like, why are you all staring at me?”

Phair had been sitting on the idea of a co-headlining tour with Sleater-Kinney for a few years. She sheepishly says that she didn’t reach out herself, but got her manager to do it while she was working on the second half of her memoir. She’s been keen to share a bill with Sleater-Kinney ever since she heard their 1996 album “Call the Doctor.”

“By then, I’d started to pull back from indie rock,” says Phair. “I had gotten married, and I didn’t know I was pregnant at the time, but I was starting to drift out of this scene, and then they put out this kick-ass record, and I just remember thinking, I kind of want to be back in the game. It inspired me. It stuck with me.”

Phair felt she was atomized from the female coalitions of the ’90s, and that this co-bill might be a way to rectify that. “I’d love to be able to go back and sew it together again,” she says. “Here’s a band I was a fan of that meant something to me and now I can play with them.”

For Sleater-Kinney, Phair has long been more than a neighboring act. Tucker and Brownstein describe her as one of their “biggest inspirations.” Both have the same Phair favorite song: “Divorce Song.” “It’s a perfect song,” says Tucker. “I think I’ve put it on every mixtape I’ve ever made,” Brownstein adds.

By the time Phair released her debut album, “Exile in Guyville,” in 1993, she was the one of the two acts edging toward the mainstream. Within a year, she was on the cover of Rolling Stone.

“I still have a copy of the magazine,” says Brownstein. “We were all so excited. Like, an actual artist made the cover.”

Nirvana had made this small corporate alliance permissible a couple of years earlier, finding a loophole as Cobain wore a T-shirt that read “Corporate Magazines Still Suck” on their Rolling Stone cover. It was a time when an antiauthoritarian stance was the only artistically credible one. Before we started calling one another “performative,” Tucker, Brownstein and Phair came from a time when “poser” was the worst insult and sin. They came from a scene of ideological puritanism.

“You know when people die their life flashes before their eyes, sometimes, it’s like that when I do a deep dive, and I’m like, God, there were a lot of rules. There was a lot of fear. And I don’t think anyone who wasn’t there would be able to picture it,” says Brownstein. “It took us a long time to get over it.”

“OK, can I ask the question? Can I get right in here? Because I want to know,” Phair chimes. “Do you think that’s because there weren’t enough women? You think women would have brought the inclusivity to inclusivity?”

“Unfortunately, no,” replies Tucker.

“We had these all-female festivals in Olympia, and we had our own publicist, and they were like, how dare we?” says Brownstein. “You know, it was just gatekeeping, that now seems sort of repugnant. But it was also a way to establish yourself in opposition to what felt like the only way to be.”

It’s part of why Sleater-Kinney declined an invite to play Lilith Fair, the mainstream precedent for so-called female solidarity in music. One of history’s most famous traveling all-female festivals, Lilith Fair was considered by many in the Riot Grrrl movement to be an early symbol of the commodification of “girl power,” female solidarity aligned with corporate ideals.

Sleater Kinney

(Robin Laananen)

“It seems like they haven’t really given credit to women in an independent milieu who have organized a lot of female-only shows for years,” Brownstein told the Dallas Observer in 1998.

“I think at the time we thought we were too cool to play Lilith,” Tucker reflects.

“I’ll just leave your answer,” says Brownstein.

Then she changes her mind four seconds later.

“I saw the Lilith Fair documentary last year and got FOMO, I kind of regretted not playing” she says. “But at the same time we had a handicap from a small indie punk community that was kind of didactic, there was a real rigidity to what you were and weren’t allowed to do. Even us signing with Matador in the U.K. was considered too big.”

Selling out, they all conclude, is no longer a concern for anyone. Phair’s son, who is Gen Z, often says the phrase “it’s time to get the bag.”

“You know, every artist has the right to get their bag,” says Phair. “I always felt that way and I was especially vilified for it.”

That vilification reached its apex when she released her mainstream-aspiring self-titled album in 2003, an album Sleater-Kinney said they hated in an interview with Rolling Stone that year, and which Pitchfork gave a rare 0.0 score in one of its most notorious reviews.

“I’d be on tour doing 10 interviews a day back-to-back, and I almost had to give these interviewers therapy, because they were so sad about my turn from indie rock,” says Phair.

Phair is adamant she made her mark on “every one of those songs, except maybe ‘Favorite,’” she says, referencing the chintzy, awkwardly phrased track where she sings about her underwear. Maybe it’s a metaphor, but more likely, it is just a song about her underwear. Safe to say it won’t be on the show’s setlist: “I will never play it live.”

