Memorial Page

Remembrances of Norma

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I had the privilege of working with Norma in two moments. First, when I was in my very first "real job" after college working at Our Bodies Ourselves. Norma was one of the amazing founders I got to know a bit. She always stood out from (the very impressive!) group as especially warm and always remembering me in a way that made me feel seen and special. Because of that experience, I felt comfortable reaching out to ask her to be my advisor when I was working on my master's thesis -- "Who says it's the Bible of Women's Health?" Norma gave a generous yes, and she shared her wisdom, perspectives, and experiences with me in ways that left plenty of room for me to come to my own insights and conclusions. Truly, she knew what mentorship was. I will miss her smile, her warmth, and her wisdom. May her memory be a blessing for many, many years to come. Marianne McPherson

[English below] Pagina commemorative di Noi Donne. La prima volta che incontrai Norma (e Judy) fu alla conferenza di donne e salute tenutasi a Roma negli anni settanta del secolo scorso e fu quell’incontro che mi spinse ad andare negli Stati Uniti e in Francia ad imparare. Norma ci ha lasciate l’11 maggio del 2025 all’eta’ di 93 anni e da quel che capisco a lei si attagliano le parole del poeta Dylan Thomas: Non entrare lieve in quella buona notte, la vecchiaia dovrebbe infiammarsi e strepitare al termine del giorno, Ribellarsi, ribellarsi alla luce che si estingue. Norma era una persona sapiente e di calma autorita’. Non ricordo che cosa mi dicesse quendo l’ho incontrata, ma so che mi diede forza. Norma e le altre donne DEL LIBRO (incontrai Judy, Ruth, Jane e Wendy) ci hanno lasciato un done impagabile – di vederci da dentro e da fuori, di vedere i nostri corpi come nostri ma anche come fonte di conoscenza e di studio che ci ha trasformato in soggetti sociali e politici, proprietarie dei nostri corpi, definite dal corpo e dalla mente. Norma aveva uno sguardo tranquillo e determinato, e un grarispetto per altri ed altre. Non parlava mai dall’alto in basso, ma con il rispetto e lo stupore che si trasformano i conoscenza. Ci manchera’ sopratutto in un’era in cui ci serrvirebbere molte come lei. Link per un seminario italiano e inglese di due anni fa organizzato con Norma Swenson, Judy Norsigian, Jane Cottingham, Filomena Rosiello della casa delle Donne di Milano, Maura Cossutta e Vicky Franzinetti per i 50 anni del libro Noi e il Nostro Corpo.
Victoria Franzinetti
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I first met Norma (and Judy) at a Women and Health conference in Rome in the 1970s, which prompted me to go the States and then to France to learn. Norma died on May 11, 2025 aged 93, and from what I understand fought to live, as Dylan Thomas said: Do not go gently into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at the close of the day. Rage, rage against the dying light. Norma was a person of knowledge and quiet authority. I can’t remember what she said to me when I met her, but I know she gave me strength. She and the other women of THE BOOK (I met Judy, Ruth, Jane and Wendy) gave us all an incredible gift – to see ourselves inside and from the outside, to see our bodies as ours and also as moments of knowledge and study, which turned us into political and social subjects, us, the owners of our bodies, defined by body and mind. Norma had a quiet determined look, and great respect for others. She did not speak down to people, but with respect and with the amazement that feeds into knowledge. She will be missed especially at a time when more Normas are needed. Link for a seminar in Italian and English in 2023 organised with Norma Swenson, Judy Norsigian, Jane Cottingham, and Filomena Rosiello of the Milan Casa delle Donne, Maura Cossutta and Vicky Franzinetti for the 50 year anniversary of the book Our Bodies Ourselves. Victoria Franzinetti

I loved Norma. I can’t believe she has ‘gone’ -- she lives and will always -- ALWAYS -- live vividly in my mind and heart.
She called me “Janie.' She envisaged a future for women, comprised of all the elements -- political, medical, social, cultural -- that would (could, should) enhance our strengths and ownership of ourselves and our lives. She constantly worked for and longed for the perfect realization of that vision. She lived vividly in the present tense, but there was ALWAYS more to do. Still, she always had time. The intensity of her seeking and the breadth of her knowledge informed, stretched and strengthened me. Her travels with Judy, Agnes and Paula and others, and her work with Sally, connected us to the world. During the past half-century she and I researched and wrote about maternity care, acquiring more knowledge, hoping for reform, and yes! REVOLUTION! -- she was my writing pal, my colleague, my sister in struggle -- my fellow traveler in the best sense. During our travels to meetings, workshops and conferences over the decades, we told each other the stories of our lives and our loves. Two incurable romantics! Finally, I’m ever grateful to have spent long, rich days with Norma when she was living part time with Len in at Greenpeace in Maine. Memories fill me, spill out, generate more, branching out. Too many for now. Somehow they always leave me smiling -- not exactly happy, but in touch with what was most wonderful about her. I imagine that each of you has so many stories to tell. Sending love to you, Sarah, and to all of you who have lived loving Norma. Jane Pincus

Dearest Sarah, I was deeply saddened to hear that your mother passed away. She was a pioneer among us. Norma stood tall as a leader. For many of us who were young feminists in our early twenties, your mother became our older and wiser mother. I recall meeting Norma in 1975 at the Our Bodies, Ourselves Women’s Health Conference at Harvard Medical School. Judy Norsigian had asked me to present a workshop there. My first impression of Norma has lasted a lifetime because she was different – in a good way – than the rest of us youngsters who were outspoken, radical, and impatient with each other on our journey to change the world. When Norma spoke, it was with authority. Your mother was a master of research complexities and medical data. Yet her writing and talks were straight forward and easy to understand. We could rely on her knowledge to be accurate and right on the mark. Her expertise was invaluable to the women’s health movement. She was a role model for me. In addition to childbirth practices, your mother was an advocate for access to safe birth control and abortion. In 1980, Norma, Judy, and Steve Minkin traveled to D.C.and stayed at my house overnight. The next day was the Congressional hearing on Depo-Provera and we wanted to be there. (Note: In early 1979 Depo-Provera was a relatively obscure injectable contraceptive given to mostly poor and minority women. I was executive director of the National Women’s Health Network then. I made Depo-Provera a priority issue, and organized a national media campaign to publicize its dangers and to get it banned. Steve Minkin had given me the research studies, animal and human, by Upjohn Drug Co, the maker, showing that the drug caused 2 types of cancer– uterine and breast.
[Norma's 1987 Depo-provera Congressional Testimony.] Norma’s quiet presence and calm demeanor were a gift to us. Your mother had a certain grace about her. I never heard an angry word. They say that the best leaders do not run to the front of the line to claim celebrity and accolades. Instead, they provide the constant, resourceful, strategic, and sometimes unseen momentum from behind to push everyone forward. That was your mom. I aspired to be that kind of leader. On occasion I gave credit to others for my actions, hoping they could become happily engaged and begin to move forward. Norma had a way of staying above the fray when political differences caused rifts and splits within the women’s health movement. I admired her ability to do so. It was not easy to be a leader. There were many conflicts especially in the early years – people with self-serving personal agendas, false accusations, betrayals by friends, and some folks simply afraid of calling out doctors as a group for their abuses. Much to her credit, Norma was able to steer clear of the discord. And she was truly blessed to have the kindness of the OBOS Collective sisterhood to support her both personally and professionally. You and I may have met in passing a couple years ago at Byllye Avery’s 40th anniversary celebration in Atlanta for the Black Women’s Health Imperative. Norma, Judy, and I were given an award that evening and a standing ovation. I know you must have been so proud of your mother. We all were. I am including our photo together (see photo left). Your mother was beautifully radiant that night, and that is how I will always remember her. Sarah, Your mother made a difference in the lives of millions of women and their families. Norma lived a good long life and made the world a better place for all of us. Hugs, Belita Cowan

