An inspiring manifesto from philanthropist and advocate Gisele Barreto Fetterman that explores her surprising source of power and strength—vulnerability—and how we can all harness it to effect meaningful change.
As a society, we shy away from public expressions of vulnerability, mistaking it for weakness or a lack of grit. To even talk about crying, much less shed tears publicly, is seen as shameful or cringeworthy. But for Gisele Barreto Fetterman, accessibility advocate and wife of Senator John Fetterman, showing strong emotions has always been her default—at events, during speeches, in her car or even at the grocery store. Friends and family warned Gisele that the world would eat her alive if she didn’t toughen up. But over the years Fetterman came to a her emotional tenderness was not her downfall, but her strength—one that could be incorporated into her leadership style to show a different way to create true social and cultural change.
In Radical Tenderness, Gisele Barreto Fetterman courageously shares her story of power through vulnerability—from her childhood survival years as a Brazilian-American undocumented immigrant, to the prejudice she experienced in corporate and political settings, to her hardships and resilience stepping into her husband’s role when he suffered a stroke. Through it all Gisele learned that leading with tenderness—whether at the office, as a boss, or as a human being—can help us face challenges in a healthier, more authentic way, and in turn guides others to do the same.
Ultimately, Gisele redefines strength and leadership for our modern times, presenting tools for surviving and thriving in a world designed to wreck the tender-hearted. Because by embracing those emotions publicly—laughter, vulnerability, and, yes, even tears—we not only honor ourselves but open a path toward changing the world.
Absolutely insane that this book is out and the author is pictured with a war criminal— within the time frame she’d be writing the book.
While I enjoy the ideas in this book, knowing how the author (who is very much in the public eye) lives her life and smiles beside a man who is responsible for the death of thousands of civilians — it’s hypocritical and delusional.
"Rots o ruck " Dear Senator John Fetterman's wife, You have now written a book under the premise that vulnerability and emotion are powerful tools for change. That’s a noble concept, but I ask you: where is the emotional recognition for the Palestinian families bombed while collecting food? For the mothers in Pennsylvania who now fear losing healthcare and food for their children? For the veterans struggling in silence while calls to your husband's office go unanswered (& only available 9am and cut off at 4:30pm). There’s an ethical disconnect between advocating radical tenderness as a public persona and participating—through silence or complicity—in policies and decisions that cause harm. You are enjoying the visibility and privileges of your position. A visit to Mar-a-Lago, praise for elite social circles like the Senators' wives, and now a platformed book tour—these are not the lived realities of most Pennsylvanians. Show me the radical tenderness. We are not asking for performative empathy. We are asking for effective, responsive, and humane leadership. If Senator Fetterman cannot do the job—due to health, inability, or disinterest—he should step down. Dignity would lie in recognizing limits, not clinging to power while constituents suffer. You say you want to change the world through tenderness. I ask that you start by facing the truth: our state deserves representation that listens, that shows up, that acts with integrity. If you are sincere about your values, then help your husband find the strength to put the people first—even if that means stepping aside.
Fantastic and amazing. This woman is beyond inspiring. She has taken action in so many ways to make this world just a little bit more tender. I share her vision for the future our children could inhabit, and I want to do cool things like her (the free store, the women entrepreneurs mall, trading guns for welding classes...) when I grow up. ❤️
Touching memoir outlining an alternative world view revolving around being kind and open always. Gisele does a beautiful job highlighting the power of unabashed vulnerability and the impact a single bright light can have in a world that is too often dim.
I plucked this from the new book display at the library because the title appealed to me. When I realized the author is the wife of Senator John Fetterman of Pennsylvania, with whom I disagree on many issues, I wasn't sure what to expect. I found I quite like, however, her way of looking at the world and her role in it, her emphasis on living her days looking for opportunities to be of service. Living a life of tenderness is one of my goals, too.
Favorite quotes:
"People have been telling me to fight back for my whole life. But I don't need to fight. I don't need to be right. I have found a different approach, one that is authentic to me and that often leads to remarkable results. I show my feelings. I express my vulnerabilities. I'm not afraid to be soft, even tender, in the face of anger and hostility. But that's because to me, exposing this side of myself isn't weakness. It's my secret strength. Maybe even a form of rebellion." pp 4-5
"I am suggesting we learn to sit with hard things, adapt when needed, and spread tenderness in a world that would have us remain hidden and disconnected. It takes opnness and strength to feel the sometimes-difficult emotions that so many of us tamp down each and every day." p 7
"Being an immigrant means living with a broken heart; rarely will everyone you love be together at the same time." p 21
Speaking of Fred Rogers she said, "He was one of my first models for leading a tender life." p 33
"There are few people or characters who so completely embody a spirit of tenderness and vulnerability the way Mr. Rogers did. And in moments of crisis... it was these traits that so many in our country turned to him to model." p 36
"I believe it's important to take advantage of moments as they come. There is so much about our lives that we eventually forget; entire years pass us by and collapse into a few sentences. But every moment we make special we carry with us. All we have are those moments." p 80 When I first read this section I misread "special" as "spiritual." That works, too!
