My name is Daizha Brown, representing myself. I am 21 years old and graduated from Colorado State University with a degree in Political Science. I am here today to offer my testimony in hopes that you all, as representatives of the masses, can support the Reproductive Health Equity Act. As a young adult, this bill is necessary to ensure that all peoples personal agency over their bodies, their temples, are protected unconditionally and without government interference.

During my time in college, I worked as a campus organizer for the Brazen Project, a group on campus who advocated boldly and without shame to end abortion stigma through storytelling and educating. On a weekly basis, I spoke with people who had abortions to understand their stories and discuss the need for equitable and accessible reproductive healthcare. I remember hearing countless stories of these individuals being judged, disowned by family & friends or even considering harming themselves because of the constant ridicule they received for making a decision that was best for them and their particular circumstances. And unfortunately, I was once that person who judged and made assumptions about people who chose to have abortions too. I was only ignorant and unaware of other people’s realities. It wasn’t until I learned that many of the women closest to me had to make that decision in secrecy and without support that I then realized the importance of giving folks the choice to make the decision for themselves.

1 in 4 women will have an abortion and more than that will face the choice of whether to give birth or not. People deserve to make that choice for themselves. Honestly, the reality of it all is that even if abortion rights are jeopardized or criminalized, people will still need them. Our state should protect people’s decisions concerning their bodies and assure that there are safe and accessible healthcare services available to them. And people in Colorado agree, especially young people, as they have time and time again shown up in support of access to abortion. It’s time that we now listen and take action.

I think it is imperative that these individuals have the support of the state legislature to back them in any decision they make concerning the autonomy of their own bodies. For that reason, I’m asking that you ensure that those who have had abortions and those who will have abortions feel supported in the decision that is in their best interest for their lives by voting YES on HB1279.

It’s Time to Listen to Young People and Protect Abortion Access was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

My mom had an abortion when she was 21. It was 1979, and following Roe v Wade, abortions were easier to access than they ever had been before. But more notably, abortions held a harsh stigma that prevented many women from sharing their experiences, making that decision isolating and comfortless. There was even more anti-abortion rhetoric and violence in our societies culture than there is today. When I was old enough to understand, my mom told me her story. Abortion has never been stigmatized in my household. Instead my mom used her story to help my sister and I understand how critical access to abortion is. Learning about abortion from a young age shaped the way I viewed healthcare and bodily autonomy. My mom raised us to understand that her life would have been drastically different if she hadn’t gotten the procedure she needed at the time.

If my mom hadn’t had that abortion 41 years ago, my sister and I wouldn’t be here. It’s a bizarre feeling, knowing that if your parents had changed a single choice, you wouldn’t exist. My mom did what was best for her and her future family, and she hasn’t spent a single day regretting it. She made a choice — a choice that was right for her, a choice that came from her being unable to be a parent during that time, a choice that she knows she was lucky to be able to make. Not everyone has access to that option and not everyone is able to make the choices that are best for themselves and their families. A person should be free to make a choice about their own body, when they are the only one who has to live with that decision.

Abortions are normal, and they are a necessary part of reproductive health care and bodily autonomy, but stigma goes a long way in making abortions inaccessible. We grow up in a society that is so dominated by extreme anti-abortion perspectives, it’s caused conversations around abortion to be considered taboo. Informed education about abortions has remained limited. Despite one in four women having an abortion at some point in their lives, discussions in our communities, whether it be in the classroom or the media, are still not often seen. People are scared to share their personal experiences because of the stigma surrounding abortion, only further solidifying it as a taboo topic.

My mom never felt guilt after her abortion, but she did feel isolation and loneliness because of the stigma around her decision. Despite having her mother there at her side, she still felt unable to talk about the choice she made with those around her. There are still very few people that my mom has ever told about her experience. Although her story was never a secret to my sister and I — we always had an underlying understanding of the shame that unjustly came from those who were supposedly “pro-life”. Even now, all these years later, my mom feels no shame for the choice she made, but she fears those who would attack her for that decision. She’s still hesitant to share her story because of people who will attempt to admonish her for her choice. People should be free to make the decisions they want about their own body without judgment and reproach.

