Nate Gowdy for Mother Jones

A name that is playing a major role in Chicago this week belongs to a woman who died 19 years ago.

Shirley Chisholm, the first black woman to run for a major party’s presidential nomination and the first woman to run as a Democrat, is on everyone’s lips among delegates and speakers at the Democratic National Convention. Her 1972 candidacy represents the idea that a woman belongs in the White House. That idea is on the ballot this year – in more ways than one.

“Anyone who doesn’t have a seat at the table is on the menu,” said Shannon Watts, founder of the anti-gun violence group Moms Demand Action, at a conference to discuss Chisholm’s legacy. “Women are on the menu.”

It’s a cliché, but it sounds eerie given the choice the country faces: One party hopes to elect the first woman president. The other party believes women should step away from public life to have and raise children. The hope of a first female president is tempered by the knowledge that defeat would be a setback not just for women in politics, but for women everywhere.

“I know firsthand what is at stake for women because I represent the state of Florida, and we have seen essentially the state’s version of what Project 2025 will be if, God forbid, Donald Trump ever returns to the White House,” said Democratic Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz. “Extreme MAGA Republicans, led by Ron DeSantis in our state, have passed a near-total ban on abortion.”

In a second Trump term, the federal government would significantly restrict access to abortion, limiting women’s ambitions and endangering their health. The administration could roll back the approval of abortion drugs, restrict access to contraception, and enact the Comstock Act to eliminate access to abortion nationwide.

By choosing Ohio Senator JD Vance as his running mate, Trump’s campaign aligned itself with far-right factions that explicitly seek to redefine the role of women in society. Vance has denigrated “childless cat ladies” for having no interest in the country’s future, and Harris was part of that group. He agreed that it is the job of postmenopausal women to help raise their grandchildren.

“If your worldview tells you that it is bad for women to become mothers, but liberating for them to work 90 hours a week in a cubicle in the New York Times or Goldman Sachs, you were duped,” Vance tweeted two days after the Supreme Court Roe v. Wade.

When Harris became the Democratic nominee, she immediately and inadvertently promoted an opposite notion: that a woman beyond childbearing age belongs in the White House. But the fact that Harris is a woman is almost beside the point. Unlike in 2016, when Hillary Clinton emphasized the historic nature of her candidacy and spoke of breaking the last glass ceiling in politics, Harris does not dwell on the historic aspect of her campaign.

“The outcome of this election feels so existential,” Wasserman Schultz said. “As exciting as it is – and I’m really incredibly excited about the opportunity to finally elect a woman president – her gender is almost like a bonus.”

On Tuesday, delegates and activists crowded into a huge conference room as music blared, waiting for a morning women’s meeting to begin. As I spoke to some, a trend emerged: They had entered politics two years ago after roe For them, this election was not about symbolic amounts, but about something real.

In the days following the decision, Cathy Kott of Georgia turned to her daughter, now in her 30s, and said, “I can’t believe I didn’t raise a more active woman.” Her daughter responded, “What about you?” A few days later, with her daughter’s words still ringing in her ears, Kott received a text message inviting her to run for a seat in the Georgia House of Representatives. She signed up.

“When abortion was banned in Missouri, it was an arson attack,” says Marsha Snodgrass, a delegate from the state. She became politically active for the first time, collected signatures for a ballot initiative to restore abortion rights and agreed to come to Chicago as a delegate two weeks ago.

At a panel discussion on Chisholm’s legacy on Monday, moderator Juanita Tolliver, a political analyst for MSNBC, listed the two conditions Chisolm believed were necessary for a woman to become president. The first is that men have time to get used to the idea. The second is that women and young people come together across race and class.

It will take until 2044, Chisholm predicted.

In Chicago, Democrats hope she was wrong for 20 years. “I think our time as women, as women of color, has come,” says Alexis Lewis, 70, a black delegate from California who remembers Chisholm’s campaign. “Women can be more than just wives and mothers.”

This debate is reminiscent of 1972. But in 2024 it is still relevant.