Norma, Belita Cowan [Founder, National Women's Health Network] and Judy Norsigian at the Black Women's Health Imperative 40th Anniversary, September 2023

I've have had so many conversations about Norma over the weeks since her death and heard from so many who, although they never met her, are so grateful for the profound impact she had on their lives. Talking to friends - most of whom 'came of age' during the 1980s - it is clear how we were able to benefit from, and build on, the foundational work Norma did with other 'founding mothers' to establish the Women's Health Movement and support us to assume we had (or should have) rights over our own bodies and empower us to make our own decisions about our health. Norma was, of course, a hugely influential international figure and I'm in awe of the range and depth of the campaigning she did throughout her life. I have so many found personal memories of Norma too - as a much valued friend of my mother, Sheila Kitzinger, and father, Uwe Kitzinger, and to the whole family. The last time I accompanied my father to America we went to the opera with Norma - and I remember them collapsing together with laughter as they helped one another struggle up the steps, comparing this to the last time they had danced together and ruefully sharing the challenges of old age. I am eternally grateful too that she, along with Sarah, came to my father's memorial in 2024 in Oxford, England and Norma did us the honour of speaking at the event in New College chapel. I cherish her testimonial to my father, and my mother too in that speech, delivered with typical wisdom, sensitivity, warmth and verve. My last memory of Norma will be at the drinks party in the college quad afterward: surrounded by a group of women, leading a lively discussion - vibrant, charismatic, thoughtful and just completely lovely. Jenny Kitzinger

Norma was a gem. She and my mother attended GLS and Tufts together, served in each other's weddings, and remained lifelong friends. Norma and her late husband John would come over on Christmas and other occasions; I always enjoyed their company. John's aircraft was notably shot down in WWII and he was ferried to safety by the French Resistance - he told a great story. Norma was famously late, but she always gave you all her attention and made you feel noticed. It's likely my mom took that picture of Norma at the beach. My condolences to you, Sarah. I hope you are well. Ted Dagnese.

For the last six years, I had the privilege of calling Norma my friend. To put into words what she meant to me feels almost impossible. Her presence made everyone around her feel seen, heard and valued and her friendship is a gift I will carry in my heart for the rest of my life. Through conversation, laughter, car rides and meaningful silences, she became a guiding presence in my life. Someone whose moral clarity and emotional depth helped me navigate difficult decisions and moments of doubt. I miss her every day. But more than anything I am grateful for everything she taught me, for the way she showed up, for her amazing stories, for her courage and above all, her friendship.
Raquel Pereira

For what woman of a particular vintage does not recall that first edition of OBOS and the discussions that it initiated. The liberation and insight that came from women having women's best interests front and center, at the age of adolescence, was enormous. To all that knew her and loved her in close proximity, and to all who benefitted from her as educator and health advocate, my condolences and my heartfelt toast to Norma Meras Swenson. I honestly can't think of anyone who changed more lives in our generation than her. Claudette Jocelyn Stern

Your mother's work through OBOS was transformative, and deeply needed, by me and my community of young dykes, back in the mid 80s and early 90s. I think all if us had copies on our shelves, and it was one of our only and best health resources. I'm so glad (and was I ever intimidated at first, but she was so warm and welcoming) that I got to meet and spend time with your mother while we worked on Paula's memoir. With continued deep sympathy for your loss, Tony

A young woman in the early 1970s, I was confused and demoralized by the misinformation and outright misogyny with which doctors approached me and my reproductive health. Then, I found Our Bodies, Ourselves. It's not an overstatement to say the book saved my life. I am always and forever grateful to Norma Swenson. May angels sing her to her rest.
Annie R McEwen

Darling Norma, The world has lost light with your passing, especially at this time when your wisdom and your passion for reproductive and maternal rights is needed most. I love you for being my friend who told me that my working full time will not compromise my ability to be a good mother, my neighbor who let my kids pick wild raspberries in your yard, my mentor in guiding me through the prickly field of public health academia, and my advocate- lifting up my work on child marriage and reproductive rights through your posts and recommendation. We, your mentees and friends, will keep the light you created and the work you have fostered alive in these very difficult times, and we will train the next generation to sustain the fight and build progress. Always in solidarity! Love, Anita

Breaths
by Senegalese poet, Birago Diop

The dead are not gone forever.
They are in the paling shadows,
And in the darkening shadows.
The dead are not beneath the ground,
They are in the rustling tree,
In the murmuring wood,
In the flowing water,
In the still water,
In the lonely place, in the crowd:
The dead are not dead.
Listen more often to things rather than beings.
Hear the fire's voice,
Hear the voice of water.
In the wind, hear the sobbing of the trees.
It is the breathing of our forefathers,
Who are not gone, not beneath the ground,
Not dead.

The dead are not gone forever.
They are in a woman's breast,
A child's crying, a glowing ember.
The dead are not beneath the earth,
They are in the flickering fire,
In the weeping plant, the groaning rock,
The wooded place, the home.
The dead are not dead.
Listen more often to things rather than beings.
Hear the fire's voice,
Hear the voice of water.
In the wind, hear the sobbing of the trees.
It is the breath of our forefathers.

Sent for Norma from Coudou Bop, Senegal

I met Norma in the mid-1970s in Cambridge through the Women's Community Health Center where I worked at the time. WCHC and the Boston Women's Health Book Collective collaborated on several women's health projects together. It didn't take me long to learn of Norma's fierce, principled, and collaborative commitment to women's health, radical social change throughout the world, and the extrication of pregnancy and childbirth experiences from medicine's grasp. When I traveled to New Delhi for a conference of the International Sociological Association in 1986 she (and perhaps Judy) supplied me with copies of OBOS and arranged a meeting with Dr. C. Sathyamala, Nalini Bhanot and other women's health activists. I gave them copies of OBOS and they gave me copies of Taking Sides: The Choices before the Health Worker, a book they had written (with Nirmala Sundharam) and just published that same year (Asian Network for Innovative Training Trust [ANITRA],1986), which I carried back to the United States for Norma and the Collective. Taking Sides argues that disease is a product of social, political, and economic forces and focuses on the everyday experiences of health workers in India. Our meeting took place before the time of online media, when dialogues took place in person, by telephone, or through the mail. This is but one of many examples in my own life of Norma's commitment to and vision of justice for women's health everywhere. She took every opportunity to help women connect in person, to exchange experiences and ideas, and to work together to change the world. For a time during the mid-70s, Norma and I were graduate students together in Sociology at Brandeis University and, through activism and graduate school we became dear friends. She attended my wedding in 1981. Norma was never content with the gains made, always looking ahead to what still must be done. Throughout everything, she cherished people around her, from around the world, and devoted her love and attention to friendships near and far. May we continue the struggle in her name, Susan Bell

