I always have mixed feelings about the end of Women’s History Month, this year more than most.

As I have for the last six (6!) years, I loved running my series of mini-interviews with people doing interesting work in the field of women’s history. I’ve made friends, added books to my TBR piles, and listened to fascinating podcast episodes. I’ve already started the list for people to invite next year, including a young woman with a huge and fascinating project in the making.

But it’s felt a little different this year. In the past, March has been a time of celebration. People have posted stories about women doing amazing things with a sense of joy and pride. Organizations have hosted Women’s History Month programs.

This year, people have posted the same stories. But there has been an underlying sense of anger and defiance. Programs have been cancelled because organizations were afraid that hosting them would result in their funding being cut. (I am happy to report that none of my programs were cancelled.) Even my little Q & A series was more political than it has been in the past: my people asked me a lot of tough questions about doing this work at this time.

Many of us say each year that we wish we didn’t need Women’s History Month, or Black History Month, or any of the other history months and heritage months that now mark our calendars . That we didn’t have to put up big flashing signs that say “WE WERE THERE, DAMN IT!” once a year to remind people that history should tell everyone’s stories. That we have already integrated those stories into history as we teach and read about it. Today it seems like we are further away from that goal than we were even a year ago.

As far as I’m concerned, that means it’s time to stand on my little online platform, megaphone in hand, and keep telling all of us stories of forgotten people. To be a little louder than I have been in the past. I hope you’ll come along for the ride. We’re all in this together.