There is a growing strength in women but it's in the forehead

Beverly Sills once proclaimed: “There is a growing strength in women, but it’s in the forehead, not the forearm.” At first hearing, her words may seem light, yet they resound with the gravity of centuries. For she does not speak of muscle and sinew, but of intellect, will, and vision. She points to the forehead, the seat of thought and determination, rather than the forearm, the symbol of brute power. In this, she teaches that the rising power of women is not born of physical domination but of wisdom, courage, and clarity of mind.

The ancients themselves hinted at this truth. In the legends of Greece, it was Athena, sprung from the head of Zeus, who embodied both wisdom and warcraft. Unlike Ares, whose strength was in arms and rage, Athena’s power lay in strategy, foresight, and balance. She conquered not by sheer might, but by intellect guided by justice. Beverly Sills, a woman of voice and vision in the modern age, echoes this ancient archetype: that true and enduring strength is not the power of the fist, but the dominion of the mind.

Her words also speak of history’s unfolding. Once, women were judged by the labor of their bodies, confined to toil, their worth measured in how much they could carry, clean, or bear. But as the ages turned, their power grew not in muscle but in influence, in thought, in leadership, in the ability to command with wisdom. From Cleopatra, who ruled Egypt through diplomacy as much as allure, to Queen Elizabeth I, who guided England through storms of war and faith, it was never the forearm but the forehead that sustained their reigns. Their strength was subtle, strategic, and enduring.

We also see this truth in the struggle for women’s rights. Susan B. Anthony and Sojourner Truth did not win battles with swords, but with speeches, with unbreakable persistence, and with an intellect sharpened by justice. They transformed nations not by wielding the forearm but by lifting the forehead high, unbowed, carrying the wisdom and resolve that could not be silenced. Their victories prove that the true revolution of women has never been one of brute force, but of the mind and spirit.

Yet let us not mistake this shift as weakness. To wield the mind is no lesser form of power than to wield the body. Indeed, it is greater. Muscles tire; brute strength fades. But the will, sharpened by wisdom, grows stronger with every trial. A woman who commands her mind and spirit may endure longer than any warrior. Sills’s insight is that the rising tide of women’s influence is not in competing with men’s arms, but in offering a different and equally vital form of strength—born of thought, resilience, and clarity.

The lesson for us is profound: we must broaden our understanding of strength. Let us not reduce it to who can strike harder or lift more. Strength also lives in patience, in wisdom, in the unyielding gaze of the one who endures adversity with head unbowed. For in our own lives, whether man or woman, the forehead must guide the forearm. We must first think, then act. We must first stand firm in conviction, and only then move with power.

So let Beverly Sills’s words be remembered: the growing strength in women is not a mimicry of men’s arms but the blossoming of their own kind of power—quiet yet unstoppable, rooted in thought, sharpened by will, and guided by vision. Let each of us honor this strength, nurture it in ourselves and in others, and remember that the greatest revolutions of history have been won not by the sword but by the mind. For it is the forehead, not the forearm, that shapes the destiny of nations and the future of humanity.