Norma and I and Silvia Dominiguez co-designed and taught a course for the (GCWS) Graduate Studies in Gender, Culture, Women, and Sexuality : Gender, Health and Marginalization: Through a Critical Feminist Lens in Fall 2014. More times than I can count, I bragged to friends and family that I was actually teaching a gender x health course with none other, a founder of OBOS! I was star struck, but Norma was too feminist, too grounded, and just too people-centered to abide any fangirling. Norma’s breadth and depth of knowledge—and her connections crisscrossing the globe never ceased to amaze me. At the same time, she was ever-humble, warm, interested in what WE- her co-teachers and her students- were doing and thinking. In the classroom, she was a force- wise, sharp, funny, and always ready with just the right story at the right moment. The students loved her, and so did I. And her radical feminist commitment to equality never faltered. I remember when it was time to calculate grades at the end of term, our threesome had some difficulty aligning how best to do that. One obstacle was Norma declaring—and I think I can quote her verbatim- “Who am I to evaluate these students?” I was at once exasperated and grateful for the humbling reminder. The course was selected for inclusion as one of MIT’s OpenCourseWare offerings and I recall the fine toothed comb Norma used when reviewing the contract to publish the course. Her exacting attention to detail was incredible; it reflected, again, her commitment to fairness and her healthy mistrust of big institutions. A few years later, when I joined a group of menstrual health scholars in a working group at Columbia University, we invited Norma to speak on our founding panel. We traveled- the two of us- via train to NYC and stayed in a hotel near campus. During the event, Norma wowed all in attendance with her clever wit, deep expertise and unfailing capacity to immediately connect with her audience. After the successful event, a small group of us retired to the hotel bar and enjoyed a round (or 2?) of dry martinis. I can still picture Norma, wearing some fabulous jacket, smiling and laughing. She moved between leaning in with her fascinating stories of people and places, and sitting back with her warm and knowing smile as others shared. I will remember that night forever. It encapsulated the joy of feminist community. I remained in touch with Norma through the years of her life because she periodically sent me news articles and other resources. Some were group emails and some were just for me. She broadcast events such as Boston Rally to Defend Abortion, the virtual launch of Nossos Corpos por Nós Mesmas - ,Our Bodies, Ourselves in Brazilian Portuguese [she was so excited and proud about that one!] and the Boston screening of the beautiful documentary, She’s Beautiful When She’s Angry, in which OBOS was lovingly featured. It was at the latter where I think I hugged Norma for the last time. Norma was always plugged into the who, what, when and where- and she wanted everyone to connect. This was one way- even in her later years- she cast strand upon strand of her feminist activist web. Norma remained a treasure trove of a resource to me- only an email away. For example, when I was searching for connections in East Africa to facilitate some field work I was planning, of course she knew people. She introduced me to the late Rasna Warah, Kenyan feminist writer and journalist, who proved to be a great contact. Norma leaves an indelible legacy. Her invaluable work lives through the lives she touched and wove together into a sturdy feminist network, the texts she wrote and midwifed, and the knowledge she generated and spread. She was a pathbreaker and a colorful ball of purpose-driven energy. I am so grateful she caught me up in her web. I am better for it. Chris Bobel

Sarah, since your Mom was the eldest OBOS member, I'm younger enough than you to be a full "Collective Baby" with baby pictures in Our Bodies, Ourselves. In that way, your Mom was a part of my entire life. (I've seen pictures of our Moms together when my Mom, Joan Ditzion, was pregnant with me.) Her death is a real loss to the extended OBOS community, and she will be sorely missed. I'm sending good thoughts and fond memories of your Mom your way as you and your family work through this challenging time. Rob Ditzion

I connect Norma to these: caring, epidemics, Maine, plants, yoga, and plants. She showed how she cared about me, wanting me to eat more to keep my weight up, to handle my diagnosed osteoporosis without too much medication and deferral to physician’s advice, and to be cautious about living in any congregate facility for aging adulthood and disability. We spoke almost daily during the intense months of the pandemic, she having expected one to happen before it did, and expecting another one to happen again and again without adequate preparation. She told me about Walter Willett and Chan School of Public Health’s website The Nutrition Source. She also got me onto Laurie Garrett whose research and books forewarn about epidemics. My association of Norma with Maine stems from the fact that most of the time after Norma joined the yoga class I was in with Agnes Norsigian, she was happily seeing weekly seeing Len, always returning in time not to miss our Tuesday yoga sessions. I also had a love relationship with a Mainer, Steve Bryant, who joined the yoga class but, alas, died in a canoe accident in 2003. There were two very concrete things Norma did to help me with that loss. One as to help me create a notebook about Steve. How and where in town to get photos copied? She knew that. Encouragement? A sit-down over the work in progress? She offered both those. The other long-lasting concrete help from Norma was to drive me to the weekly class, a drive which I had done previously with Steve. Those drives offered regular chances to chat and get to know each other better with me invariably ensconced in a deep, comfortable passenger seat in whatever used car she had acquired and needed for her drives up to Maine or elsewhere in New England. In these drives I learned about the successful effort Norma made to get an aunt out of a bad nursing home situation and back into a home environment. I almost wrote, just now, “heroic effort,” but she likely would not have welcomed that label, although she knew it was exceptional and wanted to model it for others. I learned about multiple other contributions Norma made to family members in various New England locations. Norma, as others have pointed out, was terrific at making group occasions special. Once the yoga class had a surprise birthday party for Agnes in my backyard. Flowers? Norma had them in hand in more ways than one. The yoga class and the socializing over wonderful dinners that Agnes cooked for us gave us information on the traveling that Norma and Agnes did together for Our Bodies, Ourselves, and how Norma took care of Agnes’ plants while she was staff up at World Fellowship Center or otherwise away from home. At the beginning, husband John Swenson was still alive and being cared for as he got sicker and until he died at home. We also got to see videos from time to time of dance performances of Sarah’s that had just happened. Norma to me was a true New Englander, not just a lover of Maine. She said the weather was always unpredictable, seemed to have lived as a young person in many locales. We did not live far from each other, but I was from Wisconsin and much was different here. I always thought and dearly hoped that Norma would live far into her 90s. We often noted how we differed ten years in age, almost by the month. Agnes was about another decade older. Another thing Norma and I had in common was having single children, both daughters who lived far away. Hers, Sarah, came often to be with Norma, and during the pandemic Thanksgiving, a cooked turkey and extras was promised and delivered by Sarah to my house. Who could ask for more kindness and friendship. During the beautiful spring that came with the pandemic, Norma took me on two tours in our separate cars to see blossoming shrubs and trees in the Newton Cemetery and in the Mt Auburn Cemetery. In the latter, I got to see the stone and plot where she would be buried. Sometimes I got photos of plant via email or message, some of which she took on trips with Len to visit friends in Europe. I had early on learned that she impressively knew Latin and popular names. Norma got used to the idea that I liked taking a complex lunch and eating outside in nice natural places, maybe stretching the norms. This may have played a part in the “au plein air” meals she treated me to in what we came to call “the bower” outside her house. It was set up with chairs and side tables and surrounded by trees she had planted or nurtured and she could expound upon. The food that she brought out, including wines and cheeses, were often exotic to me and always delicious. She showed me in these visits beloved potted plants that came out from the garage in summer along new wonders that had been bought recently. I heard about house repairs and improvements that presented financial and design challenges, some of which were overcome. Also I learned about the a caring relationships that Norma had with neighbors who kept in regular touch with her. And about how the wonderful Kris who helped Norma with snow, leaves, and home improvements, with amazing regularity and pure goodness of heart. Norma-inspired, no doubt. As a fellow Newton resident, Norma sent me material about causes that she cared a lot about in recent years. I have always been more oriented to state issues and am proud that I researched first and told her about Dignity Alliance Massachusetts where her knowledge, writing and incisive comments at meetings were greatly appreciated. At one local post-election gathering to which she took me, I also saw too how much she was respected by others who were similarly unhappy with developments in Newton. She fervently hoped to help save the old library that is currently becoming a large Senior Center and to stop with others, the destruction of trees in the Newton Cemetery and elsewhere in town.
Dorothy Weitzman

I met Norma only once in person, at the Ethical Issues in Reproductive Technology: Analysis by Women conference at Hampshire College in 1980. She made such a strong impression on me that it has guided my whole life course. Norma was both powerful and reassuring--a serene cyclone. Her work has transformed women's healthcare, in the U.S. and internationally. She will be greatly missed. Julie Melrose