The old argument about selling out now sits inside a very different touring economy. Sleater-Kinney and Phair’s co-headlining tour happens to follow a flood of co-headlining tours this year, from indie acts like Waxahatchee and MJ Lenderman to big marquee names like Usher and Chris Brown. With higher ticket prices and more competition — not only with other touring bands but with the allures of home comforts — audiences need a bigger draw. Artists want an opportunity to play to big audiences, as well as a better chance of “getting the bag.”

All three artists insist they won’t necessarily bring home the bag, nor is that why they’re doing this.

“All our budget’s gone on to the lighting designer,” jokes Brownstein.

“When I do these interviews with you guys, I get kind of excited and nervous because I feel challenged in the best way,” says Phair. “I think co-headlining bills, it does let you go into bigger venues than you could by yourself. But it also, for me, gives me creative food, like nutrition. It makes me grow.”

Eating breakfast in a South Dakota coffee shop, Gloria Steinem was all too aware of the couple eyeballing her from the next booth. He was sporting chains. She wore leather pants and what Steinem later recalled as “an improbable hairdo.” The place was packed with tough-looking, mostly male bikers pumped about a huge rally they were attending. Steinem, returning from a Sioux powwow honoring ancient tribal women, knew she wasn’t in her element.

Finally, the leather-clad woman came over and spoke up. “I just want to tell you how much Ms. magazine has meant to me over the years — and my husband too,” she told an astonished Steinem.

There was a time, the woman said, when rolling down the road meant perching on her husband’s back seat. But now she had her own sweet ride: “I even put ‘Ms.’ on my license plate, and you should see my grandkids’ faces when Grandma rides up on her purple Harley!”

The image of that breezy, boisterous grandma stayed with Steinem for years. “I’ve come to believe that inside, each of us has a purple motorcycle,” she wrote in her 2015 memoir. “We have only to discover it — and ride.”

Steinem, the co-founder of Ms. Magazine and for six decades a charismatic leader who urged women to pursue self-affirmation, political power and equality both in the workplace and at home, died Wednesday at her home in New York City, according to her foundation’s social media pages. She was 92.

“Gloria lived true to her independent spirit, always with curiosity and a great sense of humor,” the posts said.

An activist, journalist, and relentless traveler who said she went for 20 years without spending more than eight consecutive days in her New York apartment, Steinem described herself as “an entrepreneur of social change.”

“I raise money. I talk. I write. I tell stories. I want to do justice to the women I meet,” she told The New Yorker in 2015.

Steinem, who struggled with stage fright most of her life, talked with women at gigantic conferences and in intimate kaffeeklatsches. At book signings and on barstools, she sought their stories, sometimes re-telling them in her essays and on her countless speaking tours. Her portfolio of issues was vast, from sexual violence, female genital mutilation and racism to the more mundane injustices that helped fuel a movement for sweeping social change.

At one campus visit, the discussion turned to men who expect women to pick up after them. A young Japanese woman, silent for most of the increasingly raucous session, stood up, turned around to address 500 other audience members and said: “When my husband leaves his underwear on the floor, I find it quite useful to nail it to the floor.”

She had never before said a word in public, she told the cheering crowd.

Steinem had a “gift for empathy,” New York Times columnist Gail Collins wrote when the feminist icon turned 80 in 2014.

“Women who read about her or saw her on TV felt that if they ran into her on the street, they would really get along with her. And women who actually did run into her on the street felt the same way. More than a half-century into her life as an international celebrity, she remains stupendously approachable, patient with questions, interested in revelations.”

Gloria Steinem, left, and Pat Carbine, two of Ms. magazine’s founding editors, in 1980.

(Dave Pickoff / Associated Press )

Famously attractive, Steinem over the years gave hope to young women who wanted to “stand up for their rights without being called man-haters,” Collins wrote. “She was evidence that it was possible to be true to your sisters while also being really, really attractive to the opposite sex.”

At the same time, she alienated the religious right with her fervent pro-choice advocacy. When Lands’ End featured an interview with Steinem in its 2016 catalog, outraged readers threatened a boycott. Company officials then cut their ties with the woman they had headlined as a “legend.”

Steinem first drew public notice when she was in her 20s and struggling to establish herself as a freelance writer. Her breakthrough story was a funny, scathing account of her two weeks as a Playboy “bunny” — a scantily clad cocktail waitress at Hugh Hefner’s Manhattan nightclub.

In some ways, the story backfired. Steinem became known not as a crusader for women but as a former bunny. For several years, her magazine assignments continued to veer toward “women’s page” topics — in 1964, she wrote about textured stockings for the New York Times — and even after she delved into serious political issues for New York magazine, she wasn’t taken as seriously as she would have liked.