Negative attitudes and beliefs around abortion act as direct barriers not only to those seeking abortions, but to abortion providers, reproductive rights advocates, and our communities. Our society suffers when people face a lack of access to essential healthcare. It pushes people further into poverty, particularly those from already vulnerable marginalized and poor communities. So, let’s start talking about abortion. Incorporate it into required sex eduction throughout middle and high schools, normalize realistic representations of abortion in the media, and continue sharing our stories, because those stories are powerful. Your story, your friend’s story, my mom’s story — they show us that abortion is normal, that it’s okay, that your choice is your choice, and no one else’s opinions or beliefs should ever matter in your decision.

Brazen’s TEA Dialogues: My Mom’s Abortion Allowed Her to Be a Better Parent was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Anti-fat bias shows up in many different areas of our society. “Victoria’s Secret models average in at size 4, while the average American population is wearing a size 16–18. Whether it’s the fat, funny sidekick friend, who somehow never finds love, or the straight-up portrayal of big bodies as disgusting, pop culture constantly shames and belittles plus-sized bodies. There is an institutional bias against bigger people that creates and perpetuates stigmas against anyone over a deemed “desirable size” This is an institutional bias born out of European colonialism and anti-Blackness. At every turn, the degradation of large bodies, and the romanticization of diet culture is shoved down the throats of consumers. This hate and obsession with devaluing bigger bodies does not end with low self-esteem for fat people, but it can actually affect the quality of the healthcare they receive.

It is well known that anti-fat bias has made a name for itself in healthcare. In the past, there has been a lack of medical attention and research focused on bigger people. Instead, being heavy has been written off as generally unhealthy. Many people considered “overweight” have found that their doctors don’t listen to their concerns about their health. Instead, they are met with oversimplified advice to “lose weight and it will get better,” dismissing potentially serious problems. Some people eventually avoid seeing a doctor due to the experience of feeling “so readily disregarded, so lazily misled, and still feeling so ashamed.” Anti-fat bias within healthcare institutions has led to dangerous situations, including undiagnosed or misdiagnosed medical conditions.

Possibly the most underrated threat to plus-size people is how anti-fat bias affects reproductive healthcare. The research needed to provide plus-sized people with the correct information they need has been pushed off for years and the little research available is often ignored. Either way, the little data that there is on reproductive care for people who are not considered thin or “normal” weight is not enough to provide accurate care. This is concerning considering that in the United States alone, “roughly two out of three U.S. adults are overweight or obese (69 percent) and one out of three are obese (36 percent)”, data also shows that “if U.S. trends continue unabated, by 2030, estimates predict that roughly half of all men and women will be obese”. All of these bigger people deserve to have access to reproductive healthcare. Fat people should be able to trust their doctors when it comes to their personal health.

When looking specifically at reproductive healthcare, it is easy to see that larger bodies are treated as an afterthought. Anti-fat bias in reproductive healthcare is most prevalent when it comes to birth control and emergency contraceptives, like Plan B. According to a study done on Obesity and hormonal contraceptive efficacy, oral contraceptives, and contraceptive patches have been shown to have increased failure rates in people with higher BMIs. This means bigger people taking contraceptives are at a higher risk of unplanned pregnancy compared to thin people. This is because these birth control methods were not designed with big bodies in mind. When it comes to emergency contraceptives, data has shown that there is a weight limit. It has been found that for women* who weigh over 155 pounds, Plan B may not work — even though the average weight for women is much higher than 155 pounds. This information, however, is not common knowledge among patients or prescribers and the FDA hasn’t made any changes to Plan B or its label prescription recommendations. There is also another emergency contraceptive called Ella but it has a 195-pound weight limit, which is similarly missing on the label, and you need a prescription for Ella emergency contraception, making it inaccessible for minors and those without health insurance. This means that heavier people are using contraceptives with the belief that they are equally protected. This explains why, the risk for unplanned pregnancy is 3 times higher for people who are heavier when compared to people who are thinner and that risk was even higher when it came to Plan B.