Norma:
An Amazon Wonder Woman towering with power, charisma, and glamour in my childhood. A unique thinker and contrarian with a sharp wit and humor. A mischievous sparkle in her eye. A smile using more muscles than most of us have. Both passionately collective, and also with minor or major objections to the consensus. A natural leader and action-taker and cross-cultural and international relationship-builder in a transformative but sometimes frustratingly “leaderless” movement.The elder who linked the collective to a different generation and the knowledge and power of the childbirth movement before. A lion who roared. A devoted and engaged close friend, intellectual collaborator, co-writer and reader at Sunapee, supporter of my mother’s contributions and memoir. Pilates partner, carpooling lifer, loving to and loved by Hannah & Ben. A Massachusetts local with the enunciation to match. Passionate about and integrated with Jewish culture since high school (or before?), remembering the holocaust and her husband’s part in fighting the war and being very serious and passionate about “never again”. She was a flirt in the best and most empowered sense of the word: initiating, enjoying, and engaging with confidence and relish. Someone who was fully in and enjoyed her body and her relationships with men in an empowered, passionate, and adventurous way - in her own way and own time swimming almost effortlessly against the relentless tide of convention and misunderstanding. A loving proud mother to her accomplished dancer daughter. A devoted long-term friend, collaborator, and champion for a better world. She lived with verve, style, and impact. Amazon. Hannah Doress

Norma requested some Jewish humor at this memorial but I'm not sure what she meant. Did she mean how Jews poke fun at their own stereotypes with jokes such as, "Why did the Jewish mother want to be buried near Bloomingdale's? [Pause] So her daughter would visit her twice a week." Maybe she meant how reminiscing about the deceased at the traditional Shiva can include stories that illustrate what everyone knows about the person ... at the expense of the person... but always with respect. So that's what I am aiming for today. The Meras' moved to Boston to an apartment around the corner from ours when Norma and I were both 10 years old. I was born in November and Norma the following February. Since the cut-off date was New Year's, I was a year ahead of her in school. I don't remember any bullying by students but we had some really cruel teachers. The worst was the sixth grade teacher who deliberately gave Norma low grades so she had to take special tests in order to enter Girls Latin School. We lived exactly one mile from Girls Latin. Norma was certain that walking those two miles five days a week was the reason we lived into our nineties. The other person we often walked with was Elaine Des Rosiers. Elaine became a Dominican nun right out of high school and had an outstanding education and career in the order. Norma and I were honored to be the two students from her youth that Elaine included in her autobiography. Attendance was taken in every class at Girls Latin. If you tried to get out of a class by claiming menstrual cramps, the matron would make you lie in a darkened room and feed you peppermint tea. Actually quite soothing. Notes from home were required for an absence so it was hard to play hooky. Norma was interested in fashion and style in clothes from an early age. Bonwit Teller opened its high-end boutique store in Boston in the spring of Norma's junior, my senior year. She convinced me to play hooky with her on a day when Bonwits was having a sale at which the outfits would be on racks out in the open. We went, couldn't afford to buy anything even on sale, but had fun pawing through the racks and trying on clothes. Then we had to get notes. Norma got a note from her mother Nellie. My mother scolded me but was happy that I finally showed some interest in clothes. There were only two places we ever stopped into on the way home from Girls Latin. The first was the Beth Israel Hospital where my father was the storekeeper and where Norma indulged and joined my obsession to poke into every corner of the hospital. The second stop was the Brigham's ice cream parlor for a different indulgence. The two mile a day walk kept us slim in spite of all the sodas and sundaes we consumed. I spent a lot of my adolescence waiting for Norma who was often -- no always -- late. I learned to go on to school if she didn't come down soon enough when I rang her bell. She never once was early enough to pick me up at my apartment. Several times going someplace "dress up," I found her rinsing out a pair of stockings and hanging them in front of the open oven door to dry. Even in the 1990s she missed a bus we were going to take together. You all have lots of those stories. Did Norma ever own a watch? She didn't in her teen years so I may have an explanation for her chronic tardiness. The Merases had clocks all over the apartment but the clocks showed different times. While I nagged, "Hurry up," Norma was figuring out, "My father set the kitchen clock back five minutes and then my mother moved it ahead ten minutes," etc., etc. I never saw her correct a clock. Time was never exact for Norma, only a fluid approximation. We loved to dance. We always assumed that our FBI files started when we went to a Youth for Wallace dance. (That was Henry, not George) We were there for the dancing, not the politics. Norma had a great time until one partner dipped her too low and dropped her on her head. In our later, modern dance days, one of the few things we did together while we were in different colleges, was to go to a master dance class taught by the elegant Jose Limon. Norma probably empathized with Sarah's dance career better than a mother who had no familiarity with modern dance. Norma's teen knowledge of Judaism came from hearing lively discussions between her father and my mother, from attending a few of my family's Passover seders, and from joining me at some events, such as my 16th birthday party, with the Labor Zionist youth group Habonim. I moved to Kansas after college in 1952 and had only occasional contact with Norma until I moved back to Boston in 1970. I then contributed bits to several editions of "Our Bodies, Ourselves." I have Norma to thank for my proudest achievement. When Paula Doress Worters had the idea of expanding the "Growing Older" chapter of OBOS into a full book, Norma suggested me as a co-author to Paula. Thus started a productive collaboration and another precious friendship. We send our love to Paula today. I have to set one rumor straight. I had nothing to do with Norma and my Brandeis classmate Len Van Gaasbeek's one date in 1949 nor with their reconnecting years later. All I did was give them my approval and blessing. Norma and I talked about personal matters in our teens but never later. The one serious adult talk we had was about how hard it is to witness prolonged deaths as she did with John and with Len and I did with my husband. My special condolences and gratitude to Sarah for arranging Norma's final days the way she requested, as hard as that must have been. Sarah could not have honored Norma more any other way. To close, I have a pre-HIPAA joke. I leave it to you imagine how Norma would have critiqued it: A woman called a hospital switchboard and asked how Mrs. Schwartz in Room 102 was doing. The operator put her on hold for a minute, then came back and reported, "Mrs. Schwartz is doing very well. This morning her lab work came back all normal so her doctor says she can go home in two days. "Hurrah" shouted the woman. "You must be a relative to be so pleased" observed the operator. "No" said the caller. I'm Mrs. Schwartz in Room 102. Nobody tells me anything." My shared condolences and best wishes to everyone here today. Thank you for letting me reminisce about my oldest friend, the very brilliant, creative, and dynamic Norma Meras Swenson. Zichrona livracha. May her memory be a blessing. Diana Laskin Siegal.

Where the Sea Meets The Land a film with Luke Johnson, Norma Meras Swenson, and Osbey Jackson.

Nota de duelo: Norma Meras Swenson
Desde Taller Salud nos unimos al duelo global por la partida física de Norma Meras Swenson, incansable defensora de los derechos reproductivos, educadora feminista y coautora del histórico libro “Nuestros cuerpos, nuestras vidas”. Norma fue un faro de sabiduría y ternura para muchas generaciones de mujeres y personas que luchan por una salud integral, accesible y basada en la autodeterminación. Su legado vive en cada cuerpo que ha sido escuchado, en cada comunidad que se organiza por la justicia y en cada conversación transformadora sobre nuestros derechos. Agradecemos su vida, su entrega, y su ejemplo. Abrazamos con solidaridad a su familia, amistades y compañeras de lucha en todo el mundo. Hoy seguimos sembrando su legado en cada acción feminista que apuesta por la vida digna. Que descanse en poder.
Taller Salud Puerto Rico
*
Note of Mourning: Norma Meras Swenson
We at Taller Salud join in the global mourning for the passing of Norma Meras Swenson, a tireless advocate for reproductive rights, feminist educator, and co-author of the landmark book "Our Bodies, Our Lives." Norma was a beacon of wisdom and tenderness for many generations of women and people fighting for comprehensive, accessible healthcare based on self-determination. Her legacy lives on in every body that has been heard, in every community that organizes for justice, and in every transformative conversation about our rights. We are grateful for her life, her dedication, and her example. We embrace her family, friends, and fellow activists around the world with solidarity. Today, we continue to spread her legacy in every feminist action that champions a dignified life. May she rest in power.
Taller Salud [Health Workshop] Puerto Rico

