#Standing4BlackGirls 2021 rally: Photo by Isaac Barrera |
By Sikivu Hutchinson
This morning, I listened to an abortion procedure on
NPR and it was a powerful thing. A patient at a Michigan clinic had consented
to having her procedure recorded. She wanted to underscore its life or death
importance in a climate where Michigan citizens will vote next week for an amendment
that would enshrine abortion rights into the state’s Constitution in rebuke of
a 1931
law
whose enforcement would impose a total ban. The recording was also a beautiful f-you to
the white Christian nationalist fascists who want to destroy pregnant peoples’
right to bodily autonomy and economic self-determination. It was a bird flip to
ignorant commentary from a male voter on MSNBC who recently dismissed abortion as
a “luxury” that was far less important than inflation as a midterm election
priority.
To this individual and others like him; repeat after
us—abortion access is not a luxury or a vanity item for suburban white women.
It is lifesaving, it is health care, and, safe, unrestricted access is critical
to the wellbeing and economic justice of Black, Brown and Indigenous
communities. Abortion was ranked as the number two concern among Latinx voters
in a National Association of Latino Elected Officials (NALEO) poll
and is a leading issue among Black voters. Approximately 8 in 10 Black voters disapprove
of the overturning of Roe v. Wade in June.
Since then, women and pregnant folks across the nation
have had to travel from Midwestern and Southern states for abortion care, often
risking their health, jobs, financial status, and sanity. The extreme personal
risk required to travel to sanctuary states for abortion care should be placed
within the context of a nation that has no universal child care provisions, disgraceful
Black maternal mortality rates, skyrocketing child poverty rates (which had
temporarily fallen due to the Child Tax Credit, waylaid by Senator Joe Manchin),
and a massive wealth gap between white, Black, and Latinx families.
A GOP takeover of the House and Senate after the
midterms would deal a devastating blow to human rights in the U.S. Over the
past year, SCOTUS’ singular mission to decimate church/state separation,
abortion rights and worker protections has been one of the most virulent
examples of Trump’s lasting legacy. The GOP threat of a national abortion ban
makes passage of amendments like Michigan’s and California’s
Proposition 1 essential.
Proposition 1 would enshrine the “fundamental right”
to abortion and contraception into the state’s constitution, preventing future
administrations from restricting access to folks seeking reproductive care. It
would further cement California’s status as an abortion and reproductive health
care sanctuary state. Over the past few months, the state has proactively moved
to shield pregnant folks traveling to the state for abortion care from
surveillance and prosecution. It has encumbered funding for more clinics and
services, as well as expanded protections for trans youth.
California Republicans have vilified Proposition 1’s
vagueness about “viability”; claiming that the law would permit late term
abortions well beyond the 24-week viability line delineated by the Supreme
Court under Roe. Doctors have pushed back on these characterizations, arguing
that “viability” is a loaded and essentially meaningless term when considering
the diverse circumstances of an individual pregnancy. In May, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists removed the term
viability from its guidance on abortion. As NPR notes, “The group explained that the
term has become so politicized that it barely has any medical meaning anymore,
and deciding whether and when to have an abortion should be left to the patient
and doctor.”
That said, opponents of
Proposition 1 have invoked the same dangerous anti-abortion propaganda that help
enshrine theocratic power, policing, and control over women, queer folks, their
families, and communities. Fortunately, 71% of California voters support Prop 1
but knowledge about its existence and implications remain limited among the
very Gen Z youth it would provide the most protection for now and in the future.
Indeed, political
education about the importance of unrestricted abortion and reproductive care is
especially critical in a state where the “fundamental right” to abortion may be
solidly protected but access is still inequitable across race and sexuality. For
example, although Black women are more likely to utilize abortion care than non-Black women, Black girls across
sexuality are more likely to experience victim shaming, blaming, intimate
partner violence, gun violence, homelessness, low wage employment, and other physical,
economic, and social pressures when they become pregnant. They are less likely
to have access to a culturally competent medical provider while also
shouldering the burden of being caregivers and breadwinners at an early age.
The high rates of sexual and domestic violence victimization among Black girls make
them especially vulnerable to disparities in access to and information about
birth control, STI and STD prevention resources. Moreover, the prevalence of
domestic and intimate partner violence among Black women overall puts them at
greater risk of maternal and child homicide in situations with abusive partners.
The battle over reproductive rights and reproductive justice is a clear and present danger to BIPOC socioeconomic mobility. For far too long, full bodily autonomy has been the province of an elite few. Elite control of bodily autonomy is the foundation of white wealth in a capitalist, white supremacist, patriarchal, colonialist, heterosexist, and ableist society. Gen Z BIPOC futures depend on dismantling these regimes of power, authority, and control.
In a post-Roe society, state
constitutional amendments for reproductive freedom are a key step towards
reparations.