On Roe v. Wade: Bodily Autonomy and Collective Action
This piece was written as a personal reflection on the overturning of Roe v. Wade. To learn more about reproductive rights and the June 24th SCOTUS decision, visit prochoice.org and reproductiverights.org, and visit Planned Parenthood to donate.
This past weekend, my friends and I joined the protests to oppose the recent decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. While it was quite the somber occasion to be gathering for, it was a powerful reminder of how impactful collective action is, not only for the cause, but for our own personal reflections of why we protest and act for justice. Of course, I have an emotional response to the decision and its forthcoming societal implications (many thoughts being articulated by the thousands of messages we’ve consumed in recent days), but I wanted to take the time to share some of my own reflections on the fight for bodily autonomy and how and why we protest.
1. We must include trans and non-binary people in the conversation about reproductive justice and bodily autonomy. While we are making moves towards gender inclusivity in these discussions (lots of posters said things like, “Trans men need abortions too!” or “Include Trans and NB folks in reproductive justice.”), many people are being left behind in this shift away from binary thinking. Abortion and reproductive rights are often framed as a women’s issue, but when you zoom out and examine the root of these problems, it all comes down to bodily autonomy – the right to make informed decisions about your own body and life. Advocating for fair and free abortions is clearly a fight for bodily autonomy, but so is promoting gender-affirming care and supporting trans athletes. These are strategies to police our bodies in ways that conform to patriarchy – the social structures that commit us to the gender binary (e.g., gender norms) and heteronormativity. In the same way that AFAB (assigned female at birth) folks are being forced to carry unwanted pregnancies to term, trans folks are being denied gender-affirming care and forced to live life in ways that don’t align with their true identities. Both are violent acts that do irreparable damage to individuals and entire communities. So, when talking to friends and family about reproductive justice and the right to an abortion, make sure to gently remind them of gender inclusivity and the overarching issues of bodily autonomy. Use gender-neutral language, like using they/them pronouns and saying people and communities rather than she/her pronouns and women or girls. Conversation changes mindsets!
2. Just because we might live in states where abortion is protected doesn’t mean we can’t show up for those who don’t have that same privilege. I happen to be from Illinois and now live in Massachusetts. In both states, it seems that abortion access will be protected – I’m immensely lucky that this is the case. I also come from an upper-middle class family and am lucky to have a community of chosen family around me that will help me afford an abortion if I ever need it. Not everyone has this kind of access – perhaps they live in states where clinics closed only days after the decision or come from families and communities that don’t support the right to an abortion. Even if you don’t think you will be personally impacted by Roe being overturned, show up for the working-class, queer, Black and Brown, and disabled communities that certainly will face the consequences. And remember, this isn’t a new fight – Black and Brown bodies have been exploited in similar ways for centuries – so, be sure to always amplify the stories of those at the margins.
3. Protesting should be for everyone. I can understand that collective action can sometimes look scary and intimidating — it can seem like only a certain kind of activist attends protests and marches, but these spaces are (or should be) inclusive of all people (who support the cause), no matter how you present. When my friends and I decided to go to the protest this weekend, we made the decision to dress up to look (and feel!) hot. Just four hot girls, embracing their femininity, going to protest. The reason we did this is because, as I said above, this is an issue of bodily autonomy. If we are fighting for bodily autonomy, who’s to say you should show up to a protest in a certain way? We decided to truly show up as our authentic selves, because at the end of the day we are fighting for the space to have full control over ourselves and our bodies. Sure, we stuck out a bit in the crowd, but we showed up, nonetheless. Recently for work, I wrote a short piece on Gen-Z for Change – a social justice coalition that advocates for issues that progressive Gen-Zers care about. As I was reading up on their work, I noticed that, while the issues they work on and the actions they take are all serious and important, the way they package the communication is very Gen-Z. They use slang, memes, gifs, and fun themes on their campaign websites to make collective action and political education fun and accessible for people like us. I kind of internalized this philosophy for myself this weekend, and that’s how we came to dress the way we dressed and made the signs that we did. My friends and I are classic college-aged, Gen-Z, Tik-Tok and thrifting loving people, and we embraced that in our protesting. We made signs that read, “I’m fucking tired,” and “hot girl walk meets protesting for our rights.” But we are also informed, intelligent, and outspoken women who can and will take up space to show up against injustices. My thoughts on this are young and still evolving, but I hope we can learn from Gen-Z for Change and make effective, radical, and sustainable collective action cool again.
I’m sure most share in my frustration, anger, and burnout when it comes to social justice issues in the US. It’s easy to be disheartened and discouraged, but, if these protests taught me anything, people do still care and they’re making noise. Let’s lead with love in this next era of activism.