Let Them Lead the Way
  October 20, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, We are one week away from Election Day, and I feel super-relaxed about it because I already voted early. So if you, too, want the euphoria that comes with scratching something off your to-do list ahead of schedule, go cast your vote.  In today’s newsletter, we take a look at how Gen Z is voicing their growing discontent across Europe. Plus, an insanely bad scheduling choice and an invite to gab about Liz Holmes. Early voting’s biggest fan, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONThe kids are in the streets: This week, after two years of protesting government corruption, a student-led movement, called Student List, ended the 14-year rule of Serbia’s right-wing party. Student List secured a majority of the seats in the Serbian parliament during the country’s snap parliamentary election. Those seats will now be filled by lawyers, former Serbian celebrities, doctors, and artists who have been part of the Student List movement. The prime minister, Aleksandar Vucic, conceded on Sunday as young people took to the streets of Belgrade in celebration. “For the first time in my adult life, I’m seeing a change of government,” one student told The New York Times. “After so many years under the same leadership, I’m happy that I’ll finally get to live in a free, normal country.”  A MOTHER AND CHILD CELEBRATE STUDENT LIST'S WIN IN BELGRADE. (IMAGE VIA GETTY IMAGES) What happened in Serbia is just the latest in a year that has seen sweeping youth-led movements across much of Europe. Young people are angry in France, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Belgium, Albania, and Greece, and they’ve wielded that collective sentiment to call for change in their respective countries. The protests center around education, housing costs, military spending, climate, and health care—all issues that create an uncertain future for young people. A sociologist speaking to El País explained the rise of activism among young people this way: “Generation Z has grown up through multiple crises—austerity, climate change, the pandemic and now wars—and has been politically shaped by protests in solidarity with Palestine and against Israel’s genocide [in Gaza]. In Italy, we call them the ‘Gaza Generation.’” Stateside, the question has already been raised by scholars: Where is our great youth movement? The answer is, slowly but surely, unfolding right before our eyes. American Gen Zers are marching, running for office, protesting, and quite literally putting their money where their mouths are. Still, the case of Serbia and Student List’s parliamentary takeover—where a newly formed party unseated a longstanding political group—lays bare how much the United States is held hostage by a broken two-party system. If we want our own youth movements to have the impact of Europe’s, we’ll have to address that first. AND:
 ONE MORE THING Have you become one of those people who can’t talk about anything except “You Can See Everything”? Come sit by us! Next Wednesday, November 4, at 1 PM ET, The Meteor Book (and Sometimes Movie) Club is getting together virtually to dissect every last Elizabeth Holmes-ian twist and turn. (There will be spoilers.) If you’d like to join your favorite Meteor pals, sign up here. See you down the rabbit hole!  FOLLOW THE METEOR     Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
The Crime of "Neglecting" a Fetus
  October 22, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, Calling all movie lovers for a gathering of The Meteor’s Book and Sometimes Movie Club! Next month we are gathering to discuss Nathan Fielder’s documentary “You Can See Everything” and all of the everythings that merit a conversation, from Elizabeth Holmes’ motherhood to the Amanda Seyfried of it all. Care to join us? Click the button below for more details. In today’s newsletter, we dive into the disturbing findings of a new report on pregnancy criminalization. Plus, several essential women’s sports updates. Getting the big popcorn, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONThe “floodgates” of pregnancy criminalization: This week, Pregnancy Justice released a study on the status of pregnancy criminalization in the first three years post-Dobbs—and the numbers are bleak. They found that from 2022 to 2025, prosecutors initiated at least 902 cases nationwide charging people with crimes related to their pregnancies or pregnancy outcomes. (For scale, 1,809 such cases were documented by Pregnancy Justice in the entire 50 years that Roe v. Wade was the law of the land.) Since Dobbs was decided, “charges in connection with pregnancy loss are accelerating,” explains Pregnancy Justice’s senior vice-president Dana Sussman—an outcome that’s “unsurprising given that we have…criminalized the provision of abortion.” But most of these pregnancy criminalization cases don’t hinge on anti-abortion laws at all. Instead, boosted by fetal personhood laws, prosecutors are using child abuse, neglect, and endangerment statutes to charge pregnant people with crimes. Here are three of the most shocking and enraging findings from the report. Most of these charges come from just three states.In total, prosecutors in 23 states initiated the study’s documented cases against pregnant people. But of the 902 cases, South Carolina, Oklahoma, and Alabama accounted for 807 of them. Sussman attributes these numbers to fetal personhood laws. She explains that those states’ supreme courts “issued decisions stating that a fetus is a child under the state’s criminal laws. In the case of Alabama, they said an embryo is also considered a child, and that has opened the floodgates.” Most fetal personhood laws predate the Dobbs decision, but Sussman notes that without Roe, “the guardrails are essentially off.” Since 2022, prosecutors have been casting a wider net to ensnare pregnant women regardless of their pregnancy outcome (i.e. a live birth, a loss, or an infant death).  (SCREENSHOT VIA PREGNANCY JUSTICE) Prosecutors don’t need any proof of harm to bring charges.An overwhelming number of the charges brought against pregnant people involved statutes that did not require proof of harm but instead rely on showing a risk of harm in order to convict. For example, neglect was among one of the most common charges, which does not require proof that harm was done to the child in the same way that an abuse or manslaughter charge would. In states with fetal personhood laws, prosecutors are applying laws meant to protect children to fetuses in utero. Law enforcement does “not need to show that the baby is unhealthy, [that] the baby was harmed in any way by the mother, or that the pregnancy was put at risk in any way,” Sussman says. “All they need to show is that the mother's behavior exposed the fetus to some risk of harm.” And what that means in the “vast majority” of these cases, Sussman says, is “exposure to substances.” If a pregnant person tests positive for any illicit substance throughout pregnancy or delivery, “that's all you need to charge the woman and convict her of child neglect in some of these states. And those charges carry a potential life sentence in places like Oklahoma.” Such a heavy sentence is part of the reason prosecutors pursue these statutes: They require less effort to prosecute but yield high results. “It’s the lowest-hanging fruit,” Sussman says. Even lack of prenatal care can be considered neglect.Perhaps the most shocking finding of the report was that, in at least 77 of the cases observed, prosecutors or police argued that “failure to obtain prenatal care was evidence of a crime”—despite the fact that more than one in three U.S. counties are maternal care deserts. While it’s rare to prosecute solely on a charge of neglect via lack of prenatal care, there have been criminal cases in the last three years where that charge was brought up as an aggravating factor in a case. (Nevermind that the fear of criminalization itself often discourages pregnant women from visiting the doctor.) One last thing to keep in mind: Some people’s pregnancies are criminalized far more than others’; nearly three-quarters of the cases in the study involved low-income pregnant people. Another necessary reminder that the government may hate women, but it really hates poor women. AND:
  FOLLOW THE METEOR     Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
Midterms or mad-terms?