Unplanned pregnancy means a higher demand for abortions. This is why, yet again, the complete legalization of abortion is needed in the United States. Abortion is a reproductive health service that bigger-bodied birthing people, like all other birthing people, may have to rely on. Since the passage of Roe v Wade, anti-abortion lawmakers across the United States have attempted to pass restrictive abortions bans, like Texas’ recent six-week abortion ban. These bans perpetuate the stigma surrounding abortion, only adding to the shame that bigger people feel when they interact with reproductive healthcare. Abortion access is a crisis that affects too many people nationwide and bigger-bodied people are no exception. Anyone who is seeking an abortion should have complete autonomy over their body and be able to obtain an abortion with dignity and respect.

Anti-fat bias causes an enormous amount of issues for plus-sized people when it comes to reproductive rights. The rhetoric perpetuated by pop culture that bigger bodies are undesirable, unhealthy, and unworthy significantly contributes to the abuse of plus-size people. This leads to mistreatment, misdiagnosis, and misinformation when it comes to contraceptives and protecting against unplanned pregnancy for fat people. That, in turn, means more fat people turning to abortion and having to face many obstacles that restrictive abortion laws bring. Bigger people are habitually left feeling invisible and unheard in regards to their reproductive rights. This is due to a lack of attention, care, and research spent on anyone who is not considered a “healthy” weight. Anti-fat bias shows up in reproductive healthcare and it can no longer be ignored because so many plus-sized people are at risk.

*Not just women have the ability to get pregnant and need access to Plan B, but usually, only cis men and women are included in reproductive health studies, such as this one.

How Anti-Fat Bias Shows Up in Reproductive Healthcare was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

On September 1st, 2021 a ban on abortions after 6 weeks took effect in Texas when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 5-4 to not block the ban. This, like all abortion bans, was an act of white supremacy.

Before I tackle why abortion bans are racist, I want to take us back in history to explore the white supremacist roots of the anti-abortion movement. Prior to the Civil War, the majority of reproductive health care was performed by Black and Indigenous women. During the war, the enslavement of Black folks provided a safety net in terms of livelihood for white men. After chattel slavery ended, white men in obstetrics (childbirth) saw Black female midwives as a threat to the profession. This led to anti-midwife sentiment and lobbying campaigns to ban midwifery, which included abortion care. Not only did this turn reproductive health care for birthing people into a cis-male industry entrenched in sexism; it also pushed qualified Black women out of the medical field. (Ya know, because white men could never let Black women hold the power and receive the credit they so rightfully deserve, for fear of the world finding out that race and gender are constructs created to uphold white male dominance.) During this time, Black folks were also barred from American hospitals, as practitioners and patients, which contributes to the maternal death rate for Black women — to this day, the death rate is 4 times higher for Black women than that for white women. Giving birth presents as a legitimate and potential death sentence for Black folks.

So, how are abortion bans adding to this legacy of white supremacy and why is this particular ban unique in its efforts? I’m so glad you asked.

Transportation, time, and money are already enormous burdens, and abortion bans only exasperate that. This is especially true for poor and working-class Black and Brown folks. When the government makes it so that you have to travel out of state to access abortion care, it then becomes nearly impossible to access a safe abortion if you don’t have a car, can’t take time off work, and/or don’t have money for bus fare, gas, or a place to stay.

A piece of this ban that we have yet to see legislated before is the $10,000 bounty any ol’ person can put on someone that they suspect is getting an abortion, and on anyone that helps that person get an abortion — and “help” goes beyond the abortion practitioner; if you’re an Uber driver taking someone to a clinic to get an abortion, you could also be fined. The addition of financial penalties for those seeking an abortion and the involvement of law enforcement in this process makes this ban even more racist than the average ban. This type of policing instills a sense of fear in everyone and creates a larger divide between the “good” folks and the “bad” folks. Yet again, white supremacy.

It’s no surprise then that the primary sponsors of this bill also sponsored bills that contribute to voter suppression, a sports ban for trans students, and a bill that increased funding for anti-immigration initiatives, all issues also rooted in white supremacy.