The first time I met Norma I was young and full of hope and she gave me more hope. She and Judy were wonderful. The last time I met Norma (online) she was full of determination and intelligence. What a life, from hope to determination filled with knowledge and love for life. Vicky Franzinetti

I just found out last night that this titan has transitioned to the role of ancestor. Norma Swenson (93), an original co-author of Our Bodies, Ourselves, was a mentor, a human life preserver during my doctoral studies, a friend, a rabble rouser and the person who once told me “It’s a MYTH that old people don’t have sex!!” She was brilliant and seemed always to be exploring the edges of her own evolution with gusto. About a dozen years ago, she took me out in her newly acquired manual transmission car, having learned to drive a stick-shift about a week before. (We stalled out on the T tracks once, but somehow made it to where we were going.) She had fought for the cause of women’s/people’s bodily autonomy since the time she was radicalized by her own mid-century, medicalized childbirth experience. She was also the most gorgeous nonagenarian you ever met. “A timeless beauty” as I once heard a colleague call her. Norma, I’ll miss you and your generous and wildly unfettered spirit. Thanks for everything. Candice Belanoff

When entering a room, Norma brought with her a gentle commanding presence and an openness to all. We met Norma in the mid-1990’s at the annual winter solstice gathering, held at Judy’s house. During the evening, each of us would reflect back on our own important moments or experiences of the past year. Often Norma’s reflections were about her world at that time and memories of New England. Sometimes she would read passages from the New England Yankee magazine and relate these to her own stories of past and present. We remember Norma so fondly as a woman with oceans of caring, giving and generosity. She was a story teller and wonderful woman who listened. Mary Ide and Mary Mathias

Haiku for Norma
With Appreciation

We were so young then
We barely knew Our Bodies
Til Collective was born

Remember Norma
Her deep commitment, wit, warmth
Her beautiful hair

As our paths crisscrossed
As bodies aged- she stayed strong
Sisterhood our Balm

-Paula Rayman

Dear Judy, Norma was such a powerhouse. My main memory of being with her was the afternoon in Chicago at the time of a MANA [Midwives of North America] conference in 1994 when Studs Terkel interviewed us. To him, we were both kids, and he gave us a delightful tale of what the word Midwife meant to him and people in Chicago when he was growing up. "Midwife! The very word brings forth such mystery..." As I remember, we both listened more than we spoke. Thanks for reaching out to me. I share your sorrow at her death. And do convey my condolences to Sarah. Ina May Gaskin
-
Note from Judy Luce: Studs Terkel would have interviewed them as part of his oral history project and would be stored at the Chicago History Museum — Studs Terkel Oral History Center). I think that was the year there was an ICEA conference and LaLeche League overlapped with MANA. Studs would have been 82, Ina May 54, Norma, 62 and I, a mere 51. It feels like lifetimes ago.

Sarah - I remember when your mom came to Newton South High to discuss Our Bodies Ourselves! I freaked out my older mom by locking myself in our bathroom looking at my private parts with a mirror (ha ha)! This legacy kept me sane & proud. Helaine, dysmenorrea survivor

Dear Sarah, I'm not sure if you remember me, but I am one of the legions of admirers and "groupies" who have been filled with awe and inspiration for Norma, Judy, and the other OBOS founders since meeting them in the mid-1970s. I was so sorry to learn of your mom's passing, and described to Judy the cascade of memories that have been floating through my mind since hearing the sad news. Like so many others, I came to see Norma and Judy as larger than life figures. Their premier place in the Women's Health Pantheon is richly deserved. I once drove with them to New Haven some time in the early 1980s, and will never forget sitting in the backseat and listening to their conversation. I was the beneficiary of a remarkable survey course on current issues in Women's Health, and that feeling resurfaced whenever I was with them. Norma was brilliant, a committed activist, a compelling advocate, and she was opinionated in a principled and thoughtful manner. But despite her profession achievements and accolades, you were always your mom's greatest source of pride and joy. Her eyes shined whenever she talked about your dancing, choreography, teaching, and world travels. She always seemed happiest when updating me and/or others about your life and professional pursuits and successes in NYC, Los Angeles, Missouri, and Italy, among other places. I might be mistaken about some of those recollections, as my memory is more like a spaghetti strainer these days, but it was clear that your mother's passion and power has been passed down to you. Sharing word of your approaching or previous visits were the only "announcements'" that seemed to make her genuinely happy and relaxed. Last thoughts on Norma the Mighty...best hair ever (at least among those I know), great skin, lifelong love of NH, lustiness (!), her classy way of wearing her glasses halfway down her nose, her legendary skill as an editor and wordsmith, her delight in good food, and her love of nature and preservation. Rest in peace and power, Norma. And please keep your radiant light shining, Sarah. Your mom lives within you. With gratitude for Norma's life, and with my condolences, Joan Rachlin

I am deeply saddened by the news of Norma's passing and want to send you my sincerest condolences. I (together with Lisa at 63 Ridge) had the privilege of helping Norma gather and disseminate information to the block about the City's proposal to upzone the various village centers a couple summers ago, and was so inspired by your mother's fierce spirit and long-standing activism towards building better communities. Between discussions of city politics, she would share with us tidbits of your dancing career and pictures of her visits to you in Italy. Her undeniable pride in you was apparent to all of us who were lucky to have had spent time with her. Like so many of her other involvements, Norma's legacy would live on in our little neighborhood and she will be dearly missed. Warm regards, Karen

I met Norma at a church in Brookline, where Ruth and I were attending a meeting. She entered the room in a beautiful black dress, carrying herself with quiet strength and elegance. Ruth and I encouraged her to join our women’s liberation group, and from that moment on, we lovingly referred to her as The Lady in Black. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship and the early days of the woman I would later call Queen Norma. Norma brought her brilliance, warmth, and deep commitment to everything she did. From her early leadership in the Boston Childbirth Education Association to her global work with Our Bodies, Ourselves, she was a fierce advocate for women’s health, education, and rights. She helped bring our shared vision to communities around the world, always with grace, humor, and unwavering integrity. On a personal level, she helped shape some of the most joyful and meaningful chapters of my life. Together, we created memorable Passover Seders, exercised with Judy’s mother Agnes, and shared the kind of laughter and intimacy that only true friendship allows. And most profoundly, it was Norma who introduced Judy and Irv—without whom there would be no Kyra, and without whom I would be missing two of my closest friends. That single connection shaped so much love in so many lives. In 1994, we traveled together to the Women’s World Conference in China, where we stood side-by-side as we heard the words: “Women’s rights are human rights, and human rights are women’s rights.” We knew then that we were living history—and making it. In Norma’s later years, her daughter Sarah extended her mother’s legacy in the most beautiful way. Sarah helped facilitate a profound series of oral history conversations that I was honored to share with Norma and many of our fellow founders of Our Bodies, Ourselves. With Sarah’s loving presence, guidance, and deep understanding of our shared history, we captured stories, laughter, reflections, and memories that would have otherwise been lost. Sarah supported me through each of these conversations—with Vilunya, Jane, Wendy, Kiki, Joan, Judy, Paula, and the founder kids. Each session was a sacred gathering, and Sarah made it possible. Most tenderly of all, she made possible my final conversation with Norma—a rich, generous, and unforgettable dialogue that will live in my heart forever.
Norma’s radiant intellect, generosity of spirit, and deep, magnetic presence brought our work into spaces we never imagined—and brought me to parts of myself I wouldn’t have known without her. She gave me the gift of a life more fully lived. I will always be grateful to her, and to Sarah—for making sure her mother’s light continues to shine.
With deep love and endless gratitude, Miriam Hawley