  October 20, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, I realize there is a very important midterm election going on, along with a lot of very harrowing and urgent news across the globe, but all I can think of is how to get out of doing kid bedtime so I can sneak off to the Nathan Fielder-Elizabeth Holmes ballet aka “You Can See Everything.” (But can I see everything? This thing is three hours long and I’m tired.)  Jkjk, we are very much locked in and paying attention to November 3rd. Today, we check in with three women working on elections about what they’re witnessing up close. Plus, updates on France and Puerto Rico. NEED TO SEE EVERYTHING, Nona Willis Aronowitz  WHAT'S GOING ONOn the road again: That crispness we all feel in the air signals two things: One, it's time to rewatch "Gilmore Girls" and recall just how shit of a person Rory was, and two, midterms are right around the corner. While there are guides galore on what to expect for the big day, we decided to hit up three of our friends to ask what they’ve seen firsthand and what, if anything, we can do to conjure all the luck we need to survive this election cycle. Shockingly, no one suggested a road trip to Stars Hollow. But these answers are good too! What's the most surprising thing you've seen on the trail? “How far down the ballot people’s enthusiasm goes. In Atlanta, I talked to voters who knew exactly who Rohit Malhorta was, a candidate for Fulton County Commission, before I said more than his name…Voters understand the line from the Republicans on their ballot to what they're dealing with every day from the Trump administration.” —Shaniqua McClendon, vice president of politics, Crooked Media “I’ve seen some incredibly powerful, articulate college student organizers on the trail recently, just absolutely crushing their organizing work.” —Lauren Groh-Wargo, CEO, Fair Fight and Fair Fight Action “Donald Trump having to stump in red states (lol).” —Sarah Sophie Flicker, cofounder, Joy to the Polls What’s most on the minds of the women you’re meeting? “Dobbs is still right there…[Women in] Texas and Georgia have lived through some of the most tragic consequences of that decision, and the women I've met have not forgotten the women who have died or nearly died attempting to get reproductive health care.” —Shaniqua McClendon “Rage, fury—across parties!” —Sarah Sophie Flicker  JOY TO THE POLLS BRINGS JUST THAT. (SCREENSHOT VIA INSTAGRAM) What do you want Meteor readers to know about this Election Day, as opposed to ones in the past? “This Election Day is not the finish line…Even if Democrats win both chambers of Congress, we are up against a motivated, funded, deeply organized autocratic and white supremacist movement…that we will be fighting against for the rest of our lives.” —Lauren Groh-Wargo “Early voting is a very good way to ensure that your vote is counted.” [Editors’ note: But if you didn’t vote early…vote on Election Day!] —Sarah Sophie Flicker What's your Election Day superstition or ritual? “Harassing everyone I know to make sure they voted.” —Shaniqua McClendon “I have a mini-dress from the ‘70s that is handmade from red, white, and blue ‘vote’ fabric. I wear it every election!” —Sarah Sophie Flicker AND:
 THE NEWLY UNVEILED STREET SIGN. (IMAGE COURTESY OF CINDI LEIVE)
 ONE MORE THING: JOIN US IN NYC ON OCTOBER 27! Furious? Same. Bring your righteous rage—at the world and the people who claim to run it—to Joe’s Pub in New York City on October 27 at 9:30 PM for SAY THE WORD! We’ve got an all-star lineup of fantastically furious artists and visionaries—like actor Ashley Judd, poet Patricia Smith, writer Bess Kalb, scholar Dr. Brittney Cooper, comedian Phoebe Robinson, performer Peppermint, singer Lea Delaria and many more—for a night of music, monologues, and action to make our world better. Proceeds will benefit Survivor Justice Network, a coalition of organizations centering survivor voices and building survivor power (hell yes to that). Get tickets here.  FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
Texas Forced Me to Give Birth—Twice
Now I'm fighting back, for myself and my family, against the people who shaped my state's cruel abortion bans.
By Maria Puerto
Today, a mother of two whose life has been torn apart by Texas abortion laws filed a lawsuit against Students For Life. Here, she tells her story in her own words.
https://youtu.be/IJXOttXIkZg?si=b9iWvTreLY2fHwUk
The people who pushed for Texas’s abortion bans don’t know my name. But they should know my story.
I was barely 22 when I found out I was pregnant. I was feeling lightheaded at work when one of my colleagues asked me: “Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
In my mind there was no way I could be pregnant. I had been taking daily birth control pills, and I never missed a dose, not even for a day. I didn’t have the money to buy a pregnancy test, so my colleague got it for me.
It was positive.
At first, I only told my boyfriend. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my mom, but she already knew. We share a bathroom in our tiny home, so my mom started noticing that I hadn’t gotten my period. In the end, it was my boyfriend who confirmed her suspicions. She was furious, especially when she found out I was considering abortion.
“This is not what we do in our community,” she said. “We get married, we buy a house, we have kids.”
In her eyes, I’d done everything wrong. In my culture, you don’t talk about abortion because it’s a sin. You don’t talk about contraceptives because you’re considered a slut.