And so here we are again. Another incident of this country’s never-ending racist policies and actions that disproportionately harm Black and Brown folks. I’m not going to sit here and play the “how did this happen?” card, or the “I’m shocked” card. This, unfortunately, is not surprising. Instead, I very seriously implore you to get angry about this. To use your anger to speak out against it, to vote against it, and to use your money (if you have it) to help folks in Texas and across the country, access abortion, even with this ban in place.

The New Abortion Ban Is White Supremacy in Action was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Silen Wellington (they/he)

I t was 2017. Shivering in the brisk Colorado spring, I lingered outside the glass doors of the health care clinic, clutching a printed letter in my hand as it crumpled in the breeze.

“Desire to be less feminine . . . a 21-year-old biological female . . . androgynous identity . . . significant mind/body conflict . . . genderqueer, nonbinary, demiboy . . . psychologically ready to proceed with hormone therapy,” the letter read, stamped with the address of my therapist’s office.

This is the letter that would allow me to get a prescription for testosterone.

I was tired of being misgendered, tired of avoiding singing, tired of the gravity of my menstrual cycle. I wanted my gender dysphoria to lessen, I wanted to feel less incongruence between my body and my identity, and I wanted to feel that gritty undercurrent of anxiety and nausea go away.

Even with this conviction though, I was nervous. I didn’t know I was trans until I was 19, and I didn’t want to look like a cisgender man. Would my doctor understand? Would they still write me a prescription?

With my heart leaping out of my chest, I entered the clinic.

Reproductive justice, a term coined by a term coined by the Black women who started SisterSong, means bodily autonomy, which includes having access to reproductive health care, like contraception, abortion, HIV care, pregnancy care, and more. It also includes trans-related health care, like getting access to the hormones we need with contraceptive options that will work for us and our bodies. Far too often, trans people face scrutiny and barriers to getting the health care they need.

I was among the lucky ones — I was able to access T (testosterone) fairly easily and had the medical insurance and financial resources to pay for it, which came out to less than $50 a month for my appointments and testosterone. This story would be very different without insurance, or if I was uncomfortable with needles and had to access any other type of T besides intramuscular needle injections (the most common type of T in the US). I have many friends who have had to go off T or delayed pursuing it because of needle-phobias, since other forms of testosterone (topical or patches) are often not covered by insurance. Some of my friends were quoted $600 a month to pay for non-injectable T and have resigned themselves to not pursuing the care they need.

Though I was terrified for my doctor’s visit, I could be honest about the nonbinary aspects of my gender experience, and advocate for the dose of T that I thought would be best for me. This ability to self-advocate has not always been the case when it comes to trans-related health care, especially for Black people, Indigenous people, and other People of Color who are disproportionately silenced and discriminated against in health care.

For decades, trans people seeking any form of medical transition in the United States had to conform to a very specific narrative and patients had to jump through medical hoops to receive the care they needed. Before pursuing transition, trans folks had to say they were “trapped in the wrong body,” and that they identified as heterosexual, or run the risk of being denied care. Many had to undergo a “Real Life Test” to prove they could live as the “other gender” and be economically productive before pursuing medical transition.

Today, trans adults in the US don’t usually have to conform to this binary, heteronormative narrative to receive hormone treatment/therapy, but seeking other forms of medical transition beyond this can often be difficult and unaffordable. Trans people have faced resistance, dismissal, and even outright refusal from doctors when pursuing a hysterectomy, because they were “understood as still being of reproductive age.”

According to One Colorado’s 2018 survey, in Colorado, 34% of respondents reported being denied LGBTQ+ medical services, like HIV medications, hormones, HPV vaccines, and other gender-affirming care. Only 52% of respondents reported having an LGBTQ+ competent primary health care provider, with LGBTQ+ competent care defined as care that “addresses the unique experiences of LGBTQ people and implements practices that affirm and respect them.” Trans Coloradans are 3 times more likely to delay health care because of cost than their cisgender peers, with 23% of trans respondents reporting having to pay more than $20,000 out-of-pocket for trans-related health care.

