Three years later, the elusive Connie Criminal is still coming to me for legal advice. Patti Plaintiff and Don Defendant are up to their old tricks. Bob’s still buying. Sam’s still selling. The Land of Law School Make-Believe is getting old.

Unsurprisingly, then, my summer internship—a Law Students for Reproductive Justice-sponsored placement at the National Network of Abortion Funds in Boston—is a welcome dose of reality, a chance to put some of what I’ve learned in the classroom to work in the field.  Where it matters. To real people.

The Network, which raises money to help women finance abortions, is comprised of over 100 individual member funds in over 40 states and four different countries. Through its “Hyde: 30 Years is Enough!” campaign, it works to reduce the economic barriers that impede women’s access to safe, legal abortions.

What this means for me, practically-speaking, is that in a whirlwind 10 weeks at the Network, I’ll have conducted legal research for two separate member funds. I’ll have investigated constructive steps to ensure public funding for abortion in the event the Hyde Amendment (a provision which restricts federal Medicaid funding for abortion in all but a very limited number of circumstances) is repealed. I’ll have analyzed states’ definitions of “medically necessary” in Medicaid statutes and administrative codes. I’ll have tracked health reform legislation. I’ll have attended the Network’s annual summit in Chicago—and a Network-organized vigil for the slain Dr. George Tiller. I’ll have defended and touted the importance of repro justice work in lengthy dialogs with family and friends (at least a handful of whom are vehemently conservative and anti-choice and who, probably without intending to, managed to help me better define and articulate my values). I’ll have piqued my husband’s interest in the cause. I’ll have done most of this to a steady backdrop of phone calls from women whose lives and futures depend on private funding for abortion and referrals from my Network co-workers to a local fund which might be able to subsidize their expenses and affect their reality dramatically for the better.

Because the reality is this: sans private funding, many of the women who turn to the Network for support would be forced to either give birth to unwanted children, incurring expenses incident to prenatal care, labor and delivery (to say nothing for the costs of childcare), and often risking their health in the process.  They might have to rely on unlicensed, “underground” providers if they can find one—or themselves, self-terminating pregnancies. The implications on women’s health—indeed, women’s lives!— are huge. Absent this private funding, some women’s only real “choice” is between bad and worse. 

Reality bites—and yet I think it’s tremendously dangerous to lose sight of it. My internship’s been invaluable in helping me stay focused: focused on what brought me to law school, focused on what keeps me there, and focused on affecting real change for real people post-graduation.

-Jonelle Kusminsky

Massachusetts School of Law ‘10

These days it seems like all I hear about are the twin crises of budget and healthcare, so I wasn’t surprised when one of my very first assignments this summer at LSRJ was to research religious hospitals and their funding. What did surprise me, however, was what I learned about the disparate standards of care between secular and religious healthcare facilities.

One out of every six patients in the U.S. is cared for in a Catholic hospital. In fact, the Catholic healthcare system is the largest private non-profit provider of healthcare in the nation – 70% of religiously affiliated hospitals identify as Catholic.  Because the Catholic healthcare system has significant medical responsibility for millions of Americans, the services they choose to provide or withhold can have a profound impact on the overall quality of care in the U.S. Additionally, religiously affiliated hospitals receive 50% of their funding from Medicare and Medicaid and also enjoy certain benefits like tax exempt status, low-cost financing through government bond programs, and in some areas, use of municipal buildings.

Because Catholic hospitals receive so much public funding and see so many patients, one might assume that the standard of care in a Catholic hospital is comparable to the standard of care in a secular hospital. Unfortunately, this assumption may not be true.

Some patients treated in Catholic hospitals – women in particular – may not be receiving reproductive healthcare considered basic and essential by secular medical facilities. That is because Catholic healthcare providers are governed by the Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services, with which all Catholic health care providers are obligated to comply (Directive 5).

Under the Directives, Catholic hospitals are prohibited from providing contraception (Directive 52), sterilization (Directive 53), most infertility treatments (Directives 40, 41, 42), condom distribution for AIDS prevention (Directive 52 prohibits all contraception, regardless of the reason), or abortion services (Directive 45).  Directive 48 goes so far as to say no medical care that could be construed as abortion can be provided, even to a woman with an extra-uterine (ectopic) pregnancy.