In 1968, a Washington Post columnist described her as “the mini-skirted pinup girl of the intelligentsia.” Two years later, a headline in the Los Angeles Times read, “Gloria: Beautiful Brain in Ditto Body.”

Meanwhile, the women’s liberation movement had propelled itself into the mainstream, ignited by writers like Betty Friedan. For Steinem, though, it became a passion only after she covered a meeting during which women opened up about their illegal abortions. The event was held to protest a legislative hearing on abortion where the only witnesses were 14 men and a nun.

“Suddenly I was no longer learning intellectually what was wrong. I knew,” Steinem recalled in 1983. “I had had an abortion when I was newly out of college, and I told no one. If one in three or four adult women shares this experience, why should we be made to feel criminal and alone?”

Nearly 60 years after her unwanted pregnancy, Steinem dedicated her memoir to the British physician who arranged her abortion after she agreed to two conditions.

The first was that she never reveal his name. (She did, long after his death.)

The second: “You will do what you want to do with your life.”

Born on March 25, 1934, in Toledo, Ohio, Steinem didn’t attend school regularly until seventh grade. Most winters, her father Leo, an ebullient, 300-pound dreamer who was often in debt, would drive the family down back roads in a trailer, stopping here and there to sell antiques he’d picked up along the way.

Ruth Steinem, Gloria’s mother, was a former journalist who was hospitalized for long periods with severe mental health problems. From the age of 11, after her parents divorced and her older sister Susanne left home, Gloria often cared for her mom.

In an essay, “Ruth’s Song (Because She Could Not Sing It),” Steinem recalled her mother cutting her arm when she smashed a window to escape the Nazi invaders that only she could see. “I remember a long Thanksgiving weekend holding on to her with one hand and holding my eighth-grade assignment of ‘Tale of Two Cities’ with the other,” Steinem wrote.

Despite her patchy schooling, Steinem received a scholarship to Smith College, where she graduated Phi Beta Kappa after majoring in government. After spending two years in India on a fellowship, she worked briefly for an international youth organization funded by the CIA.

Basing herself in New York in 1960, she quickly became known for her stylish prose, sharp wit, and striking appearance. Within a decade she was “Gloria-Steinem-the-antiwar-gorgeous- bachelor girl who was pictured with Henry Kissinger in Time and Life…,” according to a breathless 1970 account in the Los Angeles Times.

But she was also the Gloria Steinem who helped start New York magazine, who wrote insightfully about the intersection between racism and sexism, and who in 1971 became the first woman chosen to address an annual banquet of the Harvard Law Review.

She zeroed in on the school’s failings.

“There is a course on international whaling law but none on women’s rights internationally,” she told the black-tie gathering. “An eminent professor of administrative law said as late as last night that he didn’t know what the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission was. The same man replied to a request that at least one full-time female professor be hired by answering that women faculty brought problems because of ‘sexual vibrations’…”

The following year, Steinem, with several other feminist journalists, founded Ms. Its first, tentative edition, a 40-page insert into New York magazine, sold out in eight days.

The debut issue of Ms. included pieces on gender stereotypes, lesbian relationships, and job discrimination. It also featured an open letter from 53 prominent women — including tennis great Billie Jean King, singer Judy Collins and Steinem — who revealed that they had undergone abortions.

While the magazine’s monthly circulation eventually topped 500,000, it also fueled skeptics. “I’ll give it six months before they run out of things to say,” newscaster Harry Reasoner predicted on national TV.

Ms. also took flak from some of Steinem’s sister feminists, who contended that it cast women as victims. As new waves of feminists confronted different issues, some became exasperated by Steinem’s seemingly perennial role as the face of the women’s movement.

“Guys in the media chose Gloria as our leader,” said feminist writer Susan Brownmiller in 2016. “A lot of us, our hope is that eventually, history will straighten this all out and say, no, Gloria came in a little later, and her very loyal supporters have backtracked that history.”

Steinem remained a contributing editor to Ms. for 15 years.

Gloria Steinem at home in New York City, 2010.

(Annie Leibovitz / Penguin Random House)

Meanwhile, she was crisscrossing the country, campaigning for liberal Democratic candidates, fighting laws restricting abortion, and urging legislators to adopt the Equal Rights Amendment.

“Like Sky Masterson, the wandering gambler in Damon Runyon stories, I’ve been in more hotel rooms than the Gideon Bible,” she wrote, “and he didn’t wash his hair with hotel soap, eat from vending machines, or sit up late organizing with the hotel maids.”

In 2013, President Barack Obama gave Steinem the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation’s highest civilian honor.