It didn’t matter anyway. It was 2022. Abortion was already illegal in Texas and I had no way to travel out of state for one, let alone pay for it. And I was too scared of the repercussions if I did.
When you get pregnant in Texas, you lose the right to make your own decisions. My only option was having this baby.
I was living with my mother at the time, working at a convenience store for $7.25 an hour and going to college part-time on a scholarship. A single parent with five kids, my mother had cleaned houses for $35 a house for years to put food on the table. Now, with my mother disabled and aging, it was my turn to give back a fraction of what she gave us.
But in those first few months, I was so sick, always running to the bathroom to throw up. A professor referred to those episodes as “unexcused absences.” Then, I could no longer lift the five-gallon water jugs or the 30-packs of beer my job required at the store. Nothing went unnoticed. My manager was fed up, and he fired me.
I lost my scholarship. I lost my job. I lost my future.
When I was around six months pregnant, my body got swollen to the point where I almost couldn’t walk. My doctors seemed scared for my health. Eventually, they said I needed to be induced early. I labored for 48 hours. After I gave birth, my baby had to be admitted to the NICU. But because I had no car, I had to figure out how to go back to the hospital every day, by myself. Each time I left, I felt like a horrible mother.
Less than a year later, I was a new mom and just starting to piece my life back together with a new job when the cycle repeated. Sitting next to my boyfriend, I texted him the news so no one else could hear it:
“I’m pregnant again.”
“HOW?” he responded.
Once again, I had no words, no answers. I never missed a pill, but birth control isn’t perfect. Once again, I felt trapped, like there was nothing I could do. No way to travel. And even less money than before.
My heart dropped when I learned I was having a daughter. I know all too well what it means to be a woman in Texas. To be sexually abused as a child by a relative for years, from the age of seven. To be turned away by the police because too many years had gone by before I had the courage to say what happened to me out loud. To be denied an abortion when my boyfriend and I found out I was pregnant and then have every door slammed in my face because I was carrying the baby Texas made me keep.
The depression that consumed me during the second pregnancy was unimaginable, nothing I’d felt before. I felt myself slipping away. Around this time, my boyfriend slipped away, too, the same way my father had before him. Disappeared.
During the birth of my second child, the pain was so overwhelming that I actually thought I was going to die. I remember thinking, Who is going to take care of my babies?
Today, my children are three and one. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mother. When I am with my kids and I watch them play, for a few fleeting moments I can forget all the stressors in my life. But then we go to the supermarket. As we walk past the toy aisle or the fresh produce stands, the stark reminder of how little I can give them pulls me back to reality. Once again I am reminded how much more—how much better—I want for them.
Financially, I am ruined. I cannot work because I cannot afford childcare. The medicine my mother needs takes up too much of my meager income. The waitlist for housing is too long, so the three of us have been sharing a room in my mom’s house. The room has no space for decorations; it barely fits a full-sized bed.
I was so young, with every direction in life still an open possibility. But because I got pregnant, Texas laws chose my way for me. And now, I am left to care for two children, with no support and no clear path towards a better future.
At night, the small limbs of my two children occupy every corner of our bed. As I watch them sleep, I wish for the chance to give them their own space. Sometimes I sleep on the floor because it’s the only way I can. I try not to be angry but it isn’t easy. In my community, my state, my country, I have long avoided speaking up, knowing my cries for justice would only be met with violence. My own childhood trained me to think and feel that way.
But I recently decided that silence is not a strategy for survival. My strength and resolve are growing. I think about the Bible verse “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I tell myself: You must be able to overcome this.
I will remain anonymous to protect my family. But now I want the people who did this—the politicians, the activists, all the people who say they care about Texas women and Texas families but who only act to make our lives impossible—I want them to know: YOU did this to me. To us.
I’ve filed a lawsuit against those who helped build these horrible laws—and then had the privilege to break them in an attempt to trap women like me who still need help. If I win, I will use the money to help raise my kids to the best of my ability.
***
My name is not Maria Puerto. But that is what you will call me.
My “real” name—the one you will never know—was never mine anyway. It belongs to a man who abandoned me before I was even born. And over the last four years, Texas’s abortion bans ripped every last shred of myself that I had remaining.
Today, I am many things. A daughter. A sister. A born and bred Texan. A sexual assault survivor. A single mother of two.
And I am a woman with a voice.
Please add yours with mine.
Learn more about my lawsuit here.
If you want to help support me and my family, you can donate here.
And if you want to help raise awareness about these laws, which help no one, please share my story.