"For me, listening to my intuition meant being guided by curiosity rather than fear. I embrace the fact that, no matter how much we plan, the future is uncertain for all of us. And what remains, what I continue to believe is important, are my relationships with and contributions toward other people. So long as I keep these values near, any choice I make will be the right choice. No matter where I am or what I'm doing, I return to my vision for the tender world I would like to see." p 84
"There is almost always a point of connection when you meet someone new, even if your politics are different, even if you were born in different countries or worship gods with different names. You just have to be patient and open-minded enough to find it. I don't limit my friendships or connections to people who agree with me in every way. That would be a lonely way to live, and the reality is that you will never find a person who does." p 90
"For me, crying, when it does happen, is the moment of silence I use to redirect my thinking. It's when I can myself, What part did I have in this? How much is mine to carry? It is both a release and a reset - a moment to process what happened and designate appropriate responsibility. Because ultimately, someone else's actions belong to them alone." p 120
in Chapter 5, "Barriers to Tenderness," there's a section entitled "Letting People Go" that is excellent. I'd like to copy the four-and-a-half pages into this review but will photocopy them and set them aside to read again and again.
"For too long, what we have been taught is not tenderness and love but assimilation. We are meant to be quiet and absorb or accept the world's injustices. For women and people of color, in particular, expressions of vulnerablity can lead to further maginalization or misunderstanding. The fear that we will be ridiculed, shamed, or quieted keeps us in a state of resigned or resentful acceptance of whatever the world throws at us." p 205
GBFetterman has written a book championing vulnerability and tenderness as forces for change. It's an appealing message. But I'm compelled to ask: where is that tenderness when it matters most? Where is it for Palestinian families killed while seeking food? For Pennsylvania mothers terrified of losing healthcare and nutrition assistance for their children? For veterans whose calls to your husband's office go unanswered—during the narrow window of 9 AM to 4:30 PM when staff even pick up the phone? There's a troubling gap between advocating "radical tenderness" as a brand and the reality of political choices made through action or silence. You enjoy considerable visibility and privilege from your position: visits to Mar-a-Lago, praise for exclusive circles like the Senate spouses' club, and now a platform for a book tour. These experiences bear little resemblance to the lives of most Pennsylvanians. We're not asking for performative empathy or carefully crafted social media posts. We're asking for responsive, effective, humane leadership. If Senator Fetterman is unable to fulfill his duties—whether due to health challenges, capacity issues, or shifting priorities—the dignified path would be to acknowledge those limitations rather than maintain a grip on power while constituents are left without adequate representation. You say you want to change the world through tenderness. Then start by confronting an uncomfortable truth: Pennsylvania deserves a senator who listens, who shows up, who acts with integrity. If your values are genuine, help your husband make the choice that puts the people first—even if that means stepping aside. Show us the radical tenderness. Make it real
I was fortunate to receive an early copy of Radical Tenderness through NetGalley, and I’m so glad I did. This book reads more like a memoir than a traditional autobiography—intimate, emotional, and centered around key experiences that shaped the author’s identity and worldview.
Gisele Baretto Fetterman's story is deeply moving. She offers a powerful narrative about her family’s immigration journey to the United States, sharing the circumstances that brought them here and the challenges they faced along the way. Her reflections are honest and vulnerable, and they offer a vital perspective for readers who may not have personal experience with immigration.
What stood out most to me was the way Gisele explores both the beauty of her culture and the pain of navigating a new world as a young person. She writes with a clarity that’s at once heartwarming and eye-opening. Through her stories, she gently invites readers to consider what it means to stay soft and tender in a world that often demands hardness.
Radical Tenderness is not just a personal account—it’s a reminder of our shared humanity. Gisele's voice is a welcome one, and I’m grateful to have read her work. Highly recommended for readers who appreciate memoirs that weave cultural reflection, emotional depth, and a touch of poetic resilience.
I picked up Radical Tenderness without knowing much about Gisele Barreto Fetterman, and while the book makes some thoughtful points about vulnerability and emotional openness, I found myself increasingly uneasy with its framing. The argument that tenderness can be a source of strength is not a new one, and while it’s presented earnestly, it often feels secondary to the author’s personal narrative.
As the memoir unfolds, it becomes difficult to separate the message from its political context. Much of the book reads as an attempt to contextualize—or at times justify—recent public behavior by both the author and her husband. While Barreto Fetterman describes genuine hardship, resilience, and advocacy work, the timing and tone made it hard for me not to read this as image management rather than reflection. Vulnerability, here, often feels curated.
There are undeniably commendable actions described, particularly in her community work and advocacy, but packaging those efforts into a book left me conflicted. Ultimately, Radical Tenderness reads more as an autobiography than the manifesto it claims to be. Readers looking for a deeper, more challenging exploration of vulnerability as a radical practice may come away wanting more.
i wanted to leave a review that isn't simply about the author's politics, because that's what i'm seeing a lot of. so here it goes. i love the idea of this book, but it is more of an autobiography. i kept waiting for it to get more deeply into the subject presented on the cover - it never did. there are certainly some inspiring parts to the book, some i read more than once, even, however, it should've been marketed differently.
Her life story is remarkable, and at times, seemed too much so? Almost too perfect in the way things turned out and how she parents and runs her life as someone who care deeply about her community and people. But I respect it and think the purpose of this book was clear, how tenderness and compassion can go way farther than hate and discord.
I wanted to like it but the writing was not tight and felt self help preachy although nice to read about someone undocumented who had tenderness in face of bigotry and confidence to move forward with “tenderness.”