Her books include a 1983 essay collection, “Outrageous Acts and Everyday Rebellions”; a 1986 portrait of Marilyn Monroe; her 2015 memoir, “My Life on The Road”; and works on aging and self-esteem.

Over the years, Steinem had longstanding romantic relationships with a number of men but vowed never to marry or have children.

However, at 66, she broke her vow and married David Bale, a British businessman and animal rights advocate. By then, the institution of marriage had changed for the better, she later explained.

“We spent 30 years in the United States changing the marriage laws,” she said. “If I had married when I was supposed to get married, I would have lost my name, my legal residence, my credit rating, many of my civil rights.”

Three years after their marriage, Bale died of brain cancer. Steinem’s stepchildren include the actor Christian Bale.

At 80, Steinem celebrated her birthday by riding an elephant in Botswana.

In the following years, she campaigned for Hillary Clinton, spoke at the Women’s March on Washington, helped save her hometown’s last abortion clinic and gave numerous interviews denouncing President Trump’s views on women. She was the subject of an off-Broadway play and was honored by Rutgers University with the Gloria Steinem Endowed Chair in Media, Culture, and Feminist Studies.

For fun, she danced. When asked by TV hosts, she occasionally demonstrated a well-worn soft shoe routine, though her heart was with the tango.

“It’s a sick, authoritarian dance,” she told a reporter, “but I loved it.”

Chawkins is a former Times staff writer.

American golf brand Good Good has sacked two senior executives following backlash over an advert which showed a woman being pushed to the ground after reaching for a club.

The company, whose YouTube channel has 2.1m subscribers, said it had parted ways with chief executive Matt Kendrick and president Joe Flannery following the release of the advert created for golf club manufacturer Callaway.

Good Good vice-president of brand and marketing Jeffrey Lefkovits was sacked earlier this week.

Head of finance and operations at Good Good, Alex Puchala, said the dismissals on Wednesday were a “difficult day for the entire Good Good family”.

Nahid Giga, a board member and investor in Good Good, has been installed as interim CEO.

The video drew widespread criticism and was accused of making light of violence against women.

Last month Good Good and Callaway removed the advert and issued apologies.

Callaway ended its partnership with Good Good and said it was donating $1m (£736,000) to organisations working to prevent violence against women and support victims.

Good Good, whom Callaway has worked with since 2023, has stepped away from its sponsorship of a PGA Tour event in Austin, Texas, in November.

Good Good products have also been pulled from the shelves of several retailers.

The advert showed Good Good co-founder Garrett Clark rushing over to Alexis Miestowski – a professional golfer and regular content creator for Good Good – and pushing her to the ground before shouting: “Do not touch my new driver.”

The brand, which has become one of the largest content creators in golf, launched its YouTube channel 2020. Regular clips include men and women competing in various golf challenges.

Good Good also creates made-for-TV shows as well as adverts for golf clothing and other merchandise.

Puchala said Good Good was “concouraged by the continued support” of its fans and said it is “focused on moving forward and building the next chapter of the company”.

WASHINGTON — The House voted Tuesday to censure Rep. Chuck Edwards (R-N.C.) following a House Ethics Committee investigation that concluded he engaged in persistent unprofessional and inappropriate conduct toward two young female staffers in his office.

A censure registers the House’s deep disapproval of a lawmaker’s conduct that does not meet the threshold for expulsion from office.

The 413-2 vote was just the latest instance of the House grappling with revelations about lawmakers’ behavior toward female staffers, a trend that prompted House leaders to launch a bipartisan review this year focused on making Capitol Hill a safer job environment for women.

Rep. Michael Guest, the chairman of the House Ethics Committee, said the Edwards case did not involve what he called “quid pro quo sexual harassment,” but rather conduct and behavior that created a hostile work environment.

“While Representative Edwards denies that his conduct was intended to be sexual or romantic, his pattern of behavior would lead a reasonable person to interpret it as such,” Guest said.

Guest said that behavior included providing the aides with lavish gifts, making comments about their appearance and dress, sending notes regarding his affection and inviting them to intimate dinners and vacations. He also said Edwards was aware that the women were uncomfortable with his behavior.

Edwards apologized to the two women, who are no longer on his staff, for actions that put them in an uncomfortable position. He said his intentions were “only grounded in what I understood our friendship to be” and said he admired them. He also apologized to his wife and family, saying they carried a burden they did not create or deserve.

But he also forcefully rejected the committee’s most damaging conclusions and the recommendation that he be censured. He emphasized that the investigative report itself concluded there was no evidence he engaged in sexual activity or explicitly propositioned any staff member.

“I am imperfect. I have made mistakes, but I do not believe I committed sexual harassment,” Edwards said on the House floor. “The factual findings of this investigation do not justify branding me as though I did.”