What a difficult loss yes, as Mosoka suggests, the influence, impact, and guidance will keep all of our collective spirit and work moving forward. Always for the good of others. As Mosoka said, he and I met in her class where we had the pleasure of a profoundly life altering walk and meeting of the minds. Because of this I now and always will work toward carrying this dream forward. Working in Liberia has enabled greater strength and drive, I smile as I write this. All of this,
a gift in my life for certain. Kerrie Flynn

Good morning Sarah. With much love coming from me in Ethiopia to you over the loss of a great Heroine. And to imagine the impact Norma had on her students. One of my classmates in her class started a conversation while returning from a tour Norma took us on. I told her about the NGO [Refuge Place International - Maternal & Child Center] I was starting in Liberia, and my classmate, Kerrie Flyn, says she had done some work in Kenya and will someday come to support my work. As you may know Norma was one of the starting board members. And guess what, Kerrie, who currently resides in Boston, came to visit the clinic this February and help to dedicate our four clinics. She now sits on our board. A decade after that tour by Norma, we are working together in Liberia. Even in her death, she continues to influence our world. Mosoka Fallah, Addis Ababa

Norma, my friend since 2003, it is hard to imagine that you have left us now. 22 years of exchange on all topics of women's health, and especially around pregnancy, birth and the postpartum. After having met Norma during my Sabbatical as a visting scholar at the Boston School of Public Health, I saw her many times both in Germany and in Boston. We became friends almost from the first moment, meeting in Boston at our then home on Cypress St. for long evenings. After driving to the North Coast, exploring nature, we found ourselves downtown Boston for high tea. When we met, Norma had just seen Len Van Gasbek for the first time in many years. Many encounters with both Norma and Len followed, also at the Greenpeace Farm, and in Germany (Osnabrück, Oberurff, Leipzig, even a visit to the alpine mountains), until his death. My son Georg, only 8 years old at the beginning, was also involved in this friendship. What a pleasure it was to have a shop talk with Norma about all the many hours spent on how to improve women's health worldwide, the role of midwives in obstetrics, how women should be supported, and how they can support themselves! I benefited from Norma's wealth of experience; through me, she learned about the developments of the German women's health movement, and in my growing research focus on mother-child health. When I became Rector of Leipzig University, she also accompanied this career step with her advice. We exchanged our botanical explorations, hundreds of flower pictures over the years, until her last days. Again and again she took me to the ocean, we sat on the beach, visited lighthouses, enjoyed lobster rolls. In 2013 we celebrated German Christmas in Leipzig with wax candles and a traditionally decorated Christmas tree, which Norma and Len were very enthusiastic about. She met many of my friends, and I met some of her friends - I saw how many there were on her 90th birthday at the unforgettable online party. As recently as October 2024, Georg, his partner Hannah and I were able to spend wonderful days with her in Boston, a photo shows our trip to the coast. Norma's ability to constantly establish new relationships, to engage with the views of the younger generation, and at the same time to clearly represent her own points of view, will probably not be forgotten by anyone who knew her. She also was a role model in reinventing herself again and again, admirable e.g. how she began teaching at MIT after there were no more courses for her at Harvard. I loved her positive view on the world, her sense of humor. Norma, my friend, you will live on in my heart. Beate Schücking

Norma was an amazing person. I am glad to have known her if only for brief periods. The world has lost a precious soul.
I hope it was a gentle slide for her and that the funeral is all that family and friends can hope for. Thinking of all those who knew and loved her. Lucy Candib

Dearest Sarah, Thank you so much for informing me about Norma’s death. Norma has been very important to me and to us all in the women’s health movement here in Europe. She played a major role in everything we did and we had lots of pleasure visiting here, sharing with her about our projects, meeting in international women and health meetings. Wishing you the strengh to face losing her now. All my love to you, to the family and the close friends.
Yours, Rina Nissim from Geneva

I first met Norma in 2005. While she was away in Maine, I was hired to take care of her cats, George and Boo-boo.
But she was more than just a client—she became my mentor.Norma was a person of love. When I wasn’t feeling well, she offered practical advice about medicine and supplements. One cold Christmas day, I entered her house to feed the cats and found a beautiful gift and a card waiting for me. She cared deeply for her aging cat—giving him fluids at home and pressing veterinarians for better care. When I said, “This is real love,” she replied, “It’s because he loves me.” When a friend of hers fell seriously ill, she transformed their apartment balcony into a little sanctuary for birds.Norma knew so much about animals and plants—of course the birds came in flocks. The last time I saw her was in 2019. I was playing the piano at a funeral, and she came just to hear me. Later, she emailed me saying she couldn’t catch all of my speech and asked me to send the full text—she wanted to read every word. There’s no way to fully express what she did for me.
Thank you, Norma. Noriko Asami

Sad to learn of Norma's passing.Yet her pioneering OBOS work & its considerable on-going impact is her huge legacy.
I well remember the start of OBOS -some authors like Norma were older than me, others were my age. A highly effective collective of feminist activists. Norma's skills, fierce dedication & willingness to be one of those public faces for OBOS was pivotal. Having collaborated with the late Esther Rome on our Menstrual Activism work, I know how well-respected & warmly admired Norma was in the OBOS Collective & far beyond it by the many who met & worked with her. In sisterhood, Emily E. Culpepper

I never knew Norma Swenson, nor did I know her name until today, but what I do know is how many times I read and re-read Our Bodies Ourselves -- both the original copy I bought in high school and the updated version I bought later. There were sections I poured over for information and the validation that women were strong, capable of anything, and in control of their own bodies. When I was in junior high in 1965, my home economics teacher asked us to write an essay about "Why I am glad I'm a girl." I wrote that I wasn't because girls couldn't do many things. My teacher incensed me when she wrote atop my essay, "This will change with time." It did, but not for the reasons she envisioned. It changed because the women who wrote that book showed me how powerful women are. So heartfelt thanks to Norma. I wish I had had the honor of meeting her. Emily Wrubel, Hillsboro, NH

Norma was an amazing woman, an accomplished writer and teacher, a wonderful mother, and a kind and beloved friend. I am Len Van Gaasbeek’s niece. I first met Norma when she and Uncle Len came to stay with us in Florida. My mom was terminally ill at the time and Norma was a wonderful, loving person who had a profound influence on my outlook and on my mom’s life at that time. My mother loved her instantly as did I. I stayed in touch with your mom, and she always encouraged me and made me feel proud. She made a difference in my life and I will miss her. Norma had this incredible way of being fully present and completely interested in whatever was going on in other people’s lives. I will remember her always with love, and will always remember her encouragement to do well in my life. Thank you, Norma, for all of your love and inspiration. Deb Johnson

I was the chair of Maternal and Child Health (MCH) at Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, and then leader of
the program, for about twenty years. A common complaint from those who knew such programs was that there was no "maternal" in maternal and child health. The well-being of women was not discussed. In our program, Norma led the effort to bring women's health (not just maternity) to the forefront of issues affecting children and families. She did it
from a variety of perspectives. As co-author of Our Bodies Ourselves, she repeatedly emphasized the normality of women's health experiences and did much to offset the "obstetric/gynecology" approach (sometimes disdain, a sentiment that I experienced as a medical student) for these issues. With her experience, she brought a needed historical perspective to young students who may not have appreciated the battles that had to be won to get women's health rights recognized. She also brought the perspective of these issues around the world. One of the great recent achievements in the world for MCH has been the substantial decline in overall maternal mortality, a decline based on the work and advocacy by such people as Norma. Her contribution to the education of public health students will be sorely missed. Marie C. McCormick, MD, ScD