She Faced Prison for Smoking Weed While Pregnant
  October 8, 2026 Salutations, Meteor readers, Last week, Denali National Park started weighing its husky puppies for Chunky Puppy Day. Six-month-old Mammoth was crowned the winner at a stunning 77 pounds. Animals are wonderful.  THE DENALI PUPPIES ENJOYING THE SUMMER BEFORE THE GREAT CHUNKENING. MAMMOTH IS SECOND FROM THE LEFT. (SCREENSHOT VIA INSTAGRAM) In today’s newsletter, a long-awaited update on Lauren Smith, almost three years after we first reported on how the South Carolina mom was facing 10 years in prison because of a positive THC test. Plus, three questions with author Gemma Hartley about her latest book, No One Loves an Angry Woman. (We do!) With love, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ON“I’m trying to rebuild”: In November 2023, The Meteor published an investigation into the case of Lauren Smith, a South Carolina mother of three who was staring down a ten-year prison sentence after she and her newborn tested positive for THC. Her youngest baby, Audrey, was taken away from Smith the day after she was born. Alone in that hospital room, “I didn’t feel like a mother,” she told writer Neda Toloui-Semnani, “or a person who just had a baby. I didn’t feel like a victim. I felt like a criminal.” Smith was later arrested and charged with felony child neglect for using marijuana while pregnant. (While cannabis use during pregnancy isn’t recommended, it’s common among young women, especially those, like Smith, who experience extreme morning sickness.) The charge also led to her losing custody of her second child, Aiden, for two years.  These cases are only becoming more common post-Dobbs, as more states embrace the concept of “fetal personhood.” In those states, “pregnant people have fewer rights than people who aren’t pregnant,” Trip Carpenter, a legal fellow with Pregnancy Justice, which supported Smith, explained in 2023. At the time our story was published, Smith was still awaiting her day in court. She had rejected a plea deal; “I don’t believe in pleading to something I didn’t do,” she said. But in 2024, after years of waiting, her case finally went to trial—and resulted in a hung jury. Then, this year, Smith learned that the state did not plan to retry the case. Her charges were expunged. “I felt elated, like one of the dark clouds that have been looming over me for almost a decade has finally subsided and moved on,” she says. Smith, now 34, shares an apartment with nine-year-old Aiden in Greenville, S.C. She works as a caregiver for older adults, and she’s going to school for medical billing and coding. Last week, she and Aiden traveled to New York, where Pregnancy Justice honored her courage and persistence at their annual gala. (Smith and her son also, fittingly, glimpsed the Statue of Liberty while riding the Staten Island ferry.) Still, the victory is “bittersweet,” she says. After having her life on hold for seven years, “I’m trying to rebuild and figure out who I am...It's a lot and it's a struggle right now.” She still doesn’t have custody of or even a visitation agreement for Audrey, who lives with her paternal grandmother; it’s been several months since Smith last saw her. “It's hard because I don't have a lot of control over the situation,” she says.  LAUREN SMITH RECEIVES AN AWARD FROM PREGNANCY JUSTICE'S DANA SUSSMAN LAST MONTH. (PHOTO BY YEKA GYADU FOR PREGNANCY JUSTICE) Even Smith’s relationship with Aiden has taken a hit from the turmoil of the last few years. Recently, after Smith took away Aiden’s Xbox privileges for a punishment, he told her, "That's why I wish Rebecca was my mom.” (Rebecca is a family friend who was his foster parent for those two years.) “He's nine, so he doesn't probably know how to really express his feelings,” Smith says. “It comes out in anger.” Karen Thompson, Pregnancy Justice’s legal director, says this kind of “community destruction and family interruption,” a typical kind of havoc that pregnancy criminalization wreaks, is “really one of the true takeaways from Lauren's situation.” And Thompson thinks that even relatively positive outcomes like Smith’s are becoming less possible. Post-Dobbs, “prosecutions are getting much more intense. There's more of them. The surveillance [of pregnant women] is increasing. And…there are not a lot of people like Lauren who are willing to fight.” Thompson says the system makes the process “so unbearable” that most people end up taking plea deals. “That's the flare that’s getting sent out: Behave, and be quiet.” That’s not advice Lauren Smith will be taking. “My own father at one point told me to just give up” on the case, she says. “But you just got to keep pushing through…You have to start with the truth and go from there.” —Nona Willis Aronowitz AND:
 MARGARET HAMILTON BESIDE A STACK OF PRINTED CODE USED FOR THE 1969 MOON LANDING. (NASA/WIKIMEDIA COMMONS)
 Three Questions About...Holy Rage COURTESY OF BEACON PRESS Did the women of the Bible—the ones so many of us are told to model our lives after—ever get angry? Did Mary, the mother of Jesus, ever mutter under her breath that he was an obnoxious little shit when he was going through his threenager phase? These are the burning questions two ex-evangelicals—that would be me and Gemma Hartley, author of No One Loves an Angry Woman: An Ex-Evangelical Coming of Rage Story—discuss when they’re alone on a Zoom. So one of the things we’re taught very early on is that we need to learn to be like the Sarahs and Marys and Ruths of the Bible—women who were sort of humbled by the world so that they could learn the importance of submission. But we see them as success stories because once they submitted, everything was great. Do you think those gals felt anger? Gemma Hartley: I can't imagine that they didn't. I can't imagine that they would not harbor a deep anger for the ways that they were denied full personhood. They aren't full people on the page, right? They're archetypes. They are showing us what “good” womanhood looks like, just like the Jezebels and the Vashtis are showing us what “bad” womanhood looks like. And so there's no way for us to see them in their full humanity. So I think that the anger might have come out sideways for these women. I think that in order to keep submission to one man, one faith system, anger has to get redirected somewhere else. And I don't know where that is, but I do believe it was there. Do you think there’s something hyper-specific about evangelicism that plants the seed of this kind of anger for women? I think that Christian patriarchy [of all kinds] tells women to suppress their anger and act in a way that is not in accordance with how we feel. Every time you don't allow yourself to express anger, it builds up. When I say that this [book] is a coming-of-rage story, it's that moment of inflection where you can't hide it anymore, where you can't press it down any further. All of it has to come up in order for you to reckon with it. I think Abrahamic religions in general do this to women because they put you in a very small box—It separates you from your body. It separates you from your sense of justice. And those things make it really difficult for you to become fully human in a way. Women are told that our sinful nature…needs to be shaved away. But really it’s just your sense of self, your sense of justice, your sense of something isn't right here that they're chipping away from you. I do think that there is a way for women to walk in faith and not accept that diminishment of their humanity. It's really difficult because you have to walk a path that is not well-worn in order to do that. Is there anyone that you wish we knew more about that could be a defiant woman archetype? Queen Vashti. 