Edwards was one of the two lawmakers who voted against the resolution. The other was Rep. Ralph Norman (R-S.C.).

Edwards told reporters after the vote that he had expected the result would not go his way. House Speaker Mike Johnson sat with Edwards for a few minutes before the vote and told him how he thought it would go.

“It would not have been politically expedient for anyone to vote against a resolution accusing someone of sexual harassment,” Edwards said.

Edwards stood in the well of the House as the censure resolution was read. When he left the chamber, he remained highly critical of the Ethics Committee’s findings and at one point said the investigation was “very much akin to a Russian show trial.”

Edwards becomes the 29th member in the history of the House to be censured. He was asked about that distinction after the vote and said he lived a terrific life before he got into politics.

“I look forward to getting my life back,” Edwards said.

Edwards is serving his second term in Congress representing a district in western North Carolina. He chose not to seek reelection after the committee issued its report.

Edwards is the latest in a line of ethics cases this Congress

Earlier this year, Democratic Rep. Eric Swalwell and Republican Rep. Tony Gonzales faced calls for their expulsion before they stepped down.

And last month, the Ethics Committee announced it was reviewing allegations that Rep. Jimmy Gomez (D-Calif.) may have engaged in inappropriate sexual contact with a House staffer. He said he would cooperate with the investigation but his actions were consensual in nature and didn’t violate the law or House Ethics rules. He also apologized to his family and constituents.

House members are prohibited from engaging in sexual harassment or making unwanted advances toward their subordinates. The Ethics Committee said that despite the absence of an explicit proposition, a reasonable person could interpret Edwards’ “intimate and effusive attentions, where he prioritized the personal over the professional, as thinly veiled advances.”

Rep. Mark DeSaulnier, the committee’s ranking Democratic member, said the investigation spanned more than four months and included interviews of 16 people and a review of nearly 1,500 pages of documents.

He said Edwards provided the two women with jewelry, designer purses, shoes and flowers and commented on their appearance. He also sent deeply personal letters and even skipped a vote series to decorate a Christmas tree at the home of one of the staffers.

“These are not innocuous, isolated instances,” DeSaulnier said. “They are part of a sustained, unprofessional and inappropriate conduct by Representative Edwards toward two young women he employed.”

Rep. Teresa Leger Fernandez (D-N.M.) said Edwards’ behavior was “outlandish and disturbing.”

“If we don’t take action today, there is no opportunity for these women to receive justice,” Leger Fernandez said.

Freking writes for the Associated Press.

IRVINE — Olivia Rodrigo bridged generations Saturday night as the headlining act at her Daisy Chain Fields festival, where the 23-year-old pop star brought Stevie Nicks, Sarah McLachlan and Alanis Morissette to the stage for duets that demonstrated the enduring value of sharp, smart songwriting about women’s emotional lives.

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With McLachlan, Rodrigo sang “Building a Mystery” and “Angel,” which the two dedicated to Dolly Parton, who died Tuesday at age 80; with Morissette (who filled in for a missing Karen O), Rodrigo did the former’s iconic mid-’90s hit “Ironic.” Later, Nicks came out to close the show with a duet of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide,” inspiring a mass singalong in the audience of approximately 45,000 at Great Park Live. After the song, Nicks stuck around to deliver an apparently extemporaneous tribute to Rodrigo’s artistry and activism that seemed to push the younger singer close to tears.

Irvine, CA – August 29, 2026: Olivia Rodrigo performs during Daisy Chain Fields at The Great Park on Saturday, Aug. 29, 2026 in Irvine, CA.

(Kayla Bartkowski/Los Angeles Times)

Held a few months after the release of Rodrigo’s third studio album, “You Seem Pretty Sad for a Girl So in Love,” Daisy Chain Fields offered 10 hours of music by all women acts, including Chappell Roan, Doechii, Bikini Kill, Garbage, Not for Radio, the Breeders and Mitski, among others. On Friday, Rodrigo announced that the festival would donate $10 million to an array of organizations working for women’s rights and reproductive justice.

The singer’s headlining set mixed new songs from “You Seem Pretty Sad” — one highlight was “Maggots for Brains,” a euphoric pop-punk jam about going crazy in a lover’s absence — with oldies from her first two LPs, 2021’s Grammy-winning “Sour” and 2023’s triple-platinum “Guts.” Rodrigo also debuted a just-released tune called “Serena Joy,” which she titled after a character in Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale.”

Fallout continued Thursday for content creator and apparel brand Good Good Golf over an ad that was supposed to promote a new Callaway driver but ended up being criticized for portraying violence against women.

