Introduction

       Teresa A. Meade and Merry E. Wiesner‐Hanks

      When a book project, no matter how long or short in the making, comes to an end, authors confront a final step of choosing an image for the cover, a task that is often pleasant, but also challenging. For this new edition, we wanted the cover to illustrate the long temporal sweep of gender history and the diversity of topics contained in the book, as well as highlight their global reach. The image we selected has just the geographic and chronological breadth we sought. In it a woman in the rural Ghanaian village of Mowire fills buckets of water that she and her daughter, who sits nearby, will carry a long distance. According to Nancy Borowick, who took the photograph, women like this along with “children as young as three or four head to the nearest well multiple times during the day to pump water for their homes for bathing, cooking and drinking.” This scene, repeated in poor countries throughout the world where water is scarce, expensive, and time‐consuming to obtain, conveys the reality that collecting, pumping, hauling, and standing in line for water is gendered work. Historically, women drawing or carrying water appear on early Chinese scrolls, ancient Etruscan jars, and classical Greek vases. Stories from the Bible feature women at wells, while traditional Indian songs and dances portray women getting water from the Ganges. Just enter “women carrying water” in a computer search engine and you can spend hours in front of a screen looking at “Indian Women Carrying Water,” “Bedouin Women Carrying Water,” “Maasai Tribal Women Carrying Water,” and so on. You could even buy enough tote bags and pillow covers with reproductions of classical and contemporary art portraying women toiling with water to fill an entire house.

According to the United Nations, women and girls worldwide spend 200 million hours a day collecting water, time that takes away from caring for their families, attending school, taking care of themselves, or doing anything else. For many women, this can mean as much as five hours daily traveling over rugged terrain transporting water, sometimes in dangerous conditions. Women balance huge jugs on their heads while pregnant and carrying children, or lead youngsters who are themselves loaded down with bottles and cans. Women and children also suffer the direst effects of contaminated water since toxins are absorbed by pregnant women, pass into breast milk and on to infants and young children. This is true throughout the world, from isolated villages in Ethiopia to metropolitan cities such as Flint, Michigan. But women are also fighting for clean water: women protested contaminated city water in Flint, and as Jocelyn Olcott explains in her chapter in this volume, Aymara women led the fight against the Bolivian government’s privatization of the water system and sale of water rights to the US‐based Bechtel Corporation in 1997. Mexican women organized campaigns to bring clean water to cities and villages, a basic human need which the outbreak of the COVID‐19 pandemic – in which handwashing is the most important precaution – made even more evident. On the cover of this book an African woman’s muscles strain as she fills multiple buckets at a communal well, a task representative of gendered labor for all time. But she also suggests an area in which women are working toward a different future, as they do in many chapters in this book.

      We could have chosen any number of images that point to the past, present, and future of gender because, perhaps even more than when the first edition appeared a decade ago, gender is everywhere on the international stage. As chapters by Patricia Acerbi, Barbara Winslow, Charles Sowerwine, Patricia Grimshaw, and others in this book point out, feminism has grown in strength in many quarters of the world. It is challenging male authority on the playing field, in the courts, in entertainment and the media, and in the upper echelons of power, as women seek gender equality. The largest protest demonstration in the history of the world, the Women’s March of 2017, brought millions into the streets, while the spread of #MeToo has empowered women in many fields. On the other hand, as many of our authors note, growing nativist and nationalist movements across the globe have also unveiled the enduring strength of misogyny, especially as it intersects with racism. The wage gap persists, and only a small percentage of women reach top leadership positions in government and business. Even the impact of the 2020 worldwide pandemic has been shaped by gender: incidents of domestic violence against women and children rose precipitously in households where multiple family members were confined for weeks to prevent the spread of contagion; workers in hospitals, nursing homes, and other care facilities most at risk of exposure to the virus were – and are – disproportionately female; women also predominate in the low‐wage service jobs that are impossible to do from home or while maintaining the “social distancing” that the COVID‐19 pandemic requires. Female national leaders, including New Zealand’s Jacinda Ardern, Germany’s Angela Merkel, Finland’s Sanna Marin, and Taiwan’s Tsai Ing‐wen, also did better than their male counterparts at fighting the virus, with much lower death rates and better infection control. The countries with the highest death rates were all led by authoritarian men more concerned with projecting their masculinity than protecting public health.

The prominence of gender in historical scholarship matches its visibility on the world political stage. More than thirty years ago Joan Wallach Scott argued in the pages of the American Historical Review that history was enacted on the “field of gender.” Scott defined gender as “a social category imposed on a sexed body,” and stated, in a line that has since been quoted by scholars in many fields, that “gender is a primary way of signifying relations of power.”¹ Scott later explained that she had originally wanted to pose the salience of gender to historical analysis as a question, but the editors of the American Historical Review would not allow questions in article titles.² In the decades since her article appeared, that salience has become clear. Gender – understood as a culturally constructed, historically changing, and often unstable, system of differences – has become a standard category of historical analysis for many younger historians, and a fair share of older ones as well. The women’s history on which gender analysis was initially based has continued to flourish and expand.

      What has also happened in the last thirty years is that historical gender analysis and women’s history have increasingly become international enterprises, in terms of both the focus of scholarship and the scholars involved. While the footnotes in Scott’s article – and most other theoretical discussions of gender from the 1980s – were numerous and wide‐ranging, almost all of them referred to studies of the United States or Europe. Since then, new research has begun to challenge understandings of gender derived primarily from the Western experience, and examine the role of women and of gender in global processes. Because of this, we decided to slightly retitle this second edition, adding Global and making it A Companion to Global Gender History.

      For this second edition, every chapter has been updated since the first edition, along with the inclusion of seven new authors and seven completely new chapters reflecting topics that have becoming increasingly important in the last decade, including material culture, science, and global imperialism. Written by authors from across the English‐speaking world, the book includes a diversity of viewpoints and reflects questions that have been explored in different cultural and historiographic traditions, thus providing an overview of gender history worldwide. We have attempted to decenter the West, locating Western Europe and North America as simply one of many social formations within a gendered world history that