On January 1, 2010, I began a three-year service on the Board of Directors of Planned Parenthood of San Diego and Riverside Counties.  Last week, I experienced my first event as an official board member by attending the President’s Council Speaker Series at one of our local affiliates.  I was one of the first to arrive, and since I am new to the board, I only knew a handful of people.  However, I eventually found myself speaking with Dawn and Connie, two members of the community who feel incredibly committed to serving Planned Parenthood and its mission.  They recounted how they worked as volunteers for Planned Parenthood when they were in college in the 70’s and now that they are retired, they are feeling an urge to volunteer again.  These women were lovely to speak with; they were funny, intelligent, and passionate.  And then Dawn said, “Now tell me, Jenn.  Why are you the youngest person in this room?  Why aren’t more people your age here?”  I turned around and noticed that the reception area had filled with more than a hundred people in the time I had spent getting to know my new acquaintances . . . and they were right.  Aside from the Planned Parenthood staff, I was the youngest guest in attendance—it was easy to tell that everyone else was from a completely different generation.  And then it really hit me—why am I the only 20-something in this room?  Why aren’t my peers more represented?  Why aren’t more law students here? Aren’t law students interested in protecting “people’s rights”?

            Law students are busy.*  There’s no denying that.  And it can be difficult to motivate students to attend an event where there may not be many lawyers present.  But women (and men) worked hard to gain the rights my generation often takes for granted.  We forget that there was a time when our mothers and grandmothers couldn’t walk into their nearest health clinic and walk out with a year supply of birth control, no questions asked.  Many of us may enjoy certain rights today, but that doesn’t mean those rights aren’t limited for many people out there or can be taken away from the rest of us.  There are people out there actively opposing us and trying to limit our rights . . . especially our right to control our reproductive freedom.  I shouldn’t be the only 20-something in a room full of reproductive rights advocates and supporters.  I urge those of you who want to get more involved but haven’t been able to find the time, to make the time. 

*I realize that people may read this who are not law students.  However, this is the lens I am applying since I am a law student, surrounded on a daily basis by other law students.

Jenn Kish

Law Students for Reproductive Justice at Thomas Jefferson School of Law in San Diego, CA held “Violence Awareness Week” (or V-Week) between February 15 and February 17 to raise awareness about domestic and sexual violence faced by women around the globe. 

We used the three days as both an awareness campaign and as a method to collect toiletries to donate to a local women’s shelter. A large colorful poster bearing violence-related statistics was on display behind our table, and handouts were available for those wishing to learn more.  Each day we posted a different question passersby could answer in an attempt to win a prize. The prizes were shirts that read “Don’t Turn Your Back on Violence Against Women.” One question was “what percentage of women are physically or sexually assaulted each year by either a husband or intimate partner or someone they know?” While a handful of people attempted fair guesses each day, the question on the last day (a nod to this being “National Condom Week”) yielded the most responses: a jar containing condoms was on display and students were urged to guess “how many condoms are in the jar?”  

Finally, our members asked students to take a picture for UNIFEM’s Get Crossed campaign, which urges people to take a stand and “Say No to Sexual Violence in Conflict.” A large red canvas sheet that read “Stop Rape Now” was the backdrop for the pictures where people stood with their arms crossed in the shape of an “X” to demonstrate their solidarity with the campaign. The week of activities was a huge success for our chapter as it garnered a substantial amount of attention from students and faculty.  

Jenn Kish

I attended a Roe v. Wade anniversary dinner last night where five speakers acting as “The Voice of Reproductive Choice” shared their stories about the importance of reproductive freedom in their lives.  There was an OBGYN who talked about not being able to find a nurse to perform a first trimester abortion in a hospital setting because of opt-out conscience clauses; a Latina mother with five children who works with Planned Parenthood in her community so that her children will have information about sex, STI’s, and reproduction that she never received; a gay father who affirmed that it “took a village to make his child” and praised the people and legal process that allowed him to make that choice; and a woman who spoke about her pre-Roe abortion. She was 16, and her parents paid a man, recommended by the family doctor, to perform the procedure.  After the procedure, the man requested that she kiss him to show her appreciation.  She said she thought she would have to carry the shame of that day to her grave. But then Roe v. Wade happened, and she could talk about her abortion without feeling ashamed all through the 80s and 90s. She referred to those years as “good times.”  I was shocked that anyone, ever, felt comfortable openly talking about her abortion, but then I realized that I came to political and sexual maturity during the eight years of the Bush administration, when the country saw reproductive and sexual freedom attacked and undermined on every front.  I never considered that these repressive policies might also have repressed the voices of those who exercised what little reproductive freedom they had left.