Good Good announced it would no longer be the title sponsor of a new PGA Tour event in Austin, Texas, in the fall, saying in a statement that the decision came “after thoughtful discussions with the PGA Tour and careful reflection.”

“We recognize that we have work to do as an organization, and our focus right now is on our team, our culture and ensuring we learn from this situation,” the company wrote. “We are grateful for our relationship with the PGA Tour and appreciate their partnership over the years. We remain committed to earning back trust, and we hope to work together again in the future.”

The controversial ad for the Good Good Callaway Quantum Driver depicted a man, played by Good Good co-founder Garrett Clark, shoving a woman to the ground as she reaches for one of his golf clubs. “Do not touch my new driver,” he says menacingly as he stands over her.

The ad was posted on Friday and deleted hours later. Both companies issued apologies days ago, and Callaway announced Thursday it had cut ties with Good Good after a three-year business relationship.

Callaway also said it had “taken appropriate internal corrective actions and significantly strengthened” its content approval procedures and committed $1 million “to support organizations working to prevent violence against women, provide resources to survivors, and advance education and awareness efforts.”

“These actions do not undo the harm caused or excuse our role in it,” Callaway wrote. “We sincerely apologize to everyone who was hurt, disappointed, or offended by this incident.”

A day earlier, Clark posted a lengthy video on social media in which he apologized for “the worst ad known to man.”

“I personally want to apologize for playing the role in this skit, in this ad, at the magnitude that I did,” Clark said. “And then on Good Good marketing team’s behalf, I wanted to say an apology as well because this is not at all what we stand for. … I want everyone to know that I do not support [domestic violence], abuse or any of that of any kind.”

He added at the end: “Hopefully we can move on and grow the women’s side of golf.”

The PGA Tour has expressed disappointment over the video. Chief Executive Brian Rolapp told reporters on Tuesday that Good Good initially did not accept enough accountability for the matter.

Earlier this week, the Golf Channel postponed the premiere of reality show “Big Break x Good Good” because one of the sponsors wanted out. Also, Dick’s Sporting Goods and subsidiary Golf Galaxy removed Good Good’s merchandise from their stores.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Harvard-Westlake and Sherman Oaks Notre Dame are teaming with Nike to hold a unique outdoor girls’ volleyball match on Sept. 12 at 7 p.m. on a custom outdoor court flown in by Nike. The match will be played on Notre Dame’s baseball diamond under the lights and celebrate volleyball and women’s sports.

It’s called Rally in The Valley Fanfest that will include food trucks, a DJ and Nike interactive activities.

Student broadcasters will participate in the event that will feature an all-women officiating crew.

Nike is heavily involved in the promotion of high school sports and recently signed 14-year-old Harvard-Westlake freshman soccer player Zoe Thompson to an NIL deal. Her sisters, Alyssa and Gisele, signed a deal when they were in high school.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email eric.sondheimer@latimes.com.

Three months after Josh Jacobs was arrested on five charges relating to domestic abuse, the Green Bay Packers star running back on Thursday was formally charged with misdemeanor battery and misdemeanor criminal damage to property.

The Brown County (Wis.) District Attorney’s Office released an incident report that asserts that video footage taken inside Jacobs’ garage corroborates the altercation the alleged victim described. However, a felony and four misdemeanor charges pertaining to domestic violence were dropped.

Jacobs’ legal team led by David Z. Chesnoff issued a statement: “The Brown County District Attorney has reviewed evidence and elected to file misdemeanor charges against Josh that do not include domestic violence. The allegations will be addressed in court, and not in the media. Mr. Jacobs respects the District Attorney’s office and the process it followed.”

The report states that on the morning of May 23, police were dispatched to Jacobs’ home near Green Bay because of a disturbance between Jacobs and a woman described as his girlfriend.

The woman told officers she had a lump on her head as a result of a physical struggle with Jacobs. She said she became upset after looking through Jacobs’ phone and seeing he had been talking to other women. Jacobs had her phone, and she told Jacobs he could look through it, but when she tried to take back her phone, he grabbed her arm and she ended up on the floor.

According to the report, the video shows that Jacobs followed her to the garage. When she attempted to exit, Jacobs grabbed her, threw her to the ground and she struck her head. The woman lay on the ground before standing and walking into the house.

The report stated that a responding officer observed redness on the woman’s face and neck and felt the bump on the back of her head.

Retrieving relevant video from the surveillance system in the garage “was complex and took several weeks,” according to the report. Surveillance footage “corroborates the relevant portions of [the alleged victim’s] statements” that occurred in the garage but “does not depict any portion of the incident that is alleged to have occurred inside the residence.”

