To the Women Who Came Before Us

"Well-behaved women seldom make history." – Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

To the Women Who Came Before Us

Every year on the 8th of March, the world comes together for International Women's Day, a global movement that's been recognising the social, cultural, and political achievements of women for over a century. It's a moment to reflect on how far we've come, and recommit to how far we still need to go.

Celebrating women isn't something that should be saved for one day a year. But today is a chance to slow down and really sit with the women who changed the world. This International Women's Day, we're honouring a handful of trailblazers who refused to shrink, who lived boldly, and who reminded the world that women have always been a force of nature.

1. Maya Angelou — Courage Begins With Speaking

Poet, activist, storyteller. Maya Angelou moved through the world with a voice that carried truth like it was something tender and worth protecting.

Her writing explored identity, resilience, and dignity with a depth that made people feel less alone in their own lives. She had survived things that would have silenced others, and instead she turned that survival into literature that has outlasted every attempt to diminish her.

She taught us that bearing witness to your own experience, honestly, fully, without apology, is one of the most radical things a person can do. That courage very often begins with speaking.

2. Rosalind Franklin — The Scientist Whose Work Changed Everything

Rosalind Franklin's X-ray crystallography work was essential to one of the greatest scientific discoveries of the 20th century: the double-helix structure of DNA. Her data was used without her knowledge. Her name was left out. History has since corrected the record, but it took too long.

Today she stands where she always should have, as a towering, brilliant, meticulous scientist who changed the world and deserved every bit of credit for it.

Her story is a reminder of how often women's contributions have been quietly borrowed, overlooked, or erased, and why it matters so deeply that we say their names, tell their stories, and refuse to let the record go uncorrected.

3. Oodgeroo Noonuccal — Storytelling as Truth and Healing

Oodgeroo Noonuccal was a proud Noonuccal woman, a poet, and one of Australia's most important voices for Aboriginal rights and cultural recognition, at a time when that recognition was something her country actively withheld.

She was the first Aboriginal Australian to publish a book of poetry. Her words were not decorative. They were a demand for justice, for land, for the right to be seen and heard and counted. And yet they carried within them something that went beyond anger: a deep connection to country, to story, to the kind of knowledge that lives in the body and the earth.

She reminds us that storytelling can hold both truth and healing at once, and that language, in the right hands, is never just words.

4. Wangari Maathai — Caring for the Earth is a Feminist Act

Wangari Maathai understood something that the world is still catching up to: that the health of the earth and the freedom of women are not separate causes. They are the same cause.

In 1977, she founded the Green Belt Movement in Kenya, mobilising communities, mostly women, to plant trees, restore degraded land, and reclaim their futures. By the time she received the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004, over 47 million trees had taken root.

She was arrested, dismissed, and called a troublemaker. She kept planting. There is something quietly ferocious about a woman who responds to oppression by pressing her hands into the soil and choosing to grow something new.

5. Whina Cooper — The Land is Who We Are

Whina Cooper was born in 1895 in the Hokianga region of Aotearoa New Zealand, and she spent more than a century fighting for the same thing: the right of Māori people to keep their connection to their land.

She founded the Māori Women's Welfare League in 1951, advocating for housing, health, and education at a time when Māori communities were being pushed to the margins of their own country. Then, at the age of 79, she led the historic 1975 Land March, walking over 1,000 kilometres from Te Hapua to Wellington at the head of a growing column of protesters to deliver a petition to parliament against Māori land alienation.

She was known as the Mother of the Nation, and she earned that name not through ceremony but through decades of showing up, again and again, for her people and their whenua. She reminds us that our connection to the earth is not just environmental. It is identity. It is belonging. It is everything.

6. Frida Kahlo — Self-Expression as Liberation

Frida Kahlo did not paint to be understood. She painted to be honest, and the world, eventually, caught up with her.

Through deeply personal self-portraits, she explored identity, disability, and womanhood with a directness that felt almost confrontational in its refusal to soften. She wore her pain, her culture, and her body as something to be celebrated rather than hidden. Her style was her statement. Her art was her life, made visible.

In a world that asked her to be smaller, she made herself larger, in colour, in texture, in truth. She reminds us that self-expression is not vanity. It is a form of liberation.

7. Jane Goodall — Empathy as a Revolutionary Tool

In 1960, Jane Goodall arrived at Gombe Stream in Tanzania with little more than a notebook and an extraordinary capacity for patience. What she found there, and what she spent the next six decades sharing with the world, changed how we understand ourselves and every living thing we share this planet with.

She showed us that chimpanzees have personalities, emotions, and social bonds. In doing so, she quietly dismantled the boundary we had drawn between human and animal, and asked us to consider our responsibilities more carefully.

Her tools were not loud ones: observation, stillness, empathy, time. But they turned out to be among the most powerful available. She shows us that how we pay attention to the world shapes what we are able to see in it.

8. Faith Bandler — Warmth as a Weapon

Faith Bandler was the daughter of a South Sea Islander man who had been kidnapped from his home island and brought to Australia as forced labour. She grew up knowing exactly what injustice looked like, and she spent her life quietly, persistently, gracefully dismantling it.

As a key architect of the 1967 Australian referendum campaign, she helped achieve a yes vote of over 90%, one of the highest in Australian history, which finally recognised Indigenous Australians in the national census. She did it not with fury, but with an unwavering belief in people's capacity to choose what is right.

In a movement that had every reason to be bitter, she chose warmth. That warmth, it turned out, was her greatest weapon and her most enduring legacy.

These women are separated by oceans, centuries, and circumstance. But they all share something: a refusal to be small. A belief that their work, their voice, and their presence mattered, even when the world tried to tell them otherwise. And it did try. Again and again.

What moves us most is that they showed up anyway. Not because it was easy, but because they knew it was necessary. They remind us that courage isn't the absence of fear, it's deciding that something matters more than it.

There are countless women whose names history didn't record, whose contributions were buried, overlooked, or stolen. We honour them too. Today and every day.

Here's to the women who came before us, and the ones just getting started.

Happy International Women's Day.