I am one of those repressed voices.  I’m white, and I grew up in an upper-middle class, Midwestern, Christian home where my very loving and supportive family never talked about sex.  My Church and my community taught me that sex occurred within marriage, and my mother communicated that she hoped I would act on those values.  I didn’t.

I had sex. I got pregnant. Not the first time. I used condoms and the pill with my partners.  I can’t pinpoint the exact experience out of which the pregnancy arose.  There was a broken condom, and I didn’t know that I could get EC at my college’s health center, and I couldn’t find anyone to drive me to Planned Parenthood, so I didn’t get plan B until the end of the 72 hour window.  A couple days later, my boyfriend removed the condom before ejaculating.  I don’t remember how or whether we responded to that situation. (more…)

The beginning of the new year is a time for reflection, optimism, and goal-setting. In this spirit, Harvard Law Students for Reproductive Justice presents its New Year’s resolutions, and we encourage your chapter to create its own.

For this semester:

1. Meet with administrators from Harvard’s health service to see if we can find out the motivations behind the opt-out policy.

 — Harvard allows anti-choice students to receive a refund of the portion of their health insurance fee which funds abortion.  This “refund” has amounted to roughly $1 per student, and there are student organizations which hold drives to encourage people to opt-out.  In the past, HLSRJ has held response drives, collecting $1 from pro-choice students and donating the proceeds to worthy organizations.  This year, we split our donation between Planned Parenthood and a local abortion fund.  However, several of our board members this year would like to find out why Harvard allows students to opt-out, and how exactly the process works, in hopes of creating awareness and possibly getting this policy changed.

2. Host a State of the Uterus event. (more…)

Along with at least 65% of other Americans, law students and lawyers believe there is a right to health care that ought to be enforced in the United States.  For many of us, common sense dictates that people should be able to control how, when, and whether we bear children and that we must have access to accurate information, quality services, and resources necessary to support these decisions.

However, many of us also learn in law school that common sense isn’t the foundation of the U.S. legal system.  When we study Constitutional Law, we discover that this great document doesn’t actually hold the government accountable for anything affirmative, but rather restrains itself from intervening in people’s lives.  On the surface, that sounds reasonable and just.

Until we learn that other countries’ constitutions actually hold governments accountable to respect, protect, and fulfill rights — protecting people from the injustices that occur when recognized rights and values are not backed up by strong public policies and the resources necessary to implement them.  This concept is both foreign and fascinating.  So, we enroll in International Law, Transnational Law, and Human Rights courses to dig deeper.  Unfortunately, these courses tend to focus on trade, war, or humanitarian law — very rarely on reproductive rights.

LSRJ believes that human rights law has much to offer us, establishing a framework for envisioning government as a positive force that ensures adequate health and well-being for all people.  Human rights law provides both analytical and strategic tools for reproductive justice advocates, positioning human dignity at the center of claims for the protection, promotion, and fulfillment of basic rights.  In that vein, LSRJ is excited to honor this Human Rights Day by promoting our newest set of resource materials for law students — the Human Rights Law Primer.  This guide lays out where reproductive rights are embedded in international human rights law and provides useful commentary to help us think about how human rights law can inform our RJ advocacy in the U.S. context and abroad. (more…)

In her feature on the supposed generational divide in the pro-choice movement, which ran in Sunday’s New York Times, Sheryl Gay Stolberg correctly observes that abortion has hit the headlines recently in the context of health care reform and the horrendously restrictive Stupak amendment—and it’s not something reproductive rights advocates are happy about.  But there isn’t much else I can relate to in her assessment of the current landscape in reproductive rights advocacy and activism.  In fact, I think the story—which argues that there is a chasm between the “menopausal militia,” meaning the generation of feminists who came of age before Roe v. Wade and view abortion in “stark political terms,” and the “millennials,” the younger set for whom Stolberg suggests abortion is a personal issue—misses the mark in a sad but revealing way.

Relying on quotes from Naral Pro-Choice America president Nancy Keenan, Stolberg promotes this political/personal dichotomy without actually explaining how this supposed shift to the personal manifests itself—other than the fact that the post-Roe generations seem less responsive to single-issue pro-choice calls to action.  Provocative accompanying artwork, which consists of a black rectangle with brightly colored letters spelling “WE” floating above “ME,” implies that younger women are selfish in neglecting abortion politics.  Yet Stolberg acknowledges that “a clear majority of Americans support the right to abortion, and there’s little evidence of a difference between those over 30 and under 30.”  In fact, she herself points to several examples of young people organizing right now to stop the Stupak amendment (including LSRJ’s recent webinar on abortion and health care reform legislation).  So what’s the issue?