The day of the incident, Jacobs was charged with felony strangulation and suffocation, and four misdemeanors pertaining to domestic abuse. However, he was released from jail the next day because the District Attorney’s office said it found insufficient evidence to pursue criminal charges.

Three months later, that changed, although neither of the Class A misdemeanors filed Thursday mentioned domestic abuse. Jacobs would be subject to a fine of not more than $10,000 and not more than nine months in jail if he is convicted.

“Our office sought to ensure a fair and complete review of available evidence, some of which only recently became available to our office due to significant, ongoing forensic efforts by law enforcement,” Brown County District Attorney David L. Lasee said in a statement. “A criminal complaint is nothing more than a written, formal accusation against a defendant alleging the commission of criminal offenses and does not raise any inference of guilt. Mr. Jacobs is presumed innocent of these charges.”

The Packers and the NFL both issued statements saying only that they are monitoring the developments and will cooperate with law enforcement.

Jacobs has been one of the top running backs in the NFL since he was drafted out of Alabama in the first round by the Raiders in 2019. He signed a four-year, $48 million contract with the Packers as a free agent after the 2023 season.

Jacobs, 28, has rushed for more than 1,000 yards in four of his seven NFL seasons and last year rushed for 929 yards despite missing two games with a knee injury.

Violence has eased since the US-Iran MoU and Israel-Lebanon framework, but Beirut still reports attacks and demolitions.

A Lebanese woman has been killed, and several other people injured by Israeli strikes on the town of Arab Salim, in southern Lebanon’s Nabatieh district.

Lebanon’s Ministry of Health said six people were wounded in the attacks on Thursday, including a child, a woman and two elderly people, while the state-run National News Agency (NNA) reported that the woman who died “had been married for 48 hours”.

The newlywed woman’s house was also destroyed in the attack, NNA said.

Lebanese security sources said at least 10 Israeli strikes had been carried out in the wider Nabatieh area. NNA also reported artillery shelling targeting the outskirts of the town of Rashaf in the Bint Jbeil district.

The Israeli military claimed it was targeting Hezbollah after the Iran-backed group struck its soldiers in the south overnight. The army said it struck Hezbollah “weapon storage facilities”.

“Israel targeted the town of Arab Salim in the Nabatieh governorate. It targeted a residential area,” said Al Jazeera’s Zeina Khodr, reporting from Beirut about the deadly strike.

“The Israeli army says it is hitting infrastructure, and that this is in retaliation for Hezbollah launching armed drones at its forces in the Ali al-Taher ridge overnight.

“It’s not the first time the Israeli army accuses Hezbollah of targeting its forces in this area, which overlooks the city of Nabatieh’s strategic high ground, which really remains contested territory. We know that the Israeli army wants Hezbollah to vacate this area, so we’re seeing this increase in military pressure,” she said.

According to Israel, Iran-backed fighters “launched two explosive drones” towards Israeli soldiers operating in the Ali al-Taher ridge, but there were no casualties.

Israel has stepped up its strikes on south Lebanon in recent days, following an August 15 wave of strikes that Lebanon said killed 11 people, including several children. Israel’s military said the raids were retaliation for a Hezbollah attack.

Al Jazeera’s Khodr said that while “there has been a reduction in the violence in recent days, we have also witnessed an escalation by the Israeli army”.

“There is growing concern that the [Israeli] army may broaden this offensive, and it may become even more intense,” she added.

Tensions between Israel and Lebanon have been escalating since Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza began in 2023. Lebanon was dragged into the conflict on March 2, days after the US and Israel launched their war on Iran. Hezbollah struck Israel in support of Tehran. This was followed by massive Israeli air strikes and a ground invasion that Lebanese authorities say have killed more than 4,300 people.

The continued strikes have renewed debate in Beirut over the “framework” agreement Lebanon signed with Israel in June, which envisages a phased Israeli withdrawal in exchange for the deployment of the Lebanese army and the disarmament of armed groups, a reference to Hezbollah.

Mark Walter doesn’t need to sell the Sparks. It said so in a release from his company Wednesday: “TWG is not looking to sell its sports assets at ‘fire sale’ prices to raise capital for its insurance operations.”

He should sell the Sparks anyway.

Not because of the investigations into allegations that insurance companies under Walter’s umbrella failed to properly disclose and conduct transactions between other companies he controls.

But for the sake of the storied WNBA franchise, which hasn’t won a championship in a decade and is about to miss the playoffs for the sixth consecutive season — something that would have been unthinkable six seasons ago.

Sell for the sake of the Sparks, who have long deserved an owner who wants seriously to run the team like Walter’s group runs, well, the Dodgers.