100 percent. And I kind of mythologize her in the book a little bit because, as someone who has gone through sexual assault, what we are given of her story is so difficult to grapple with. What we’re told of her story is that she’s vain and disobedient and had to be cast out. But when you look at what the disobedience is…The king [and Vashti are having separate feasts], there has been drinking and debauchery going on for days. Vashti is with the women and is called to come before the king and all of the men, very likely without clothing. She refuses to appear and is then put to death. The full story of her humanity is completely written over by men that just say, "Well, she was disobedient to the king. We need to make an example of her." I think she would have a story that would be so familiar to so many of us.  FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
Roofies and a “King in Albany”
  October 6, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, I recently learned that Netflix produced and is going to air a new version of the Stanford Prison Experiment, this time putting participants in an actual prison. We have quite literally gone too far as a TV-watching society. In today’s newsletter, we answer some lingering questions about the legal loophole that protected the Cornell 7 from criminal rape charges. Plus, a quick romp through the news. With love, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONThe inner workings of injustice: Last week we reported on New York State’s voluntary intoxication exclusion loophole—a gap in the state’s penal code that leaves sexual violence victims who willingly got drunk unprotected by the law. The exclusion has been at the center of trying to understand why the Cornell case didn’t go anywhere when the incident was first reported in 2024. Many readers and commenters had one question: How, in the year 2026, can the law still contain such an egregious flaw? I myself will admit that as I’ve been conducting interviews, the most frequently said phrase in every conversation (by both me and my sources) is, “It doesn’t make any sense.” We realized it was time for an FAQ. So here you go—a product of our own research and many hours on the phone with Elizabeth da Trinidade-Asher, a lawyer and co-chair of Justice Without Exclusion Coalition, who has been working to close New York’s loophole for the last eight years. Please note that what you’re about to read includes descriptions of sexual assault. What do you mean loophole?“There is a vast difference between what is morally reprehensible and what is criminally liable as rape,” Asher says, “and that is defined by the criminal code no matter how deficient it is.” This applies to all crimes—there must be a definition of the crime in the penal code for it to be prosecutable. New York State’s penal code establishes legal differences between various sex crimes and also defines how “lack of consent” or an inability to give consent can be established. Intoxication loopholes in sexual assault laws are widespread across the country, although their details vary from state to state. Some states, like Minnesota and Texas, have closed the loopholes completely. You can review your home state’s approach to consent and incapacitation here. So then how did we end up with this in New York? Speak plainly!When it comes to bringing a charge of rape, there are very specific parameters. New York’s penal code establishes that lack of consent does exist when “the victim clearly expressed that he or she did not consent to engage in such acts” in a way that a reasonable person would have understood.  PROTESTORS ON THE CAMPUS OF CORNELL YESTERDAY. (VIA GETTY IMAGES) But what about situations in which a victim is incapable of giving or refusing consent—for instance, while intoxicated? Asher explains that for an adult with their mental faculties intact to be considered incapable of consent, one of three conditions must be met: “You must be physically helpless, meaning comatose for the entire time—no physical or verbal response at any point; mentally incapacitated; or roofied.” That last condition, being roofied, is the key to understanding how this infuriating loophole came to exist in New York. Asher explains that in the ‘90s there was a surge in “roofying”: slipping Rohypnol, also known as the “date rape drug,” into someone’s drink. In trying to write legislation to address these new crimes, New York lawmakers “committed a rookie mistake.” What they wanted to do was write into law that a person was incapacitated and incapable of consent if they had been unknowingly given Rohypnol. But to single out Rohypnol would have left out any other drugs used to facilitate rape, like GHB, ketamine, or tranquilizers. So legislators wrote the code broadly to include any drug or intoxicant consumed without knowledge. And that was the error. “Because they only specified involuntary intoxication as a way to define your mental incapacitation,” explains Asher, “they left all these other kinds of cases out of the code.” Is Cornell the first known time this loophole has hindered a rape case?Unfortunately, no. In a 2023 case, two NYPD officers sexually abused a woman whom they had met at a bar in the Bronx. She became intoxicated of her own free will; the officers are seen on camera holding her up by the arms exiting the bar, and a second video shows them entering one of the officers’ apartment buildings, where they remained until 7:30 in the morning. This year, after reaching a plea deal, the officers were convicted of criminal sexual abuse—which is defined as misdemeanor “unwanted sexual touching.” Not rape. They both got probation, with only one of them having to go on the sex offender registry. Because that Jane Doe had been drinking voluntarily and was not completely knocked out, she was legally not considered incapacitated or incapable of consent. In the case of the Jane Doe who attended Cornell, the loophole applies because Doe was intoxicated before entering the frat house and allegedly consented to sex, though heavily under the influence of alcohol and ketamine—something at least one of her assailants was aware of. If the loophole had been closed, Doe would have been considered incapable of consenting. Full stop. “The problem with New York law,” Asher says, “is that it differentiates how it is that you came to be completely inebriated. Most states that have ended the loophole basically say…if you couldn’t pass a DUI test, then for sure you can’t consent. So anything that happened to you is rape. It’s such an easy fix.” Um, this is disgusting! Why hasn’t anyone done anything about this?Advocates and legislators have been trying to close this loophole for nearly a decade, via a bill that has garnered near-unanimous support in the state senate. But the bill has never been brought to the floor of the legislature for a vote, although throughout that time one man has had the power to do so: Speaker Carl Heastie, the Democrat from the Bronx who sets the legislative calendar. “The speaker controls all the levers by which a bill becomes a law, which is a huge democratic problem,” Asher explains. “In New York we think everything is great because the Democrats control the Senate, Assembly, and governor’s office. But you know what? There’s a king in Albany, and nobody’s calling him out.”  