It is also difficult to obtain emergency contraception in Catholic hospitals—even as treatment for rape or sexual assault. Despite the fact that it is expressly addressed in the Directives, the language of Directive 36 is unclear on when and under what circumstances EC can be provided:

Compassionate and understanding care should be given to a person who is the victim of sexual assault. Health care providers should cooperate with law enforcement officials and offer the person psychological and spiritual support as well as accurate medical information. A female who has been raped should be able to defend herself against a potential conception from the sexual assault. If, after appropriate testing, there is no evidence that conception has occurred already, she may be treated with medications that would prevent ovulation, sperm capacitation, or fertilization. It is not permissible, however, to initiate or to recommend treatments that have as their purpose or direct effect the removal, destruction, or interference with the implantation of a fertilized ovum.

Since emergency contraception is most effective in the first 72 hours, a healthcare provider’s refusal to provide comprehensive treatment can further traumatize survivors of rape and sexual assault by forcing them to leave the hospital and attempt to obtain EC elsewhere.

Catholic hospitals do provide a tremendous amount of care in rural and impoverished communities – indeed, they are often the only hospital in such communities. The question remains, however, whether funding institutions that refuse to provide the full spectrum of reproductive healthcare is really the best use of our scarce federal Medicaid and Medicare dollars.

-Megan Mullett

 “I’m working for Law Students for Reproductive Justice… It’s a pro-choice group.”  By the fifth time someone asked me what I was doing for the summer, I had become used to the follow-up question.  For the last year, since I became a member, I thought that reproductive justice was simply a nice way of saying “pro-choice.”  To paraphrase Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon (and Buddhist philosophy), I quickly learned that I was pointing at the moon… focusing on the finger, and missing all of the heavenly glory.

At the Oakland intern training, we were basically put through a boot camp of reproductive rights issues, getting quick overviews of all of the different issues that we are fighting for.  We learned about the status of reproductive health care access in Africa, what the Obama administration is doing for reproductive rights issues, and what the Northern California ACLU is doing to ensure that students here are getting accurate sex education in schools.  The most important realization that I came to, however, involves the definition of reproductive justice.

The RJ movement is more than ensuring that people have access to abortions.  Reproductive justice ensures that everyone has the right to make an informed decision regarding the time and manner that they reproduce.  This definition encompasses immigrants’ rights, environmental justice, social justice, LGBTQIQ issues, abortion rights, and numerous other issues.  We don’t have reproductive justice if women don’t have the right to an abortion, but we also don’t have reproductive justice when women can’t access prenatal care.  We are fighting for both the ability to procure birth control, and the ability to access assisted reproductive technology.

As part of my internship this summer, I am working with the California Healthy Nail Salon Collaborative to ensure that chemicals used in nail salons are not harmful to either workers or patrons.  As I learn more about the toxins that are part of every day items, I think about how the term “reproductive justice” enables me to talk about this issue more coherently.  It represents a philosophy that I have always held dear, but have never really been able to express: the hope that everyone will be able to choose when, and if, they want to have children, without any other factors standing in the way of them exercising that right. 

-Jacob Johnson

I decided to go law school specifically because of a report I heard on NPR. The report told the story of a 13-year-old girl who was a ward of the state of Florida. Her parents’ rights had been terminated, and she lived in a state-run group home. She disappeared from State custody for a month, and when she returned she was pregnant. State authorities blocked her from accessing an abortion. Because the girl had good lawyers, a juvenile court judge granted her request and she was able to have an abortion. That girl’s story presented a concrete reproductive justice issue: this was a marginalized, resource-less child caught up in the midst of multiple overlapping state systems, all of which failed her when she needed help the most. The State attempted to use the mechanisms of the law to prevent her from taking care of herself. After I heard that story, I knew I wanted to go to law school so I could be an advocate for young women. I figured I’d end up doing public policy or impact litigation work on issues impacting women and families.

I started an LSRJ chapter in my 1L year. LSRJ was my anchor throughout law school. The Hamline chapter, along with the other Minnesota chapters at William Mitchell College of Law and the University of Minnesota, and all our coalition organizations throughout the community, have put on amazing education programming, volunteer opportunities and social events for the last 3 years. The new leaders coming into the organizations are poised to continue that great work. I was incredibly lucky to work with all of them.