When we are denied health care, when our providers are ignorant or overtly discriminatory, when the cost to get our health care is exorbitantly high, pieces of our bodily autonomy get taken away. Reproductive justice must include advocating for trans-related health care, so we can have access to reproductive care without unnecessary gatekeeping and without providers scrutinizing or dictating our decisions. Reproductive justice means autonomy over my trans body.

Reproductive Justice Means Autonomy Over My Trans Body was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The Reproductive Rights Movement has been on the defense for quite some time now. Most of our efforts and resources have gone to myth-busting, re-education, and explaining that “no we aren’t,” “that’s not what this is,” and “that’s not what we do.” But coming around the bend, it seems that reproductive rights are beginning to take an offensive position in the political arena. The work we put in to defend the movement from external forces cannot be counted as the same work people need to do in self-reflection and looking inwards of a movement. To take an effective and sustainable offensive approach demands an intentional learning process to acknowledge and dismantle the prominent history and continued presence of white supremacy, ableism, transphobia, classism, and other products of colonialism that reproductive politics carries with it.

We have a responsibility, as advocates of reproductive rights, to be intentional in our rhetoric and our work to not reproduce or strengthen systems of oppression and violence. Part of the learning process of being on the offense is learning not to erase trans, non-binary, disabled, and BIPOC experiences within abortion. Especially when the US and its institutions have actively worked to erase and oppress folks that hold these identities, an inclusive, representative, sustainable, and equitable offensive stance may not happen without effort when the movement decides to take action. We cannot just center upper and middle class, cis, able-bodied, white women in abortion politics and reproductive rights.

As a white, cis, female-presenting, able-bodied individual working in reproductive rights, it is my responsibility to not reproduce systems of oppression and marginalization when I advocate for reproductive rights issues, such as abortion access. I move forward working to learn about and challenge my inherent biases and assumptions that come with being socialized in a colonial culture. It is relevant in every aspect of how I apply myself to this cause: My actions, my words, my agenda, my efforts, energies, and resources all need to be crafted with intention. And it is obviously something I am continually learning how to do. There are times I jump into conversation or action with the understanding that my experience is widely shared, but there are also the times I step back, reflect on those experiences and work to do better. Saying “I don’t get it” though, is not an option. If you don’t get it, how are you going to change that? We have this misunderstanding that one person is supposed to have the correct answers to everything. You can acknowledge you don’t know, but you can’t perpetually sit in the space of not knowing.

I call to all of those invested in reproductive rights to look inside yourself and truly analyze your position in the movement. How are you working to inform and shape your understanding of the necessity and value of reproductive rights? How are you intentionally working to de-center mainstream perspectives and re-center marginalized communities as the core of the reproductive rights agenda? How are you holding yourself and your peers accountable towards creating an equal, equitable, and sustainable approach towards investing in reproductive rights for folks?

On the Offense was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Hannah White (she/her), Letty Torres (she/her), and Max Mapes (they/them)

Given the overwhelming victory against the abortion ban on the Colorado ballot last year, you might have seen pro-abortion activists breathe a collective sigh of relief or let their guard down in the fight for legal abortion. But there’s still uncertainty surrounding abortion access on the federal level as a consequence of Justice Amy Coney Barrett’s confirmation this past October. Already this year, the reproductive justice movement has seen a disappointing Supreme Court verdict that will require people to pick up their abortion pills in person, adding yet another burden to those seeking an abortion (on top of the burdens already caused by the pandemic). The cycle of abortion stigma and disinformation certainly contributes to the erosion of equitable access to abortion on every level. While it may get more coverage on the state and federal level, there are small ways to minimize the impact of stigmatization and disinformation surrounding abortion. Challenging the media’s marginalization of the harm that anti-abortion activists perpetrate is one of them.

One of the most harmful tactics of the anti-abortion movement is the weaponization of pregnancy counseling through anti-abortion counseling centers (AACCs). AACCs, also known as Crisis Pregnancy Centers (CPCs), Pregnancy Resource Centers, or Fake Clinics, are pro-life, often faith-based, organizations whose sole purpose is to prevent people from accessing abortion care through deception, medical disinformation, and stigma. AACCs mimic the language, design, and even building interior of real reproductive health centers to trick people into thinking they are medically licensed reproductive health centers. They get people in the door by offering free pregnancy and STD testing and advertising themselves as comprehensive reproductive health centers. Then, they provide medical disinformation about abortion, contraception, and safe-sex practices “that have been labeled as inaccurate and deliberately misleading by the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.” But based on the media’s portrayal of AACCs, you wouldn’t know that.