HOCHUL AND HEASTIE AT AN EVENT IN 2024. (VIA GETTY IMAGES) So now what?On the heels of the Cornell lawsuit, Heastie has agreed to convene a working group to discuss solutions for closing the loophole now that there is an active case—something he’s said he needed in the past in order to get this bill moving, according to Asher. However, Heastie has been in power for at least two other such cases (the 2023 case involving the NYPD officers, and another 2017 case), although Cornell is the most high-profile one so far; Governor Kathy Hochul has appointed New York Attorney General Letitia James as a special prosecutor to investigate Jane Doe’s claims. Still, if the law remains unchanged, James would have limited options for prosecution. Hochul could also, at any point while the investigation is underway, call for a special session of the New York State Assembly to address this issue before the normally scheduled session begins in 2027. But Heastie still needs to schedule a vote. A lot of people want to know: Why hasn’t he brought the bill looking to close the loophole to a vote? In the meantime, another question only Heastie can answer: How many women need to be revictimized by the system before Albany decides to do something about it? Call his office and ask. AND:
 ONE MORE THING: OUR CLIMATE HEROES DR. AYANA ELIZABETH JOHNSON TOES THE LINE BETWEEN "OPTIMIST" AND "WORRIED SCIENTIST" AT A CLIMATE WEEK DINNER HOSTED BY THE METEOR AND LA MER. (PHOTO BY KRISTEN BLUSH) Last month, dozens of women climate activists, scientists, journalists, and environmental entrepreneurs convened in New York City for a Climate Week dinner at abcV, co-hosted by The Meteor and La Mer. “Sustainability is a mediocre goal,” Ashlan Cousteau, a conservationist and one of La Mer’s Blue Heart ambassadors, told the crowd. “We want a better world.” Marine biologist Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, another ambassador and a member of The Meteor collective, urged the guests to keep thinking about climate issues as the midterm elections approach. “A number that I want you to remember is 11.2 million,” she said. “That is the number of people who have [the] environment as their number one voting issue, who are already registered to vote, and did not vote in America’s 2024 election.” She encouraged all of us to channel the “tenacity and creativity” of the climate activists she’d seen that week, including the people at dinner. When “you get 40 women in a room,” she said, “so much is possible.”  FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
A Legal Loophole That Saved the Cornell 7...the First Time
  September 24, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, It’s only Tuesday, and this has already been a heavy week, especially as we learn more about the lawsuit being brought against Cornell University and the seven fraternity members accused of disgusting crimes. In today’s newsletter, we're uncovering the little-known legal apparatus that allows cases like these to escape investigation for so long. Plus, the Trump administration adds insult to injury, and a young icon is born. We recognize that this may be a difficult read for some, so if today’s newsletter is not for you, please know that we are with you in spirit, in grief, and in rage. Help is available if you need it. With extra love, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONVoluntary intoxication exclusion: By now, the whole world has learned that earlier this month, a former Cornell University student, known only as Jane Doe, filed a civil lawsuit against the university and seven fraternity members, alleging that the men gang-raped her in 2024 and that the school failed to hold them accountable. (Their fraternity, Chi Phi, was banned from campus, but no criminal charges were brought against the accused.) On Sunday night, Tompkins County District Attorney Matthew Van Houten said his office would revisit the case to see whether criminal charges were appropriate, adding that local police initially hadn't conducted a thorough investigation and instead relied on information gathered by campus police—who never fully engaged local law enforcement. When the news broke that Van Houten’s office was re-opening an investigation, my phone buzzed off the table. For the last few months I have been investigating New York State’s voluntary intoxication exclusion loophole, a failure of the current penal code that excludes someone who was willingly intoxicated from being able to pursue rape charges against their assailant. Jane Doe was allegedly drunk of her own volition the night of her attack so, to put it bluntly: The New York State Penal Code says—for now—a crime did not take place at Cornell University that night. In other words, how someone became intoxicated is the legal difference between a morally reprehensible act and a crime. If someone voluntarily downs enough cocktails, advocate Will Rivera explained to The Meteor last year, their assault “does not technically constitute a crime.” (This changes if a victim presents with bruises or other physical evidence of battery.)  THE CORNELL CAMPUS IN ITHACA, NEW YORK (VIA GETTY IMAGES) In fact, Van Houten raised this exact distinction when he addressed why criminal charges were never brought in the Cornell case: “[Jane Doe] never says [in her original interview] that she was drugged without her knowledge,” he said. “She admits to taking drugs and alcohol voluntarily and with knowledge.” Doe’s lawyer says that campus police never followed up after the initial statement and did not thoroughly investigate the complaint despite evidence provided, and now we know one likely reason why. “There’s an environment where the police are like, Oh, this is just a waste of our time,” explains Elizabeth da Trinidade-Asher, a lawyer and co-chair of Justice Without Exclusion Coalition. “Because these cases are messy, prosecutors don’t take them. It's technically not a crime in the books.” Think all this sounds unjust? It is, and for the last eight years, advocates in New York State have been working on a bill that would close this loophole. “The legislature has to…say this is a crime, period, end of sentence,” says Trinidade-Asher, who has been lobbying for this bill for the last five years. “We recognize in a court of law that if you walk into a car dealership, visibly intoxicated, and you sign for a car, that signature is not valid,” adds Minister Peace, co-chair of Community for a Cause. Yet “we stop short in our law in New York when it comes to sexual assault if you got yourself intoxicated voluntarily.” The bill has passed the state senate five times and, this spring, obtained a record number of bipartisan co-sponsors, but Speaker of the New York State Assembly Carl Heastie, a Democrat, has not brought it to a vote. And the dismissive environment Trinidade-Asher describes is not limited to the police departments, nor to Cornell—it reaches all the way to the corridors of Albany, where this bill has been referred to as the “ruining-drunk-sex bill” by assembly members, Trinidade-Asher and Peace say.  