More profoundly, the RJ framework has deeply impacted the way I think about the social justice work I’ll do after law school. LSRJ has made me a more thoughtful advocate. I used to think the most important work lawyers could do was to litigate big cases, pass big laws, and generally make a big scene about the work they were doing. But one of the most important things about the structure of the RJ movement is that the legal team stays in the back. We “listen more than we speak” and “follow more than we lead”. What is most important in RJ, and in all sorts of movements, is that the people most impacted by injustice lead the charge for justice. Those of us with the privilege and legal expertise use our skills to serve the goals of those who lead.

In thinking about my role as an advocate for justice these days, I focus on how one small administrative regulation, one piece of paperwork, or one oral motion to a judge, can make all the difference in the life of the one person sitting across my desk from me. I will be very proud to work as an RJ advocate in the trenches, under the radar. Activism through the RJ lens leads me to think less about the big cases and legislative changes I can make, and more about the small, piece by piece chips I can take out of bad systems one client at a time. I find focusing on those individual trees in the forest to be a small, important, and humble way to use a legal education to do work that makes a huge difference to individual people who are marginalized by the legal system, based upon their individual circumstances and the intersectionality that impacts their lives.

In a way, the RJ movement has moved me to think about that girl from the NPR story in a different way. When I first heard her story and decided to go to law school, I thought about her in the context of the abortion rights movement, and about big policy changes that could be spurred by publicizing the injustice that was done to her. Now, I think about her story in the context of what those lawyers in the trenches did for her. Their focus was not on a news story, a legislative push or some big legal challenge. Those lawyers’ focus was on what was best for that one young client, in the moment when she was most in need due to her unique, individual situation. That’s real reproductive justice lawyering.

-Kate Hannaher

On May 8, 2009, ABC’s 20/20 aired a program hosted by John Stossel meant to take a controversial look at issues ranging from the preservation of endangered species to pregnancy discrimination, titled “You Can’t Even Talk About It.”  The segment on pregnancy discrimination, which asks, “Should companies fire women for getting pregnant?”, begins ominously: “A woman at your office is pregnant.  She’s going to miss some work and cost the company money.  So is the company free to pay her less or even fire her?” Stossel’s logic sounds reasonable, even tempting, right? Well, no.

Stossel bemoans the fact that, thanks to the Pregnancy Discrimination Act (PDA), today employers are warned that you can’t even ask in a job interview, “are you pregnant?” or “might you start a family?”. 

(The PDA holds that discrimination on the basis of pregnancy, childbirth or related medical conditions constitutes unlawful sex discrimination under Title VII, and requires that women affected by pregnancy or related conditions must be treated in the same manner as other applicants or employees with similar abilities or limitations.)

Stossel then interviews Carrie Lukas, the Vice President of Policy and Economics for the Independent Women’s Forum, who believes that employers should be able to fire women for becoming pregnant.  (Curiously, Stossel fails to mention that the IWF is an ultra-conservative organization which, for instance, takes the position that Title IX has institutionalized discrimination against men.  Lukas explains that she is taking her third maternity leave in four years; it is her position that “if my employer decides they no longer want me as an employee, then it should be their right to fire me.”

Stossel and Lukas’ arguments appear to be based on two flawed arguments: One, that pregnant women impose undue costs on employers, and two, that anti-discrimination laws (presumably all types—discrimination based on race, ethnicity, religious beliefs, gender, sexual orientation, disability) actually work to harm people falling in those protected classes.

The first argument is made by both Stossel and Lukas.  Lukas claims that her colleagues pick up her “slack” when she’s at a pregnancy-related doctor’s appointment.  Stossel asserts that companies should be free to pay employees what they think an employee is “worth”—which is apparently less as a pregnant woman.  This line of thinking singles out pregnant women in a way that treats them unfairly compared to employees with temporary illnesses or medical conditions.  Pursuant to the PDA, if an employee is temporarily unable to perform her job because of her pregnancy, the employer must treat her the same as any other temporarily disabled employee.  Thus, the PDA merely requires employers put pregnant employees on equal footing as other employees with temporary disabilities— for example, if a coworker with a broken leg is given less physically stressful work while injured, the employer must offer a pregnant employee similarly easier duties while pregnant.  