So much of my life was shaped because my college roommate had a copy of OBOS. If my college had a nursing program, I probably would have pursued midwifery immediately. Instead, the book helped me inform my thoughts around healthcare and politics. So I sought out midwifery care for the births of my children and when I re-entered the workforce, I trained as a midwife. Norma helped start me down the path to midwifery and healthcare as a form of social justice. Thank you, Norma. We will do our best to keep up the fight without you. Mary Leung

I met Norma in the late 70’s when she was so supportive of my work in adoption. She was eloquent about her experiences of, and with, mother’s who placed/surrendered their babies. She invited me to collaborate on a portion of Our Bodies Ourselves rewrite about adoption. Norma was brilliant, sensitive and sensible. The world has lost a champion in times when they are crucial. She will be missed, and her work will be carried on. Rest in peace and power, Norma. Dr. Joyce Maguire Pavao

Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to meet Norma, but her work and that of the mission of the women’s health collective movement have been a part of my life and my own work almost all my life. I grew up in Boston and found the first edition of Our Bodies, Ourselves as a very young teenager. I still have the original copy all these years later. I just want to say Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Norma, for being such a hugely important and pioneering visionary. Your legacy lives on in our continued struggles for women’s self-empowerment. Especially at this time, when women’s reproductive rights are being eroded, and women and children are under threat of gender-based poverty, violence, and exploitation everywhere, your work still has much to teach the world. Women Unite. Women Unite in Global Feminism. May you rest in peace. You have done your good work. Kind regards, Maria Sophia Quine

The niece of my grandfather, Norma was truly an amazing lady in every sense of the word. In spite of co-authoring the "Our Bodies, Ourselves" book that globally changed medicine from seeing women as just men in drag to actual women with different medical needs, she yet remained one of the most humble, thoughtful, encouraging and kind ladies. Some of my earliest memories involve her taking us to Pier 4 Anthony's or the coast for dinner and countless Reunions and other gatherings where she would gently discuss absolutely anything with total attention and thought. She was never arrogant or patronizing and had the wonderful and extremely rare ability to never pigeonhole anyone based on age or stereotypes. She would tilt her head and engage in my intense conversations, never bringing them down to my "expected age level", and was one of the few adults who LISTENED and didn't impose her own views. Eager to learn from absolutely everyone, even precocious children, she truly believed that every girl had it within them to change the world if they stayed true to themselves and worked to learn. I am so blessed to have had her calming, gentle presence and steady encouragement and to have earned her pride. I have always been, and will continue to be, intensely grateful to be related to Norma, whose beautiful heart and role modeling leaves a legacy of love in my life as I pay it forward to the next generation. Catherine Tomlinson (cousin)

NORMASITA on Mother's day from Elizabeth MacMahon-Herrera. In Mexico, the word "GRANDE" refers to an older person. In the Native American tradition, an older person with wisdom is called an elder. In Colombia, a beloved person is given at the end of their name....sito/a. Normasita mY mas Grande amiga, mY elder. I will miss your presence, the extra-long talks on the phone later at night, where I could share my intimate secrets, new projects, doubts, and injuries. Even when months might interfere with our communication, you never forgot where we left off. Our relationship began over long nights in the BWHBC Watertown office, just you and me, trying to learn how to use a computer. We held our breath, as we were sure we would cause irreparable damage with each command press. When this did not occur, we would erupt with laughter and try one more time before we went home, as you could not leave without one more try at getting it right. One more time to try and get it right was Norma's trademark. I learned that Normasita's warmth, stroke of the hand, calmness, and dedication to all the women who came to our office would soon turn into forever learning opportunities for all of us and, of course, a drive along the Massachusetts coastline to eat fish and chowder. We also often got wherever we were going late because the conversation to wherever we were going required a stop here or there. Norma you helped build the self-esteem of this then-young woman with many doubts who felt so different from the other collective women and indeed was. We were different together. Normasita reminded me of my Colombian family; it's the process—the ride—of getting there, not just the end product or meeting time constraints, thats so valuable and educative. Normasita: “ If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song”. And I to you. - Kahlil Gibran

This is JoAnne Fischer, longtime feminist activist from Philadelphia. I am including a photo of Norma, Judy Norsigian and me at the 10th Anniversary of OBOS in NYC in 1979. I was chairing the National Women's Health Network at the time. Norma was a dear friend and mentor. She was a sounding board and advisor regarding childbirth and parenting and my work at Booth Maternity Center and Maternity Care Coalition. Norma was always engaged whether it be old wisdom or new ideas. She challenged my thinking about whatever was the issue of the day, She and Judy often stayed at our home when traveling in Philadelphia. One memorable time was when I believe Our Bodies, Ourselves received the Women's Way Lucretia Mott Award and we hung out late into the night discussing aging bodies and world issues in our nighties. Norma and I shared a love for global feminism and both attended the UN International Women's Conferences and NGO meetings in Nairobi and Beijing. We worked closely and had great fun hosting an event for global women's health activists sponsored by OBOS and the National Women's Health Network. It is fitting that Norma, childbirth advocate extraordinaire died on Mother's Day ! I will miss her and know that her memory is a blessing. JoAnne Fischer.

My mom gave me a copy of Norma’s book at the age of twelve; no counsel or conversations were had. Being the oldest and only girl in a black family of 6 this was my mother’s way of educating me and hoping I would not become a teen parent like her. I am forever grateful for the book as I learned about my body, sex and so much more. I later became a Health Educator on sexual health. I am certain the book laid the groundwork for my sexual comfort and commitment. Fly free Norma! Thank you. Renee Smith

1994 Chicago MANA [Midwives Alliance of North America] conference with Norma,Valerie Koster, CNM from Community Midwives, and Sheila Kitzinger, UK natural childbirth activist and anthropologist.
Submitted by Mary Sommers.

I have been in an Over 55 Pilates/ Stretch class with Norma for a few years, and despite her being at the top of the age range, Norma was amazingly agile! She often used to show up with a cane, but once down on the mats, could keep up with and even surpass some of us in the stretches. Norma was a force of strength, wisdom, and humor in our class, and I looked forward to seeing her smile and hearing her news before we all got to work. As with many of us, Norma loved to attend our annual neighborhood block party. Those of us who sat around with her always got to talking about many varied and engaging topics: her daughter in Italy, dancing, her public health work, art museums, raising kids in the neighborhood "in the old days," changes in the city of Newton, local politics, and even the book selection in the little free library box on Glenwood. Norma and I happened to meet up at a Juneteenth celebration two years back and spent a lovely morning together talking, listening to Frederick Douglass readings, singing songs along with the student chorus, and doing some spontaneous dancing. Much to my embarrassment, she filmed me with her phone, texted it to me, and asked me to share it with my family. "They will love it!," she laughed. We last saw her in the fall toting a hose around her house as she watered plants, refusing our offer of help, but stopping to share a warm hello and a chat. Norma was always a part of making this neighborhood feel like a welcoming, multigenerational community. She will be missed. neighbor Suzanne

