Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History

February 2025

By Betty Williams
CLA President

I don’t know if women still raise their daughters to, “mind their manners,” or if that is a thing of the past. My 29-year-old tells me she still hears the phrase, “Put your hands on your bellybutton” whenever she walks into a boutique or elegant store so as not to touch or disturb anything.

Good manners are generally a good idea, in most social and business situations. But manners and being well-behaved are not the same thing.

A colleague shared an experience with me recently about his discomfort upon entering a professional office building in downtown San Francisco on a Saturday and having to check in with the security guard. He is Latino, and in that setting, he didn’t know if he looked like he “belonged” in the building.

The closest examples I can conjure are nearly 20 years old when my now-husband asked me to take a few rifles into a gun shop in South Dakota that he wanted to sell, and again when I went into a Harley Davidson store to pick something up for him. I felt like I didn’t belong, because I was a woman who knew little about motorcycles, and even less about guns; I felt like a fraud.

In both cases, my colleague and I decided to “Feel the Fear, and Do It Anyway” (a well-regarded book by Susan Jeffers), because we are goal-oriented, and in my case, I got to try on my tough-girl swagger to “fake” that I belonged.

When Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, a Pulitzer Prize-winning historian, wrote, “A well-behaved woman seldom makes history,” it was 1976. At that time, a well-behaved woman meant being silent, obedient, unseen. It did not mean to make history, like the women who stood up for our right to vote or burned their bras in order to be heard.

It turns out, women made their point about feminism without burning a single bra, to debunk the myth stemming from the 1968 Miss America pageant protest in Atlantic City, New Jersey. The truth of the infamous Freedom Trash Can event is that women gathered to stand up for women’s rights, throwing mops, lipsticks, and high heels into the trash. When one woman tossed in a bra, her single action made headlines around the world, the gesture now a permanent part of our past. That act of “misbehaving” was sufficient to make history and a lasting implication for feminism.

For the first time on January 28^th, CLA hosted an event with the East Bay La Raza Lawyers Association (EBLRLA) and the San Francisco La Raza Lawyers Association (SFLRLA), in Oakland, California. Chris Nguyen, CLA CEO, Brian Amaya, Past President and current Vice President of EBLRLA, and I developed this program to meet and discuss how Hispanic and Latino/Latina lawyers and legal professionals can be heard on a state-wide level through CLA. They make up just six percent of our attorney population, despite Hispanic and Latino/Latina people making up 38% of our state’s population.

Speakers Adrieannette Ciccone, CLA Litigation Chair and Racial Justice Committee Chair, Maria Dominguez, EBLRLA President, Ray Manzo, SFLRLA, and Terrance Evans, CLA President, shared stories about how CLA has provided opportunities to be heard and made a call to action to join us in this endeavor.

During the reception, several people shared their appreciation for this first-ever event, feeling “seen” by CLA. Many had questions about getting involved. In addition to our speakers, CLA Board Representatives and Section Executive Committee Members were in attendance to answer questions and share experiences. Thank you, Jill Manning (Antitrust), Catherine Haggerty (Business Law), Josh Surowitz and Naaja Bhatia (International and Immigration Law), Ciaron O’Sullivan, Judith Tang and Ryan Szczepanik (Trusts and Estates), and Amy Spivey (Taxation).

This meeting was an example of how we can use our experiences, leadership roles, and voices to make change. We can all refuse to stand quietly. Regardless of our gender, race, background, education, or the many characteristics which might identify us. We can take actions that resonate within our communities and around the globe. We can make a difference by proudly being disobedient. When we see the change, we are making history. These things don’t happen overnight. They come in small steps. One at a time. Until one person becomes two, then four. Together, our steps get louder, and stronger, until we are ignoring the sign in the hallway telling us to walk, not run. Instead, we’re sprinting, because well-behaved people seldom make history.