In a recent article published by MetMedia — MSU Denver’s student-run publication — the author, Rachel Lorenz, went over the different healthcare options offered to Auraria students, including Alternatives Pregnancy Centers, an AACC that often parks their “mobile clinic” (a windowless white van staffed by volunteers that don’t need to be medically trained) on Auraria’s campus. Lorenz’s article is just another incident of the media falsely equating real health centers and AACCs, feeding into the lie that AACCs are legitimate reproductive health centers, perpetuating the harm that AACCs cause.

We at the Brazen Project want people to know that going to the Health Center at Auraria and going to Alternatives are very different experiences. Alternatives is not a licensed health center, nor are they required to have licensed medical professionals on-site. Prospective patients will not receive accurate medical information or be informed about all of their options. The Health Center at Auraria is a licensed health center with licensed practitioners that can help with all your healthcare needs. Their staff will talk to pregnant students about all of their options, including abortion. They do not have a hidden agenda and seek to help all students stay safe and healthy. Even if you do not want to get an abortion, going to the Health Center at Auraria — or another legitimate health center — and seeing a real healthcare provider that is required to provide you with medically accurate information is still a better option.

Anti-Abortion Counseling Centers Are Not Alternatives to Health Centers was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Marley Lerner (she/they)

Earlier this month, an article was published in Colorado Politics titled “Abortion Isn’t Healthcare — Not Even Close.” The writer, Douglas Groothuis, is a professor at the Denver Seminary. In this article, Groothuis expresses his opinion on abortion in this article and makes some disturbing claims and false facts to support his opinion.

The first thing mentioned is, “women’s health care is often a euphemism for abortion.”He then goes on to address Proposition 115, “which would have prohibited abortions after 22 months.”This is extremely important to address. Pregnancy lasts 38 weeks (about 9 months), not more than 22 months. And the proposition was opposing abortion after 21 weeks, not 22 months. This statement is misinformation and is not an accurate representation of the proposition, or pregnancy for that matter.

Groothuis then makes the point that the word “abortion” has a negative connotation attached to it:

We never use “abortion” for anything happy or planned. A business meeting that is aborted means something went wrong. A military mission might be aborted because it was poorly planned.

He has a point, and this is why the Brazen Project says “abortion” as much as possible, boldly and without shame. But even so, if aborting a mission is the best choice for the members of the mission, then it’s not a bad thing. In the same way, having an abortion is the best option for some folks, and that is not something to view as negative. It is important to protect the person involved.

The next idea Groothuis suggests is that pregnancies are not harmful to the pregnant parent. Maybe we should look at some maternal mortality rates, shouldn’t we?

The CDC states that in 2018, pregnant people of color were 2–3 times more likely to die in childbirth than white folx. Also, pregnancy can be harmful! Postpartum depression is a reality for a lot of people who have children — and it is not to be taken lightly. And, abortions aren’t always happening because of harmful pregnancies, they happen for so many more reasons.

Groothuis then goes on to talk about the fallacy of live births that happen from failed abortions. This is factually incorrect and extremely harmful misinformation and it should not be allowed on coloradopolitics.com or any website for that matter. He states “Fetuses have no safety — even if they are born alive due to a failed or botched abortion.” I’m sorry Douglas, but what?! Where did you get that information?

The last two points that Groothuis makes are infuriating for us Brazen folks, as well as any pro-abortion activists would be. He first states “far from being health care, abortion means the death sentence to the living, human being who is killed by it,” it is disappointing to us that there is no value placed on the individual already alive, who has to go through pregnancy and birth and raising a child:

Who are we to take away such a life and such human potential? Even if some pregnancies are unwanted, no human being is without value. Moreover, a child not wanted by the mother will be wanted by adoptive parents.