The second argument is purportedly made out of concern for women.  Stossel states that the PDA creates problems for women because, according to him, once Congress decides some group deserves “special protection,” employers simply refuse to hire persons in those classes.  And, Lukas claims that because of the PDA “all of a sudden a potential employer is looking at me and thinking, she just might turn around and sue us.  That makes it less likely that I’m going to get hired.”  So, because of the PDA, women (regardless of intention to become pregnant) in the workforce are walking, talking “lawsuit bombs,” if you believe Stossel.

Stossel says that Congress was wrong to think that the PDA would end pregnancy discrimination, and cites the many lawsuits brought pursuant to it to support his claim.  But this is backwards thinking—lawsuits were brought because the new law offered pregnant women who were discriminated against protection.  Yes, John, pregnancy discrimination lawsuits are on the rise—because employers continue to discriminate against women based on pregnancy! With our country’s history of racism, sexism, and homophobia, how can we just expect employers to “do the right thing”? The government intervenes to protect “discrete and insular minorities,” as the famous footnote in Carolene Products suggested, as it should.  Congress intervened to address racial and sex-based discrimination in the workplace with Title VII.  And because pregnancy discrimination is intimately tied with sexism and stereotypes about women and harms working families, it is no wonder that Congress enacted the PDA.

In a different segment on the same topic, Stossel interviews Debra Ness, president of the National Partnership for Women and Families, and, in what appeared to be an ill-advised “slippery slope”-type argument, likened pregnancy discrimination to discriminating against “stupid, dumb, and lazy people.”  Stossel persisted with his argument that discrimination laws hurt the very people they’re meant to protect, saying that an employer can hire a man—who is evidently not a lawsuit “bomb”—but if the employer chooses to hire a woman, “I’m stuck, I can never fire her.”  Stossel then mused, “I discriminate all the time. . . isn’t that a part of life? The question is where you draw the line, where it’s legal, where it’s not?”  Well, for starters, it’s illegal when it’s not based on any relevant aspect of job performance. 

So, what is Lukas’ and Stossel’s proposed solution? An idyllic world, it would seem.  Lukas claims that “lots of employers would hire pregnant women” (even though according to her they impose costs and create more work for other employees).  She maintains that the best way to prevent discrimination is by implementing a free market system—that because discrimination is a “bad business practice,” people won’t want to work for companies that discriminate, and the system will just magically regulate itself.  However, her argument is based on several tenuous positions: all or most women entering the workforce wish to become pregnant; women who become pregnant become a liability to their employers; in a free market, employers wouldn’t engage in pregnancy discrimination anyways, because it’s “the right thing to do.”  I am not so confident.  Anti-discrimination laws are needed precisely because the system does not regulate itself.  The “sharing of responsibilities” at her workplace due to her pregnancy-related absences that Lukas decries is exactly what happens in numerous other circumstances that flexible workplaces—when employees are ill or have ill family members, for instance—manage without complaint.  Treating pregnancy differently simply reinforces sexist and stereotypical notions about women in the workplace.

-Amanda Allen

This semester I was given the opportunity to intern at Law Students for Reproductive Justice, and I thought this blog would be the perfect place to tell everyone about all of the great things I’ve learned and done this semester.

Working at LSRJ I was able to work on great assignments, and learn about things that I am passionate about.  My work for the semester included developing an intersex and a transgender fact sheet.  This was a great opportunity to use my existing knowledge and learn more, in areas that truly interests me.  This not only gave me a chance to learn new things, but also to utilize the areas of expertise and knowledge that I had coming into the internship.  I also edited and updated existing fact sheets.  This was an incredible opportunity to learn more about topics of interest to me.  Since starting my internship, I’ve found myself engaging in more debates with friends about reproductive justice issues because I am now very well versed in so many more areas than before my internship.

In March of this year LSRJ took me to attend Reproductive Freedom Day 2009 in Sacramento, which was sponsored by the California Coalition for Reproductive Freedom.  The highlight of this day was going to the Capitol and lobbying.  The day also included workshops, speakers, and an introduction on how to lobby.  I received an introduction to the lobbying process, and then I was sent with a small group to an appointment with a Congresswoman to advocate for SB 810, the California Universal Healthcare bill.  This was an absolutely amazing experience for me.  I think of my younger years as a minority in a small town, sharing a one bedroom apartment with my mom, and am in awe of the opportunities that I have gained through law school and through LSRJ.  I never would have imagined that someone from that background could be in Sacramento at age 25 lobbying to advocate for new laws that will affect the entire state of California. 

