The other day, my friend asked me, “If you could sit down with any historical figure (past or present) who would it be?”

To their surprise, I said Phyllis Schlafly.

As a feminist myself, I am baffled to see another woman promote beliefs that hinder the progress of her own gender. In my time here at Wesleyan so far, I have learned the importance and value of listening to perspectives that aren’t your own when it comes to social and political issues. Not only does it help you strengthen your own counterargument, but it can make you a more open-minded person. If I were to sit down with Phyllis Schlafly, I would interrogate her principles to get to the “why” of her logic—why did she feel that opportunities represented by the feminist movement were a threat to women’s status? 

I want to understand what I see as an underlying contradiction in Schlafly’s belief system. She lived her life in a way that aligned with the goals of feminists: she had a career outside the home, she was well-educated, and she wielded both intellectual and practical power. If I were to define what it means to be a feminist, I would say it is an individual who stands up for rights that have been historically denied to women. Given Schlafly’s accomplishments, I wonder if she was a feminist unknowingly. 

When teaching about the feminist movement, public school curriculums tend to focus on figures like Gloria Steinem or Susan B. Anthony. Even in the classes I’ve taken so far at Wesleyan, professors tend to include female authors in the syllabus who fit the mold of “feminist crusader” and write about their intentions to dismantle the patriarchy.  

Even though it’s important to learn and read about the accomplishments of these women, I feel that it is just as important to be educated about the people who historically obstructed the principal goals of the feminist movement. Schlafly’s success is evidenced by the failure of the Equal Rights Amendment to be ratified several times throughout the 1970s. In our hypothetical conversation, I would ask her how she convinced other women to not vote for the ratification of this amendment, which seemed to so obviously benefit women. 

Ultimately though, I am intrigued most of all by Schlafly’s tactics of persuasion. By understanding how Schlafly crafted her arguments and amassed a following, I could use similar tactics to my advantage as an agent of social change, furthering the feminist agenda. 

As a psychology major, I know the value of understanding what in someone’s social and familial environment compels them to be attracted to a certain ideology, which would make my conversation with Schlafly even more fascinating. Being ignorant to individuals who uphold opinions that differ from your own is not a way to find common ground, and villainizing these people builds barriers to achieving mutual understanding and solution-building. By sitting down with Phyllis Schlafly, I would be engaging in an act of empathy that truly tries to understand what led her to the belief she promotes. What about her life has made her believe that just because one door is opening for women in America, the door behind them closes? 

Next time someone asks you if you could sit down with any historical figure (past or present), I urge you to think beyond the figures that you align yourself with and see as your role models. Conversations tend to be more interesting when not everyone at the table agrees with each other. Plus, not only will you have an intriguing conversation, but you’ll likely come out with a better grasp on how to build a better argument yourself, learning how to humanize people who initially seem bigoted. 

Zara Skolnik can be reached at zskolnik@wesleyan.edu.