Democratic pollster Anna Greenberg concludes that young people don’t respond to email alerts about contacting their legislators because they know abortion is legal and believe “if you really need one you can probably figure out how to get one.”  Which means not only are we selfish, but we’re also foolishly complacent.  But what about the millions of poor women, immigrant women, and young women who can’t ever “figure out how to get one” because the barriers we’ve erected to accessing legal abortion are simply too high?  Such women may be forced to carry an unwanted pregnancy to term or to induce an abortion through other means, with serious consequences for the health and security of themselves and their families.  And what about those of us who aren’t poor, immigrant, or under 18 but believe deeply that how our society treats those women reflects on all of us, individually and collectively? (more…)

Lawyers love to talk, so when you bring a group of lawyers-in-training together, there’s little need for conversation starters. Not surprisingly, I found this to be the case at this weekend’s Law Students for Reproductive Justice second annual Leadership Institute. What I did find surprising, but maybe shouldn’t have, was the energy, passion and insight of the conversations. While we had opportunities to engage in formal caucuses around issues facing new chapters, Law Students of Color, and ideologically conservative campuses, I witnessed some of the most inspiring conversations taking place in between the structured events and in whispers, mummers, and note passing during them. For many of us, the conversations spilled over into dinner and followed us into our hotel rooms. At the end of the weekend, I found myself giving a hurried hug to a woman I had met less than 48 hours prior as the subway doors closed mid-sentence on our conversation—which had started on a bus four hours earlier—about fostering and sustaining campus diversity. With the collective experiences of 80 law students advocating for reproductive justice across the country at our finger tips, I would have liked to see someone try to shut us up. 

But as we return to our respective campuses, people will try to shut us up, or at least temper our enthusiasm either because they disagree with the goals and values of the reproductive justice movement, or because they simply don’t see a place for reproductive justice in legal institutions or professions. While we received bags, literally, of activism tools this weekend, the greatest take-home of the weekend is the network of law students and professionals upon whom we can now call for strength and support whenever we confront the jungle gym of obstacles that can stand in the way of successful campus activism and reproductive justice advocacy.

(more…)

Being surrounded by a group of smart, driven, and passionate law students brought together by their common desire to advance the values of reproductive justice is like waking up on a winter morning wrapped in your down comforter—you never want to leave.  This is how I felt Saturday when I joined more than 80 law students from 50 law schools around the country to kick off the second annual Law Students for Reproductive Justice Leadership Institute. Our day was filled with activities and learning opportunities that ranged from brainstorming strategies for building sustainable campus chapters to learning the basics of a successful amicus brief to strengthening our abilities to identify strategic partnerships and work in coalition. These sessions and activities were led by new and seasoned reproductive justice activists including Tina Sinha, an intern at the LSRJ national office and rising 2L at UC Berkley School of Law, Jill Morrison, Senior Counsel at the National Women’s Law Center, and Cynthia Soohoo Director of the U.S. Legal Program at the Center for Reproductive Rights.

I felt a buoyant giddiness as I caucused with my peers about the challenges and success stories of new campus chapters—finally a group of people who understand me, who share my values and who want to support my efforts to advance reproductive justice on my campus and in my community. But as much as I would like to stay enveloped in this moment of warmth and comfort, I can’t ignore the fact that reproductive justice is anything but comfortable.

Being imprisoned and shackled during labor is not comfortable; finding a sanitary place to express breast milk between your Property and Torts classes is not comfortable; and viewing the fetus you’re about to abort on an ultrasound machine is anything but comfortable. But these are the realities we must confront, engage, and challenge as law students—and soon to be lawyers—committed to ensuring that all people and communities have access to the information, resources, and support they need to exercise their sexual and reproductive choices and rights.  

More than once I felt tears welling in my eyes as speakers relayed the intersecting oppressions that prevent women and their families from making meaningful choices about whether and when to have a child and from achieving happy and healthy birth outcomes. But the tears were tempered by the knowledge that I was in a room full of people dedicated to eradicating barriers to reproductive justice. And despite the discomforts that we may encounter on our respective campuses discussing sex, sexuality, reproduction, and their attendant taboos, a successful reproductive justice movement demands that we leave the warmth and comfort of the Leadership Institute—energized and renewed from the infusion of support we have received—and return to our campuses determined to forge unlikely, and even uncomfortable, partnerships that will enable us to reach more people , engage in more effective activism, and foster stronger legal scholarship and leadership around reproductive justice.

- Lauren R.S. Mendonsa

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

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