The death of Norma makes me palpably sad. Though we had not seen each other in a number of years- I sought news of her-I felt she was always accessible. I could reach out to her at any needed moment. The movement OBOS reflected and expanded provided a practical and ideological home for many of us, When I heard the news – an image of Norma quietly majestic at the end of a conference table where her's and Judy's counsel was being sought—came to mind. In her intellect, soulfulness, and integrity of character, she provided an anchor and a discreet source of energy. Some specifics:
When I was working at the Population Council and we were concerned about the absolute isolation and lack of attention to the women and girls of West Africa. In addition to some conventional data gathering and analysis about womens’ and girls’ lives - we felt it vital to give space to the collective voice. We funded a OBOS process lead by Codou Bop and Fatow Sow in Senegal. The process – being real and human had all its ragged edges – the beauty and surprise of organic, collective learning. Norma and Judy and OBOS “spirit” fostered connection-being in the same room throwing energy back and forth irresistibly changing everyone in its path-even–maybe especially, “the (well meaning) old white guys". I want to recount an historic event in the early 80s: The Population Council had developed the Norplant contraceptive to provide a long acting alternative to the IUD or sterilization or extended use of estrogen-based oral contraceptives. It comprised 6 rods diffusing Levonorgestrel (a progestin) through silicone tubing whose porous quality allowed a steady “zero order release of the hormonal contraception." It avoided the sudden surge of hormone levels (such as in Depoprovera) and the constant but minimal daily hormone release provided a contraceptive protection state without daily compliance-an advance for many. But the silicone proposed for the first wave production appeared unexpectedly on California's regulatory safety review as a level 3 potential carcinogen. (The highest is level 1. 2 lesser, 3 possible but not validated – a “maybe” ? I proposed a consultation with womens' health advocates to get their views on the substance and relative risks as we faced an imminent “go” /"no-go” decision. This was enthusiastically met with support and curiosity from the Councils’ President – George Zeidenstein, George Brown: Vice president for International Programs, Sheldon Segal, and Wayne Bardin of the Council's Center for Biomedical Research at Rockefeller University. As logical as it seems, now (or did until January of 2025) - I think it was the first formal inclusion of womens’ health advocates in contraceptive development decisions at the Council (and maybe anywhere) at the time. The scientists who had developed Norplant and labored for years to prove safety and effectiveness, and move to scale access, were soliciting the advice and judgement of womens health advocates – before moving ahead with laboriously crafted plans. At that time,there were a group of "population” advocates who evoked the word “feminist” with side glances and some womens' health advocates who blanketly demonized those developing methods and fielding programs. And at that point historically, I'd say there was enough blame to go around—zealotry may energize but it rarely leads. Without dialogue we don’t get anywhere. In the room that day-there was no animosity-there was mutual ‘shyness”, curiosity and respect working as equal professionals, Norma and Judy offered gratitude for the scientific teams’ efforts , welcomed more choices for women AND appreciated the dilemma – no proven harm of the tubing-and the major decision with enormous cost and time implications to be made.
At the end, the decision was made to change the tubing and other thoughts offered – that a next generation of implants- acknowledging the amount of R and D required. Perhaps fewer rods and shorter effectiveness - 3 years rather than five were suggested. And emblazoned in my memory from that day was Normas’ kind, resolute, and majestic gaze. She will be greatly missed but her courageous spirit is sitting there – just over my shoulder. Judith Bruce

I was happy to call Norma my friend. She was fierce in protecting Glenwood/Ridge and often wrote Op-Ed's protecting her neighborhood. She often enlisted me to help. Carrie and I just went to Louise Bruyn's service this Saturday. We are losing an amazing generation of activists! They will be missed. Robert O'Leary

I met Norma in 2024, when many of the OBOS members would gather over Zoom to listen to Paula Doress-Worters read from her memoir-in-progress. Norma attended almost all of our monthly sessions, and was so very generous in sharing her insights and memories of her time in OBOS with Paula, and of the many projects they worked on together. Her presence was so lively and engaged, always, and so full of sharp humor and fierce intelligence. She made time to meet with me privately, as well, sharing photos and more memories, and her wit, passion, and dedication to her OBOS sisters was, and remains, an inspiration and a shining example of how activist communities and cohorts can and should behave toward one another with respect and integrity. I treasure that opportunity I had to meet and work with Norma, brief though they were. In service, and with much love, Tony Amato.

As a confused young teenage girl in the 1970s, there wasn’t many places to find safe places to speak or question or just listen. Lucky for me, my best friend and high school soulmate, Sarah, invited me into her home and that’s where I first encountered Norma. I had never been around a “ mom” who spoke as she did, about feminism and woman’s rights and bodies and lives. It was at once astonishing and exciting. I had a voice in her house, I listened and learned and understood something new and exciting was taking place for women, and I had a seat at the proverbial kitchen table. I still have my original copy of Our bodies Ourselves, signed with love by Norma. Sarah was a devoted daughter and her ability to craft a beautiful unique and inspiring life is a testament to how she was raised. Wendy Ranzato

Norma had a huge influence on my evolution as a feminist activist, writer, and teacher on issues of international women's health, population policy, and reproductive rights. Both she and Judy Norsigian generously helped me in the research and publication of my book Reproductive Rights and Wrongs, connecting me to women's health activists in the U.S. and around the world. The book would have never had the reach it did without Norma's encouragement and wise counsel. Later when we worked together to form the Committee on Women, Population and the Environment (CWPE), Norma taught me how to stay the course while staying true to one's values, and to weather the ups and downs of the political conflicts that inevitably emerge when taking on powerful interests and ideologies. I became a braver person because of Norma, and I knew that when times were tough, I could always find support and sanctuary at BWHBC. Norma was a mentor and a friend and a source of inspiration. I will sorely miss her. All the best, Betsy Hartmann

I have been searching for language to describe a quality that I believe is essential to understanding Norma as an activist, a feminist, a writer, philosopher — yes philosopher. always peeling through layers to get at the meaning of things — and closest friend. It is not just my deepest experience with Norma, but an experience I have heard so, so many other women describe and "observe." While we can speak of Norma's powerful "presence" (noun), this is not it. It is a verb: an action, intention, choice to be fully, totally present to another person, to hear with her whole body and her eyes, to even speak with her eyes....a being present that took precedence over other commitments like “time” or “deadlines.” Nelle Morton used the expression -- "hearing to speech" -- a kind of listening that enables another to find her "voice." Norma listened that way. Norma used to say, "how do I know what I know if there is no one to hear it?” Norma freed up so much "knowing" in so many people. I still hear Norma speaking to a large audience of doctors and medical students, her words spoken with power, dignity and authority: "Feminism is just another name for self-respect.” It was the first time I shared a stage with Norma. I was in awe, but always felt heard. My hope and prayer is that our conversation with Norma will continue even in her profound absence, and that her way of being present to us will inspire how we are with others.
Rosemary represents memory but in many indigenous cultures the plant is used ritually as a way of being “re-membered,” made whole, brought together in community. May we be brought together and made whole through dear Norma’s life, certainly her gift to me. With love and gratitude! Judy Luce

I met Norma last year, in between one historical research project and another. Often, for those of us who are historians like me, it happens that we cross paths with extraordinary people — and Norma was one of them. In moments like this, we almost always end up remembering someone’s academic achievements or their activism, and much less often their human side, as though those titles alone could measure the value of a life. But Norma was, and will remain, above all, a kind and empathetic person. She had a gift for making people laugh while simultaneously catching them off guard with sharp, clever remarks — what she herself called “Jewish humor.” She possessed the rare ability to grasp the political and social significance of people’s personal experiences and turn them into opportunities for genuine connection. She loved to tell me about her Sicilian roots, about how she had tried to reconnect with a part of her family that emigrated from Messina to the United States at the beginning of the century, in that Boston where the Italian American neighborhood gradually became a bridge between different communities. She often paired her personal stories with reflections on the present, but also with questions for me — about my family, my interests, my history. She once told me how sorry she was that I had grown up without grandparents, most of whom passed away before I was born, and even offered that I could call her “grandma” if I ever felt the need. She was deeply supportive of those trying to carve out a space for themselves in the world of cultural work. She had much to say about how our times are leaving less and less room for care and attention toward one another. But there was much more: the exchange of photos of wild turkeys spotted in the outskirts of Boston, to which I could only reply with pictures of cats; her affectionate comments about how life was going on both sides of the ocean; the idea of seeing each other soon to talk, and for her to show me how sweet the raccoons were that would occasionally appear in her backyard. There was so much more, and there would have been more still — but it wasn’t to be.Farewell, nonna. It was a pleasure. Walter Toscano