Over twenty years ago, during my first days at Northwestern University, Richard Kieckhefer suggested I research the Latin Lives of Ireland's female saints for my master's thesis. I was intrigued; I had already chosen the topic for my doctoral dissertation—the Guglielmites, a thirteenth-century Italian heretical sect who believed Christ had come again but this time as a woman, Guglielma of Milan—and had chosen Northwestern especially because of the brilliant work by Richard's wife, Barbara Newman, in this area. Due to Barbara's sabbatical for part of my first year, I worked with Richard for my Master's research—a twist of fate with career-changing implications. I had recently returned from Ireland, where I had earned my Master's in Women’s Studies at Trinity College Dublin but with little formal discussion of Irish saints. The books I had read about medieval Ireland had led me to conclude that its denizens were among the worst misogynists of the lot—and given the degree of medieval misogyny in English and Continental sources with which I was all too familiar, that is saying something. But with Richard’s encouragement and support I tried to bracket my assumptions and read the original sources on their own terms as much as possible.

Exploring medieval Ireland through the primary lens of these women’s Lives, I discovered different gender dynamics than I’d come to expect both in Continental and English medieval sources and from dominant studies of medieval Ireland, and indeed from living in 1990s Ireland. Sexist attitudes occasionally surfaced, but these medieval authors more commonly depicted partnership and cooperation between the sexes and regularly celebrated women for their characters and accomplishments—not in spite of their sex, but sometimes because of it. Reading these sources was like finding a supply of fresh air in a room in which I had been slowly suffocating without realizing it. Just for the suggestion alone I would be eternally grateful to Richard. But he followed his suggestion with meeting with me virtually every day to work through the Latin, discuss my findings, help me piece together the chaotic and often confusing context, and challenge my conclusions; after I submitted the final draft of my thesis, he offered me the highest praise of all, recommending that I publish it.