SUMMER WILLIS, WHO HELPED CLOSE THE INTOXICATION LOOPHOLE IN HER HOME STATE OF TEXAS, JOINED ADVOCATES IN NEW YORK LAST YEAR TO BRING ATTENTION TO THE BILL. SHE HAS CONTINUED HER EFFORTS THIS YEAR. (VIA GETTY IMAGES) In May of this year, she and Peace were in Albany to lobby for the bill when Peace heard Assemblymember Patrick Burke of Buffalo describe the bill with that language. “He said it in a very jovial manner,” says Peace. “He was just like, ‘Oh, as me and my colleagues call this, the ‘ruining-drunk-sex bill.’ That took me aback.” Reached for comment, Burke tells The Meteor that he is a supporter of the bill, and plans to vote “yes” if it’s brought to the floor. He denies referring to it in a disrespectful manner, and a representative from his office clarified in a statement that Burke was using a colloquial term for the bill. “‘Drunk sex bill’ is something that was sort of a general reference to it,” Burke said on a call. “This is not something people in Albany are being callous about.” Callous? Maybe not. Infuriatingly slow? Let’s review: This bill has been in the works for nearly a decade. It has the support of survivors, legislators, and advocacy groups. Last year, 92 assembly members signed on as co-sponsors to bring the bill to a floor vote. Yet it has never been brought to a vote and it is still reportedly being called a “drunk sex bill.” And meanwhile, Jane Doe is left with limited legal recourse. New York state senator Nathalia Fernandez, one of the co-sponsors of the bill, released a statement yesterday saying that voluntary intoxication exclusion must be a priority for the next legislative session. She also announced a rally for Thursday at the Bronx County Courthouse to shed light on this loophole. So if you’re angry, hold your anger; tend to it like a houseplant. Bring it with you on Thursday if you’re local, and carry it into 2027 when this bill will have another opportunity to be brought to the floor. It could, after all, have given Jane Doe a chance to pursue justice. And it would have acknowledged: Rape is not “drunk sex.” It’s rape. The Meteor will continue to monitor the progress of this bill and offer further reporting on what's been holding it up all of these years. Stay with us. AND:
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“This is what I have to say”
  September 24, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, The Fat Bear Week bracket is out, and my money is riding on Bear 910, the daughter of former champion Beadnose. 910 is in a round-two head-to-head against her sister, 909, which probably makes things really awkward in the den.  I LOVE HER. (PHOTO COURTESY OF C. LOBURG) In today’s newsletter, Nona Willis Aronowitz has three questions for Jamia Wilson, the editor of Gloria Steinem’s posthumous memoir. Plus, a sneak peek at tomorrow’s season finale of UNDISTRACTED. But first, a little bit of news. 🐻, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ON
 Three Questions About….Editing Gloria SteinemEditor Jamia Wilson explains what it was like to shepherd the feminist icon’s final book. BY NONA WILLIS ARONOWITZ  IMAGES COURTESY OF JAMIA WILSON AND RANDOM HOUSE When Gloria Steinem’s longtime editor, Kate Medina, retired last year, she passed on her memoir project to Jamia Wilson, a VP and executive editor at Random House. Wilson was a close friend and collaborator of Steinem’s who was nearly 50 years her junior. The resulting memoir, An Unexpected Life, turned out to be the final piece of writing Steinem shared with the world, and it hits bookshelves this week. The Meteor talked to Wilson—one of our founding members—about what it was like to edit her mentor (though “Gloria always hated it when I called her that”) and her favorite passages of the book. When was the last time you met with Gloria, and do you think that she had a sense that this book was her last word? It was at a talking circle in July at her home. I’d been to many of her talking circles, and this one was with librarians and people who were invested in conversations about books and freedom of expression. And with Gloria being such a passionate writer and reader, it really was a profound experience for me to witness her in conversation with people who are the connectors of books and their readers. I left that talking circle with a deep awe of how she still had that ability to make every single person feel seen and loved and supported. She was still embodying the French idea of “refaire le monde,” like: “Let’s remake the world with a dinner party.” [But I didn’t get a sense that we were in her final days.] I got there a little early like I always tried to do, and we talked about how I was going to the beach later that summer. She said, "Oh, tell me about it when you get back, but you should also put Positano on your list—it's the most beautiful." So I felt the conversation had ellipses on it at the end.  STEINEM AND WILSON AT A 2015 DISCUSSION FOR STEINEM'S FIRST MEMOIR, "MY LIFE ON THE ROAD" (VIA GETTY IMAGES) You’d known Gloria for more than 20 years, starting when you were a youth organizer for the March for Women's Lives in 2004—but this was your first time having an editor-writer relationship with her. What was that like, and what was her process like as a writer? Working on the project became an intergenerational conversation with us and her whole team; in true Gloria fashion, the process was a circle. She also told me, "Jamia, everyone needs to be edited, so I need you to really make sure you tell me every critique that comes to mind." She was so exacting and diligent in that way. Gloria identified as a writer, and the only thing that she said she regretted in this life was not writing more. She was very analog about it: She wrote on yellow legal pads and these iconic little notebooks that she always would write her ideas on. And sometimes she would send pictures of those pages—or sometimes I would even ask for them, because I wanted to get a sense of, Oh, what did you cross out? I received the manuscript right on time and at about 80,000 words [which is not very long]. I was like, "Hey, you've had a really long life. If you really wanted to go off and say more, you could.” And she said, "No, this is what I have to say." It was always one of her feminist superpowers to be clear, concise, compelling. What were your favorite parts of the book to work on? The first section of the book is called “Bad Things I'm Glad Happened to Me,” which was a core part of her thesis—in particular, two portions of that chapter called “We learn from difference, not sameness,” and “If it's all white, it isn't feminism.” There's a passage in that section that reads: "Black women have been seen as leading one another, but rarely as the leaders of white women and least of all as the leaders of white men. The truth is that they have been universal leaders of us all.” I was very moved to see her modeling that kind of evolution. That section was very important to me not only as an editor, but also as a Black feminist raised by a Black feminist scholar mom.  ONE MORE THING...Tomorrow’s season finale of UNDISTRACTED will feature an encouraging conversation with Vice President Kamala Harris and Brittany Packnett Cunningham. They touch on our political future, a persuasive theory about the current backlash against Black cultural institutions, and what 2028 may hold—and they settle the debate on which HU is the HU (iykyk). You can enjoy the full episode as soon as it drops on YouTube or wherever you get your podcasts.  FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
Is the Menopause Enlightenment here?