With passion and pride, foresight and smarts.

A steel beam is raised as the final structuarl piece of the Sparks’ $150-million training facility in El Segundo on Wednesday.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

And, yes, the new $150-million training facility that’s going to open in El Segundo next year is a better-late-than-never step in that direction.

It’s not too little; the 64,000-square-foot space, which will be tremendous in a prime location near the beach and shopping.

But it’s very late. Wednesday’s topping-out ceremony, when a construction crew lifted the final structural beam into place, doesn’t change that.

While so many of the Sparks’ rivals have had the upper hand in recruiting and retaining talent with state-of-the-art private practice spaces for the past few years, the Sparks have been — to use star forward Nneka Ogwumike’s word — “nomads.”

The Sparks have always offered fans a famously fun game-day experience, but their players had to continually get familiar with facilities all over Southern California, from L.A. Southwest and El Camino College to Academy USA in Glendale to Jump Beyond Sports in Torrance, from Windward School and Galen Center to JR286, the gym in Torrance where they practice now.

Starting next season, they’ll have a home.

A rendering of the Sparks’ new training facility in El Segundo.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

But it’s not because the Sparks’ ownership wanted to do what Mark Davis did with the Las Vegas Aces when he was the first owner to provide fancy new digs in 2023.

Not because they were resolute about giving the Sparks a first-class experience, like Joe Tsai did when he chartered flights for New York Liberty before the league said it was legal, getting himself fined $500,000.

But because the Sparks would fall further behind if they didn’t.

Because now “it’s the bare minimum,” said forward Dearica Hamby, whose input — dedicated spaces for family and naps — was incorporated into the building’s design.

It also will include two regulation basketball courts, a performance and training environment, hydrotherapy and recovery rooms and a player sanctuary.

“It represents a belief in our players,” said Stacy Johns, the team’s president. “It represents a belief in the future of the Sparks. And it represents a belief in where women’s basketball and women’s sports are going.”

Members of the media and guests gather with the Sparks’ front-office staff for the topping-out ceremony in El Segundo on Wednesday.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

Where’s that? Up.

Valuations are growing. In May, CNBC reported that the WNBA’s current teams were worth an average of $460 million — 84% more than the league’s most recent expansion fee of $250 million.

The Sparks — without taking the new facility, the largest investment to date in the history of women’s sports, into account — were valued at $415 million, seventh among the WNBA’s 15 teams.

The Golden State Valkyries, an expansion team in 2025, were valued at a record $1 billion, more than any women’s sports team in history.

That’s because the Valkyries — who are owned by the Golden State Warriors’ Joe Lacob and Peter Guber — have been innovative and imaginative, run more like the Dodgers than the Sparks, who are owned mostly by the same folks as the Dodgers.

The Dodgers instituted a private player-only plane and added Japanese-style toilets after then-recruit Roki Sasaki asked. The Valkyries established a 30-plus network of area bars for fans to gather to watch games and they helped a player with sleeping problems by offering everything from a different comforter to a sleep study.

Rendering of the inside the contrition of the Sparks’ new training facility, including a dining area.

(Ronaldo Bolanos / Los Angeles Times)

The Dodgers gave the keys to Andrew Friedman and Dave Roberts. The Valkyries’ GM is Ohemaa Nyanin, formerly an assistant GM with the WNBA champion New York Liberty, and their coach is former UCLA Bruin Natalie Nakase, before an assistant on Aces championship teams and an NBA assistant for years with the Clippers.

The Sparks have for the past several seasons cycled through unproven coaches and GMs, or fired experienced ones. Unable to pick a lane and drive it, they keep ricocheting between preaching patience and acting impatiently. And at the moment, they don’t even have a GM after firing Raegan Pebley in July.

Johns, who was brought on to oversee the team’s business in April, said things are changing. And change takes time.

The Sparks are 13-25, behind the expansion Portland Fire in the standings and having lost twice to the expansion Toronto Tempo. But they’ve tripled their sports staff this year, adding performance and mental health therapists and additional basketball data people — who apparently aided in the construction of an old, uncompetitive roster.

“I couldn’t tell you what happened or who woke up one day and decided,” said Johns, who worked for the MLS champion LAFC and Super Bowl champion Indianapolis Colts. “But when I was recruited … I was explicitly told like, ‘This is changing,’ and like, ‘We’re hiring you because we want to signal change.’”

The biggest change that could help the Sparks? At the top, with someone who wants to push the envelope instead of compensate and play catchup.

Rendering of the inside the contrition of the Sparks’ new training facility, including a basketball court.

(Ronaldo Bolanos/Los Angeles Times)