Although I intend to work in the criminal arena in the long term, my internship with LSRJ has been my most valuable internship thus far.  I have learned many things, made great connections, and have been given amazing opportunities.   

C. Caleb Arring

Drug policy has benefited from the harm reduction movement’s innovative approach to improving personal safety.  The application of a harm reduction model to reproductive justice has the potential to transform the way we view reproductive justice issues and mobilize support for issues that are traditionally marginalized within the movement.  I want to consider what we can learn from the harm reduction movement in advocating for sex workers’ rights and comprehensive sex education.

Harm reduction is a public health philosophy that emphasizes individual safety, regardless of lifestyle choices, over prohibition.  This approach acknowledges that some individuals may continue to engage in risky behaviors and aims to address the needs created by those behaviors.  The harm reduction movement spearheaded efforts to improve safety and provide services to substance abusers, such as safer injection sites for heroin addicts—the theory being that if addicts were going to use, at least providing them with clean needles would benefit the addicts themselves as well as the overall public health.  Because harm reduction focuses on social and environmental aspects of risky behavior, its application to sex work is intuitive.  

Sex workers face violations of basic human rights on a daily basis, including violence at the hands of clients as well as police brutality.  Additionally, many sex workers must cope with homelessness, substance dependency, and extreme poverty and desperation.  Because street-based sex workers are predominantly indigent women of color, selective law enforcement practices disproportionately target poor, minority women.

Sex workers are isolated from health care services because of fear of arrest and prosecution, as well as the increasingly inaccessible cost of such care.  Street-based sex workers in particular face health risks that the average worker does not, such as violence (perpetrated by police and clients), exposure to sexually transmitted infections and HIV/AIDS, and exposure to the elements.  When sex workers do access health care services, it is generally because of an emergency; thus, lack of access to preventative services is a serious health concern for sex workers.

In the context of providing services and outreach to sex workers, then, an application of the harm reduction model must take into account how various and overlapping forms of oppression create unique challenges for sex workers:  namely, substance abuse problems and lack of resources to access health care.  Services should include the provision of safer sex kits to sex workers and training in condom-negotiation skills, as well as free and confidential STD testing and information about HIV/AIDS.  Holistic services should also embrace substance abuse counseling and clean needles for drug use and hormone injections for transgendered sex workers who utilize hormone therapy.  Programs that collaborate across disciplines would address sex workers’ needs the most effectively by tackling substance abuse, safe housing, domestic violence, and health care.

So, why is this an issue of reproductive justice? First, this approach recognizes that sex workers are often in the industry for reasons beyond their control, such as economic hardship or inability to enter or reenter the workforce due to lack of recognized work experience or a criminal record.  In this respect, this acknowledgement of the multiplicities of oppression reflects the values of the reproductive justice movement—harm reduction recognizes that the decision to enter or remain in the sex industry can be (but is not always) a result of economic, racial, and gender injustice.  Accordingly, rather than criminalize, patronize or demonize sex workers, harm reduction seeks to provide safer options for those who choose to continue in the sex industry.  And, because a harm reduction approach ascribes no moral judgment to the activities of others, the traditional hierarchy assumed by service provision is disrupted.  Significantly, this challenges the notion that those in positions of power “know best” while empowering sex workers to make the healthiest choice possible for themselves under their individual circumstances.  This approach also empowers sex workers to use contraceptives and educate themselves on sexual health issues.  Importantly, then, application of the harm reduction model does not demean the work that sex workers do because it both identifies the intersection of race, class, and gender-based oppression that often create the need to continue working in the sex industry and recognizes that some sex workers remain in the industry by choice.

I already blogged about abstinence-only education, but I think it’s important to consider sex ed in light of harm reduction as well.  The philosophies which underlie harm reduction call for the elimination of funding for abstinence-only education in schools and implementation of comprehensive, sex-positive sex ed.  Abstinence-only education does not actually result in teens abstaining from sex, and instead denies them critical information about sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy prevention, and, yes—sexuality itself. 

