Hindsight to Foresight: The Motherhood Lesson on Not Repeating Costly Mistakes

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Wisdom is using hindsight to create foresight. When you're not moving in the right direction, you'll inevitably regret where you end up.*

I am attempting to practice this.

To remember the lessons I’ve already earned so I don’t repeat costly dumb mistakes.

In this spirit, one of my best teachers is motherhood.

I am certain—into the marrow of my bones—that I desire for my children (my forever kids even though they’re all suited up in responsible adult jobs with cool kids of their own) a future of opportunity, safety and rockbottom steadiness to handle the challenging waves life inevitably delivers.

I am ferociously invested in their future.

This is absolutely black/white for me. No grey.

The critical question, then, is this: What hindsight lessons can I draw from to put my heart’s yearning for the future into action?

Well, it turns out of course this fervor is not just mine. The powerful, protective drive for a better future is universal, but what I’ve found profoundly inspiring is how this power is magnified the moment mothers and sisters and daughters act together.

Throughout history, women’s collective action has been an unstoppable force that ignites profound political and social change.

The Power of Women’s Mobilization and Protest

Let me start with three examples. The first has an anniversary at the end of this week: October 5.

On October 5, 1789, the Women’s March on Versailles took place. This event was one of the most pivotal moments of the French Revolution.

On this day, thousands of Parisian women, furious over the high price and scarcity of bread, marched from Paris to the Palace of Versailles. Their march was a powerful act of protest, driven by economic desperation and a growing political consciousness. The crowd’s demands quickly escalated from a need for bread to a call for King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette to return to Paris. The march was a defining moment because it successfully forced the royal family to leave their opulent palace and return to Paris, where they would be under the watchful eye of the people.

The event symbolized a massive shift in power, effectively ending the absolute authority of the monarchy and bringing the revolution to a new, more radical phase. It demonstrated the power of the common people, especially women, to directly influence political change and hold their rulers accountable.

A second example: Suffragette movements in both the United Kingdom and the United States organized massive demonstrations to demand the right to vote. In the UK, from 1908 to 1914, the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) led by Emmeline Pankhurst used militant tactics, including large-scale marches, window smashing, and hunger strikes. In the US, suffragists organized events like the 1913 Woman Suffrage Procession in Washington D.C., where thousands of women marched down Pennsylvania Avenue on the day before Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration.

And lastly, on August 9, 1956, in South Africa over 20,000 women of all races marched to the Union Buildings in Pretoria to protest the apartheid government’s Anti-Pass Laws, which restricted the movement of Black people. The women left bundles of petitions at the Prime Minister’s office and stood in silent protest for 30 minutes, a powerful and unified act of defiance. The chant from the protest, “Wathint’Abafazi Wathint’Imbokodo!” (Now you have touched the women, you have struck a rock!), became a symbol of women’s courage in the anti-apartheid struggle.

Women’s Collective Action Drives Political and Social Change

Just as the march on Versailles forced the French monarchy back to Paris, women’s collective action has driven political and social change. I have illustrations from South American countries and Iceland.

During Argentina’s “Dirty War” (1976-1983), thousands of people were forcibly disappeared by the military junta. On April 30, 1977, The Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, a group of mothers whose children were among the disappeared, began to demonstrate in the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires. They wore white headscarves and silently marched in circles, an act of defiance that brought international attention to the human rights abuses of the regime. The protests continued despite intense state repression, including the disappearance and murder of some of the founding members. Even after democracy was restored in 1983, and the “Dirty War” ended, the Mothers did not stop their marches. They continue to protest every Thursday afternoon. Their focus is to demand truth, justice, and accountability for the crimes committed by the former regime.

In Chile, during the Pinochet dictatorship (1973-1990), women’s groups and human rights organizations played a similar role as the women in Argentina, often centered on the issue of the disappeared. In Brazil, women’s movements were also central to the fight for democracy after the 1964 military coup, with women’s groups playing a key role in the return to civilian rule in the 1980s.

And on October 24, 1975, 90 percent of the women in Icelandparticipated in a national strike. They refused to work, cook, clean, or take care of their children, effectively shutting down the country. The purpose was to highlight the indispensable role of women in society and protest wage inequality and the lack of political representation. The protest was a huge success and is widely credited with paving the way for the election of Iceland’s first female president just five years later.

Can Foresight Be Gathered from Past Examples

And yet, does the Women’s March on Versailles—a 236-year-old event celebrating its anniversary this week—or the nearly five-decades-long vigil of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, truly offer a roadmap for our crazily different modern lives?

The answer is yes.

An emphatic, marrow-deep yes.

Our society may be vastly different, but the ferocity of the instinct and desire for a future of safety and opportunity is an unchanging constant.

Our foremothers’ struggles—whether for bread, the vote, or the bodies of their disappeared children—were the expression of this same universal yearning. A heartfelt desire shared by husbands, brothers, sons too.

A collective inheritance and wisdom that crosses divides and finds common ground.

Opportunity, safety, rockbottom steadiness for our future generations. For ourselves.

There are so many things I don’t know, but recognizing this one collective consensus feels like a start.

No regrets.