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…)