Harm reduction acknowledges that people—and, in this case, young people—make choices that may put their health or well-being at risk, and seeks to provide information to most safely make those choices rather than administer judgment or condescension.  Like the earliest manifestations of the harm reduction movement—safer injection sites combined with resources and support for substance abusers who were trying to stop using drugs—comprehensive sex education presents young people with information and options.  And, like its predecessors in the movement, this information is health- and life-saving.  For teens who are having sex or are going to have sex, comprehensive sex education equips them with the tools and information they need to make that decision in a way that protects them from diseases and unwanted pregnancies as well as providing them with a healthy outlook on sexuality. 

Reproductive justice posits that all people have a right to information required to attain sexual and reproductive self-determination.  Providing students with comprehensive sex education reflects the principles that motivate the harm reduction movement, and as such gives students the tools they need to make healthy decisions about their bodies, their relationships, and their futures.

-Amanda Allen

LSRJ Alum and former Secretary for the Board of Directors Heather Busby has a blog post up at RH Reality Check about the post-Roe generation’s involvement in the reproductive justice movement.  Check it out, and join in the dialogue in the comments!

Today, we have a special guest blog post from Sheena Bosket, co-coordinator of LSRJ’s chapter at Georgia State University.

Last night, I watched 2 episodes of the MTV show “Sex…with Mom and Dad.” The show attempts to facilitate a dialogue with teenagers and their parents about sex, where both parties can air their grievances, concerns, etc. with the help of board-certified sex and relationship therapist Dr. Drew. Both episodes that I watched dealt with teenagers who had been with a number of sexual partners and parents/siblings that were concerned about them. However, in the first episode, the teenager was female and in the second episode, the teenager was male. I was struck, though not surprised, by the contrast in treatment of the two teenagers by Dr. Drew and by the voiceovers used to describe them. In the voiceovers in the episode featuring the female teenager, she was repeatedly referred to as “promiscuous” and was said to “sleep around.” In the voiceovers for the male teenager, he was referred to as a “player” and a “male whore,” a phrase that is offensive to women because by using the qualifier “male,” the suggestion is made that usually a “whore” is female.

As the episodes progress, Dr. Drew uses exercises to open up the dialogue between the teenagers and their parents. The first exercise is called “The Icebreaker,” which is meant to encourage both the teenager and her/his parents to share parts of their sexual past and openly communicate with each other. The second exercise is called “The Breakthrough” and is meant to show the teenager the potential consequences of his/her actions. After each exercise, the parents and teenager meet with Dr. Drew to discuss how the exercise affected them. In the episode featuring the female teenager, even before he assigned the first exercise, Dr. Drew took a noticeably paternalistic approach to discussing her sexual history with her by suggesting that her number of sexual partners was most likely a sign of internal turmoil, which may have been true, but does not necessarily have to be the case. When the teenager was hesitant to reveal to Dr. Drew how many sexual partners she had been with, Dr. Drew asked her if she was afraid that people were going to judge her if she revealed her number. When the teenager responded affirmatively, Dr. Drew told her that her fear suggests that she feels guilty about how many people she’s been with. I don’t think this is necessarily true. I think her fear shows that she is aware of the society she lives in. The fact of the matter is if you are a teenage girl in America and it’s decided that you’ve been with more than your fair share of sexual partners, people are going to judge you. That’s just true. Accept it Dr. Drew. Also, she may have been hesitant to reveal her sexual past because she knows that her peers watch this show and she didn’t want to be called names at school; a justifiable fear that should have been acknowledged by Dr. Drew. He also asked her how many sexual partners she planned on having in her life and told her that he was concerned about “the numbers,” a concern that was noticeably absent from his discussion with the male teenager who, interestingly enough, had had more sexual partners than the female teenager.

In the female teenager’s episode, her “Breakthrough” exercise was designed to show her the “weight of her choices.” She, her mother, and her sister all participated in the exercise, which involved all of them going on a nature walk together. Along the way, each person had to pick up a rock for each sexual partner they had been with and put it in a bucket that they carried with them for the duration of the walk. The teenager had the most sexual partners of the three and therefore, she had the heaviest bucket and the most to consider. I do not feel positively about this exercise because I feel the subtext of it was that the teenager should feel guilty about the number of sexual partners she’s had or that she should be punished for having as many partners as she’s had. If Dr. Drew was really concerned about this teenager understanding the consequences of her actions, a much better exercise would have been for each rock to have the name of a possible STI she could have gotten written on it along with a rock that had “pregnancy” written on it, as this is another consequence of her choices.

