Story Time: Reflections from the South Regional Conference
Call it beginner’s luck: my first year in law school and the first-ever Law Students for Reproductive Justice South Regional conference just so happen to coincide, and for one fruitful day, my activist, academic, and professional worlds were temporarily united. The conference started with presentations by two women near and dear to my RJ-heart: Heidi Williamson of Sistersong and Tonya Williams of SPARK Reproductive Justice Now.
Anyone wondering about whether the RJ movement is alive and kicking in the south had their fears alleviated by the time these remarkable women finished speaking. Both Ms. Williamson and Dr. Williams did a fantastic job of explaining the concept of reproductive justice, and they did an even better job of explaining the significance the term has in the South, where reproductive justice work faces particular challenges. Dr. Williams pointed out that a majority of people of color live in southern states, so in many ways the success of the RJ movement in Georgia is key to the success of the movement overall, while Ms. Williamson pointed out that the limits of lobbying and legal advocacy is that it addresses the symptoms of deeper social problems (racism, sexism, classism) while the issues faced by the most vulnerable populations (undocumented immigrants, for example) get sacrificed as compromises are made.
There were certainly similarities in the histories, concepts, and narratives both women related. Still, I couldn’t help but be struck by how different their ultimate frameworks were. Sistersong operates according to a human rights framework, whereas SPARK is moving towards an understanding of reproductive justice oriented around bodily integrity. The difference may seem purely academic, and the two approaches are by no means irreconcilable. As a college professor-turned activist-turned law student, I’m certainly not one to quibble over overarching theories when hyper-conservative Georgia politicians and right-to-lifers are running amuck in my town. But the conference did remind me of something very important, something we tend to forget in the midst of our planning and strategizing. Despite our solidarity and shared values in the face of shared exploitation, sexual violence, and reproductive oppression, we can’t forget that what really sustains the movement is the lived experience of the particular people within it.
Having a framework is essential if we are to carry on with our work, but we can’t let the theories that inform our work overshadow the narratives of the people who are most impacted by reproductive injustice. But recognizing radical particularity isn’t always easy for law student to do. We spend the majority of our time making particular sets of facts fit legal patterns, and the issues facing us as activists require us to do just the opposite. But the health and sustainability of our movement may depend on our ability to articulate our differences and our disagreements, even as we forge new partnerships and collaborations.
Jena G. Jolissaint