Someone ought to educate him on the foster care system, how adoption works, and how many children are still waiting to be adopted. This article is not only filled with incorrect information but is insulting to the lives of people who have experienced pregnancy or abortion. Groothuis has a lot of research to do.

To conclude, Douglas Groothuis uses his personal opinion to justify that abortion is not healthcare by using false information as well as upsetting ideology that would leave a lot of folx uncomfortable. It is important for pro-abortion activists to engage in conversations around these types of ideas so that we can work to debunk them.

Abortion IS Healthcare was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Nora Thomas (she/her)

Election season is worrisome. Months pass by where watching political advertisements is part of our routine, breaking news alerts us through different mediums daily and conversations are had on a regular basis about the state of our country. I would argue that not all of us are ready to have those conversations, but regardless, they still happen. And they’re not easy.

During the most recent election, how many times did you hear the words “abortion access?” How many times did your human and civil rights as a woman get questioned by the people closest to you? I grew up in a space where “my body, my choice” was a valid argument and no questions were asked. Because of this, I didn’t expect to experience the type of shame I did simply because I have a uterus only weeks before our pro-choice president-elect Joe Biden was voted into office.

One of the conversations I had before election season began was a fanatical dialogue that I think about every day. I was sitting at the dinner table on an outdoor patio with two of my closest self-identified cis-gendered male friends. We spent the majority of our time together laughing and catching up, but our conversation did turn into speaking about the now past election. The typical banter came up addressing the issues with both presidential candidates. As we got deeper into our discourse, the most prevalent issues our country is facing came up such as climate change, questioning our governmental body, and people’s access to abortion. Generally speaking, I’m more of a timid and reserved individual, especially in regard to voicing my personal thoughts and feelings. I learned during this early Fall night that that is not the case when talking about bodily autonomy and reproductive rights.

“How did Trump winning the presidency in the 2016 election directly affect your life as a woman?”

I was asked this question by one of the two cis-males I was conversing with. I didn’t have a chance to think before I started to speak with an angry tone to my voice. My hands trembled and my words shook.

“When I found out Trump won the presidency, as a 19-year-old female, my first thoughts were, ‘Where am I going to get MY birth control? How are others who menstruate going to be hurt by this?’”

Birth control has an intended use, but on top of that, it’s helpful for acne, easing menstrual cramps, regulating your cycle, and a million other reasons. This was my first thought because like many of the other people who use contraceptives, I was using it for multiple purposes and I couldn’t quite fathom why this was something I even had to worry about.

I continued explaining how dehumanizing this topic was. I talked about how I and many of my closest friends researched the risks and costs of implanted forms of contraception. We worried about not having access to birth control for a long duration of time. We were worried that the lack of access to birth control would lead to the loss of abortion access. If this was the case, how would this reflect on our future? How would it contribute to the more than half a million kids who are in foster care?

These were questions adolescent girls thought about because, yet again, there was a large scale of women whose lives were put at risk because of something that was almost out of our control.

I continued to explain why this question hurt me so bad. I thought about why men question us and why we need to justify what we want to do with our bodies. I thought about how this wasn’t fair and how as a woman, it felt like no one was on our side except for the other people with uteruses mourning around you. The worst part is, if I didn’t say anything to these men, they might not have an idea unless another woman told them.

Instances like this one start a vicious cycle. It creates a space where education around reproductive rights isn’t prioritized. This continues down the line and each generation learns these habits. The good news is that it is changing. We now have our first ever woman Vice President-Elect Kamala Harris along with other women in positions of power that can take action on these issues.

Unfortunately with this conversation, it is something I am still trying to process but it fuels me to create change. It’s infuriating to feel like just because of biological anatomy, individuals with uteruses are placed below individuals who should be our equals. The patriarchy continues to strengthen.