Now, I haven’t said all of this just to vent. Well, maybe some of it. I’ve said it to point out that this television show, which was meant to facilitate sexual dialogue between the teenagers who watch it and their parents as well, may also have a very substantial negative effect: instead of encouraging young women to talk to their parents about what’s going on in their lives, it may convince them to keep their sex lives to themselves and be ashamed of them as a result of the sexist treatment of young women on the show. By choosing to create a television show like this, MTV has also created for itself extra responsibility. We live in a society where some young people are still being “educated” about sex solely through “abstinence-only” programs. Many of these programs give young people erroneous information and if they feel that they can’t turn to their parents to discuss this information and possibly have it corrected, what these teenagers don’t know can hurt them. Some teenagers may only receive correct information about STIs, testing, pregnancy, etc. from a show like “Sex…with Mom and Dad,” but if this information is presented via a sexist framework, it can still be harmful. If MTV wants to appropriately address the issues that the young people face who have made the network so successful, this needs to change.

-Sheena Bosket, Co-Coordinator, LSRJ at Georgia State University

I’m short on time this week, so here’s a round-up of links, including follow-ups on some of the stories I talked about in my last post.

Outlaw Midwives, a Manifesta.

Mostly pregnant middle and upper class educated white women have the economic and racial privilege and choices to have a ‘natural/normal’ birth. These women, a small segment of the global birthing world, create their natural experiences by exoticising, fetishizing, imitating and co-opting the practices and images of 3rd world brown women childbearing cultures. Natural/normal concept is really code for ‘preferred’, it is the elite white women who have the preferred childbirth and normal body. Their body, lifestyle, childbearing, mothering, and inevitably, their children set the standard through their privilege and access for what is normal and natural.

It’s not about ‘natural’ birth, vs. medical interventions vs. Cesarean. It is about empowerment.

At Salon: Bristol Palin stammers the truth.

Bristol told Van Susteren that telling her parents she was pregnant “was, like, harder than labor,” and described sitting on the couch with Johnston and a best friend there for support, so petrified about making her announcement that she was “just sick to my stomach,” so much so that finally, her best friend had to blurt it out for her. Bristol continued, “I don’t even remember it, because it was just like something I don’t want to remember.”

Amanda Palmer talks more about her controversial song, “Oasis”, and her personal experience of abortion.

I would have to say the worst part about getting an abortion wasn’t the surgery itself, it was having to deal with people screaming at me outside of the clinic, and literally shoving up against me, and shoving pictures of mutilated fetuses in my face. I think, if anything else, when it comes down to it, writing that song was my way of processing that kind of assault, and just making it into a joke, which is how I process it, and that’s got to be fair.

More on Nadya Suleman and the “octuplet debate”:

From RH Reality Check: Missing the Point on Large Families– “Instead of focusing on those who make questionable choices, why not focus on those who have no choice?”

From Lisa at My Ecdysis: Mother of Fourteen, Nadya Suleman– “What I find interesting, though, is that throughout history and the world, there are women exactly like Suleman who raise their multitude of children with much less media and attention than Nadya Suleman. There are women who are neither scorned or criticized for the number of children they have. They are ignored. The reaction our country has had to Nadya Suleman confounds me.”

From Alas, a Blog: Nadya Suleman Receives Death Threats and Return of the Revenge of the Daughter of the Welfare Queen.

Julie writes: this is about “the worship of motherhood and the hatred of mothers.” And I don’t think you can have one without the other.

Nojojo writes: I can’t help wondering how much of the rage I’m seeing — not merely outrage, but murderous incandescent fury — is because the Welfare Queen specter has been raised in Americans’ minds, perhaps conflated in some weird-ass way with The Arab Threat and maybe even The Brown Conspiracy To Outbreed White People? (Suleman’s fertility doctor appears to be Indian, see. We’re all in on it!)

This issue, by the way, is something I didn’t talk about in my last post, and should have–the fact that Nadya Suleman is a woman of color. I think it has everything to do with the way people have responded to this story.