A Museum for Women Shouldn’t Fear Defining Biological Identity
A museum for women shouldn t be – Last month, the eagerly anticipated American Women’s History Museum hit a major roadblock—not due to lack of interest, but because lawmakers who publicly advocate for women’s progress refused to endorse a critical piece of legislation. The proposed bill aimed to ensure the museum recognized and celebrated biological women, sparking intense discourse and ultimately leading to its downfall by a narrow 204-216 vote. While the arguments against the bill are familiar, the situation reveals a troubling twist: the opportunity to acknowledge women’s unique experiences was dismissed, reinforcing the exclusion of biological women from the narrative.
The Battle Over Biological Identity
The Smithsonian’s American Women’s History Museum was established by Congress in 2020 and has spent six years shaping its vision. Its mission is to showcase the achievements of female pioneers across fields like science, art, and business, highlighting their resilience in the face of societal barriers. Yet, a recent attempt to codify this mission faced fierce opposition. Critics labeled the language of the bill—a simple requirement to define “biological women”—as a “poison pill,” arguing it unnecessarily complicates the museum’s purpose. Despite this, the bill’s defeat underscores a deeper reluctance to embrace the biological dimension of womanhood.
At the heart of the debate lies a fundamental truth: the story of women is inextricably tied to the biological realities that have shaped their struggles. For decades, biological women were systematically excluded from clinical research, not because they lacked significance, but because their experiences were seen as secondary to those of men. This oversight has had tangible consequences, from misdiagnoses to treatments designed for male physiology that often fail to address women’s specific needs. The argument against the term “biological woman” thus reveals more than just semantic disagreement—it reflects a broader effort to downplay the distinct challenges women have faced throughout history.
The Legacy of Exclusion
Biological women have long been sidelined in scientific and cultural narratives. For example, the exclusion of women from medical trials for decades meant that conditions like heart disease were often underdiagnosed in women until the 1990s, when studies revealed that their symptoms were frequently misinterpreted. Similarly, hormonal influences on health and performance were overlooked, perpetuating stereotypes that undervalued women’s contributions in fields ranging from athletics to intellectual endeavors. These historical biases continue to echo in modern debates, where the term “biological woman” is often weaponized to challenge the very foundation of women’s identity.
When lawmakers argue against defining biological women, they inadvertently minimize the real-world implications of this exclusion. A woman’s body, shaped by unique physiological processes, has been the subject of countless assumptions and dismissals. From pain being attributed to “emotional instability” to medications not being tested on women, the consequences are profound. The museum, meant to honor the full spectrum of women’s achievements, becomes a battleground for ideological debates that overshadow the lived experiences of those it seeks to represent.
A Call for Clarity
As someone with expertise in biology and public health, I can attest that ignoring biological womanhood has real, measurable effects. Consider the case of reproductive health: decades of research on male subjects led to a lack of understanding about women’s hormonal fluctuations, resulting in delayed treatments for conditions like premenstrual dysphoria or gestational diabetes. These oversights aren’t abstract—they’re the result of a system that has historically treated women’s bodies as less important than men’s.
The museum’s role is to capture the essence of womanhood, which is not a single trait but a complex interplay of physical, emotional, and social dimensions. Yet, by avoiding a clear definition of “biological woman,” the debate risks reducing this multifaceted identity to a mere political point. Rep. Nicole Malliotakis (R-N.Y.), the bill’s sponsor, emphasized this point bluntly: “A women’s history museum is supposed to be dedicated to women, period.” Her words encapsulate the core issue—how can we honor women’s history without acknowledging the biological realities that have shaped it?
Those who dismissed the term “biological woman” must confront a simple question: Why should women’s history be celebrated without recognizing the specific challenges they have faced? The implications of this denial are far-reaching. If we cannot affirm that women are distinct in their biology, we risk erasing the very foundation of their struggles and triumphs. This is not just about semantics; it’s about whether we value the unique experiences that define women’s contributions to society.
The Ripple Effect of Language
Language shapes perception, and the rejection of “biological woman” sends a powerful message to future generations. When girls see their mothers and grandmothers sidelined in historical accounts, they internalize the idea that their stories are less significant. The museum, as a public institution, has the power to correct this narrative, but its current direction threatens to dilute the essence of womanhood. It is not enough to honor women’s achievements without acknowledging the biological barriers they have overcome.
Women are not one-dimensional beings. They are creators, caregivers, and innovators, yet their identity is often reduced to ideological debates. The museum should serve as a testament to this complexity, celebrating the full range of women’s experiences. However, the current resistance suggests a preference for abstract definitions over tangible realities. This approach risks diminishing the very essence of womanhood that the museum seeks to preserve.
Amelia Earhart, Bessie Coleman, and Elizabeth Blackwell did not achieve their milestones by being abstracted from their biological identities. Their successes were built on overcoming obstacles that were rooted in the way their bodies function. By failing to recognize these biological factors, the museum risks painting a picture of womanhood that is incomplete and, at times, dismissive of the very traits that have driven women to excel in every field.
The debate over the term “biological woman” is not just about language—it’s about power and perception. If lawmakers cannot commit to honoring the biological reality of women, what does that say about their commitment to the progress women have made? The American Women’s History Museum is meant to be a beacon of this progress, yet its development has been marred by a reluctance to define what it means to be a woman. This contradiction must be resolved if the museum is to truly reflect the complexity of womanhood.
In the end, the fight over the museum is a reflection of broader societal attitudes. By refusing to acknowledge the biological dimension of womanhood, we send a message that women’s experiences are not worth prioritizing. The museum’s success hinges on its ability to celebrate these realities, not just as a footnote, but as the cornerstone of its mission. Only then can it honor the full spectrum of what it means to be a woman in a world that has too often underestimated their strength.