  September 22, 2026 Greetings, Meteor readers, Since last week, I have been in deep debate with a friend about which flavor profile is better: apples or pumpkins. We have been friends for 16 years, and I think this will be the thing that tears us apart forever.  ME TO MY FRIENDS ON A RANDOM THURSDAY In today’s newsletter, we dig into a crucial health gap that’s been harming older women. Plus, a Mississippi grand jury comes up short on the Nolan Wells case, and the school news story everyone is talking about right now. Apple hive, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONA Menopause Enlightenment? Over the last few years, menopause has experienced a glow-up. It’s gone from a topic women whispered about, and doctors overlooked, to an experience screamed loudly and proudly by the likes of Halle Berry. With its overabundance of new creams, apps, beauty products, supplements, and Samantha Jones references, the rise of Big Menopause can sometimes seem like just another wellness marketing phenomenon. But it has also led to some long-overdue justice for older women, who have for generations been failed by the medical establishment. We’re inching closer to facing those failures. The attention around menopause has led to some necessary corrections to how this period of a woman’s physical life is studied, funded, and treated. You’ve probably heard the story: Back in 2002, the Women’s Health Initiative, a hormone therapy trial, was halted after researchers found that breast cancer rates among women in the trial had gone over the safety threshold. The conclusion drawn was that the risks of estrogen use outweighed the benefits; these results were later found to be profoundly overstated, but in the meantime, women were denied what we now understand to be vital care. For years, spooked by misinterpretations of the 2002 study, the FDA had placed a black box warning on all estrogen products, discouraging doctors from prescribing it to patients. As a result, many women suffered. Women like Roselin Shankland, a 78-year-old woman who died in 2023 after a urinary tract infection spread to her bloodstream. “She spent her life taking care of people,” Shankland’s daughter told USA Today, which just published an extensive investigation of menopause-related medical neglect. “And in the end, no one took care of her. My mother didn’t need to die.” Specifically, she could have been saved by a highly effective preventive treatment: A recent peer-reviewed study of almost 2 million women in Urology Journal found that vaginal estrogen cream, which strengthens vaginal tissue and makes it less prone to infection, reduces the chance of UTI hospitalization in menopausal women by half. And yet most women are never offered the option—including Shankland. “This one very simple medicine could have saved my mother,” Shankland’s daughter said. In fact, according to USA Today’s analysis of the data, vaginal estrogen could have saved the lives of 22,158 post-menopausal women with recurring UTIs between 2017 and 2025. Yet even after the FDA’s black box warnings were removed a year ago, this treatment is still not widely prescribed for UTIs. So where does that leave all of us who are approaching or currently in menopause, or with loved ones who are? One doctor tells USA Today, “Every woman in menopause needs vaginal estrogen.” Periodt! (Or lack of period, I guess.) It’s not a universal rule, of course—some groups, like people who have a history of blood clots or certain cancers, are still not advised to take estrogen—but the point is this: Life-threatening, treatable illness is not the price anyone born with a uterus should have to pay for aging. AND:
 HASHIMI, LEFT, ALONG WITH GOLD MEDALIST GUO LI C OF CHINA AND BRONZE MEDALIST LEUNG WING YEE OF HONG KONG AT THE PODIUM AFTER THE WOMEN'S ROAD RACE EVENT AT THE 2026 ASIAN GAMES (VIA GETTY IMAGES)
 EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT...…journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones’s reflective piece about school choice and segregation in The New York Times Magazine this weekend. If you haven’t read it already: Hannah-Jones writes beautifully about what happened when her daughter Najya realized that she’d intentionally been sent to an under-resourced school as part of her parents’ wider mission to improve a racist school system. In short, Najya had some questions. The story itself is incredibly well-written, and the reactions have been plentiful, with some of the brightest women we know discussing what it takes to both live your values and give your child what they need. Many are echoing a sentiment so many parents seem to share: How exactly do I do what’s best for my child? How do we even define “best” in a system so unjust? Back in 2016, when Hannah-Jones first wrote about her decision, she and The Meteor’s Rebecca Carroll sat down for a conversation about it and their shared worries over making the best decision for their children, which you can watch here. If you’re a parent navigating the school system for your child, we’d love to know what you thought of the piece, and how you’re making your own decisions about what’s best. Reply to this email and let us know.  FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
A Lightning Round on the Word "No"
Anna Holmes' new book celebrates putting your foot down
By Nona Willis Aronowitz
Do you have trouble saying “no”? Writer and Jezebel founder Anna Holmes gets it—but she’s not letting you off the hook. The Power of No: A Celebration is her new book, or “subtle manifesto” as she calls it, that makes the case for shaking your head and setting boundaries, even in a world that discourages it. Set up as a series of vignettes and quotes, The Power of No is so persuasive that, mid-reading, I finally sent a firm rejection to a dating-app match who had been annoying me for days. The relief was startling.
Here are some nuggets from Holmes about that potent little word.
On the OG masters of “no”:
Kids really know how to say “no.” In some cases, they need to be encouraged not to say it because you can't just say “no” to everything and you have to do things you don't want to do. But I envy the freedom that young kids have to say “nope,” before they start to question the consequences at around nine or ten years old. They know the word before they even start talking; babies know how to push things away and reject them.
On why knowing yourself helps you say “no”:
We are socialized as women to be accommodating and not say “no,” and because of that, we don't always know how to assert what it is we do want. The more I understand about what I want, the easier it is for me to know how to say “no.” I hope the book inspires people to take a beat and say, "Before I say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to something, I have to ask myself what I really want as opposed to trying to fill up dead air or assuage my anxiety about how to respond.”
On Gen Z, the “no” generation:
Listen, if I had had access in my twenties to a bunch of women talking on TikTok about the red flags to look out for with guys, or how they were not going to have sex for a year, it might have felt really revolutionary. Perhaps the younger generation is too cautious, but maybe the flip side is that they're more empowered to say “no.” Often when I see younger people on social media talking about things like relationships and sex and how they navigate the workplace, I'm like, “I fucking wish I knew that when I was 24.”
Favorite form of “no”:
Maya Angelou’s “We’re not going to have that opportunity today.” I like it because it’s polite, it’s firm, it can’t be argued with and she uses “we,” which implicates the question-asker and is very clever.
Bravest personal “no”:
My “no” to bad treatment from a boss from many years ago who was an underminer and a gaslighter.
Ghosting: Yes or no?
I am all for ghosting if it is directed towards someone who 1) won’t take “no” for an answer or won’t hear your “no” or 2) towards someone to whom saying “no” might create emotional and physical danger for the recipient. Oh also, I am for ghosting if the person doing the asking has treated you badly.