When presented with a situation like this, you can either take in what individuals are saying about your reproductive health or you can fight back. This conversation empowered me to figure out a way to educate with meaning behind it. As mentioned earlier, I am a shy person who generally keeps my opinions to myself. After the heat of the moment, I took a deep breath and walked away. I felt as if I had the ability to explain myself as well as others who menstruate and have a conversation around why this is so hurtful to us as humans. This switches the conversation which slowly changes the narrative. When we normalize the concept of contraception and being sex-positive, this changes opinions and judgments from others towards people with uteruses. Verbally connecting with individuals is the most powerful thing you can do to inform rather than attack.

The one positive thing that came out of this experience was how rewarding it was to stand up for myself and other people with uteruses around me. Some men might not think this way on their own, but that is why informative conversation should also change from being taboo. I was able to get my peace and I learned how important it is to me that I do whatever I can to feel like I’m valued in society. I’m more motivated than ever to continue the dialogue and empower people with uteruses to use their voice.

I’m Tired of Being Questioned was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Max Mapes (they/them)

CW: TRANSPHOBIA

Whenever there’s a push toward progress, there’s always a push back. Today, we’re seeing a push for gender-inclusive language in conversations about abortion with push back against the inclusion of trans men and non-binary folx in that conversation. This push back ranges from denying the manhood of trans men to insisting that abortion is a women’s issue and only a women’s issue. I don’t engage in conversations about the legitimacy of trans people, so if that’s what you’re looking for: #bye. But I do think it’s important to talk about why we’ve created a false binary between Women’s issues and gender-inclusive language. So…let’s talk.

We were all raised in a society that essentialized gender based on biological binaries, meaning we are taught to see people as male or female, man or woman, masculine or feminine based on whether they have a penis or vagina, more testosterone or more estrogen, xy chromosomes or xx chromosomes. But neither gender nor biology is binary.

About 1.7% of people are born intersex, meaning they have “differences in sex traits or reproductive anatomy.” For example, they may be born with a vagina but no uterus. We’ve constructed a gender binary based on the myth of biological binaries. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that 6 in 1,000 US adults don’t identify as the gender they were assigned at birth. That means that — if we assume that the 50:50::masculine:feminine ratio for transgender people is the same as for cisgender people — we are leaving 700,000 adults out of a conversation that directly impacts their reproductive health and rights. And that’s not okay.

That doesn’t mean this isn’t a women’s issue; in fact, it is specifically a women of colors’ issue. Reproductive rights haven’t always been up for debate. For the majority of human history, abortion was either totally unregulated or loosely regulated. In the US, it wasn’t until 1880, when a white, male OBGYN, Horatio Storer, convinced the American Medical Association (AMA) to pressure the government to tighten regulations, that the US got its first abortion ban. Storer began campaigning the AMA because he was concerned about how many babies non-white immigrants were having and how that could undermine white supremacy. That’s right, abortion was a-ok until white people were getting outnumbered, and then all of a sudden abortion was a sin, carrying steep legal and social punishments.

Shall these regions be filled by our own children or by those of aliens? This is a question our women must answer; upon their loins depends the future destiny of the nation — Storer

Intentionally or unintentionally, the criminalization of abortion forced cis women into motherhood and domesticity. To this day, abortion is about stripping cis women of their bodily autonomy and restricting their social mobility. And for that reason, abortion will always be a women’s issue. But that does not negate the 700,000 trans men and non-binary folx whose reproductive rights are, intentionally or unintentionally, also being trampled. They are also being forced into parenthood. They are also being stripped of their bodily autonomy. Where is their national outrage? Where is their march on the capitol? Where are they in this conversation? Abortion access is bigger than women. It is a matter of oppressive patriarchal and hetero-cisnormative forces that are meant to keep certain people in their “place”.

As our definition of women changes, so too should the language we use to talk about abortion. For far too long we have sacrificed trans visibility in the name of uplifting cis women. But these are not mutually exclusive objectives. We can affirm the targeted, disproportionate, negative effects abortion restrictions have on cis women without further marginalizing the most marginalized: trans men and non-binary folx. As activists for gender justice, we must affirm everyone’s gender-based oppression, and that means moving beyond trans-exclusive language. When we reframe abortion access as an issue for people with uteruses instead of cis women, we invite everyone with a uterus to join the conversation. Welcome.

An Invitation to Inclusion was originally published in The Brazen Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.