On the campaign trail this weekend, Senator Obama touched on what is perhaps the most explosive question in an already-explosive issue:  whether abortion is ever a good thing.  Here’s what he said, addressing his support from many to the right of political center:

“It may be that those who have opposed abortion get a sense that I’m listening to them and respect their position even though where we finally come down may be different,” he told reporters at a news conference.

“The mistake that pro-choice forces have sometimes made in the past, and this is a generalization so it has not always been the case, has been to not acknowledge the wrenching moral issues involved in it,” he said.

“Most Americans recognize that what we want to do is avoid, or help people avoid, having to make this difficult choice. That nobody is pro-abortion, abortion is never a good thing.” 

I’d agree that the abortion rights movement has gotten itself in trouble sometimes by refusing to acknowledge the complexities of a woman’s decision to terminate a pregnancy. But, really, Senator Obama, has the other side done that complexity thing any better? And do we gain anything by starting to accept and repeat their talking points? I think not.  What’s more, saying — as many on the anti-choice side of things do — that abortion is never a good thing obscures the myriad reasons that women get abortions. Yes, abortion is often a fraught decision for women. But it is often a good decision — and the availability of abortion is a good thing.  It’s a good thing for the already-living children of a woman who decides to get an abortion because she is struggling financially and wants to be sure that she can still put food on the table for her kids. Legal and accessible abortion is a good thing for the college student who decides to get an abortion because knows that she will not be able to finish her coursework and maintain her work-study job if she is pregnant or parenting — or for the high school student facing the same dilemma and having the same thoughts.  Legal abortion is a good thing for the professional woman who — in large part because of the societal sexism that we have not yet figured out how to escape — accidentally becomes pregnant and feels that she has to choose the career she has always dreamed of or the child she wants some day but not right now.  And abortion may be a good thing for a couple who are facing a long and painful labor to deliver an unviable child.  Abortion is certainly complicated for many, many people. But that doesn’t mean it’s never a good thing. Obama betrayed his convictions by speaking that way on the trail today. (via zuzu).  

A book to add to my very long list of books to read: Dr. Susan Wicklund’s “This Common Secret:  My Journey as an Abortion Doctor.” In her book, Dr. Wicklund, an abortion provider who flies into underserved areas to perform abortions, takes on the abortion taboo.

We don’t talk about it,” she said in a telephone interview. “People say, ‘Nobody I know has ever had an abortion,’ and that is just not true. Their sisters, their mothers have had abortions.”

She’s right. We don’t talk about abortion. We don’t talk about how common it is. We don’t question loudly enough our tacit acceptance of abortion as something shameful. And - and this is a hard pill even for many RJ advocates to swallow - we don’t talk about how even with all the prevention in the world, abortion would still exist, would still be central to women’s reproductive health, and must still be legal.

That said, Dr. Wicklund’s not perfect. It seems she too is focused on the line of rhetoric we have been fed — the idea that the central problem of abortion opponents is that they do not support prevention, say. Yes, this hypocrisy is central to their advocacy, but it’s only one of many many hypocrisies. What about the fact that the antiabortion movement is also, on the whole, against childcare subsidies and universal healthcare, and even SCHIP?  What about the fact that a so-called “pro-life” stance should include helping protect the lives of teenagers by teaching them, through comprehensive sex-ed, how to prevent STDs? What about public financing for abortions (are you listening Mr. Hyde, you freedom of medal winner you?) so that women who want to terminate their pregnancies can do so as early as possible - when it’s safest and when Dr. Wicklund actually performs abortions?

I don’t want to bite a generous hand - and Dr. Wicklund certainly gets a lot of it right. But if we’re going to stop being so ashamed to talk about abortion, we’ve got to really talk. Not only about abortion per se, but about abortion as an integral part of a patchwork of social justice initiatives and conversations.

A long running debate about diversifying “feminism” and about choice vs. reproductive justice has popped up again, this time in a guest post on Feministe by La Lubu, and in some of the reactions to her post.

La Lubu takes on a lot of the tired strains of our mothers’ feminism:  the focus on middle-class white women, the centering of abortion, the centrality of gatekeeping (who are the “real” feminists?.  She writes:

Although I identify as feminist, there are times when I feel alienated from feminism—or perhaps I should say, some of the narratives of dominant feminism (even when those expressions don’t necessarily come from the mainstream organizations, spokespeople, or media that traditionally represent feminism). I feel like the Outsider in a movement that should feel like home. My view is that our expressions of feminism (and everything else) is intimately connected to our identities; that it is impossible to separate those various facets of identity from one another—that those parts of ourselves are indelibly integrated into a whole; that feminism is necessary for us and the world; and that blogs can be an effective way to parse out our conflicts with one another and bridge the gaps in understanding in order that feminism remain a viable movement for positive change. The key word in that last sentence being “can.”

She identifies as forces that make her feel marginal in feminism the exclusive dominant feminist narratives (with the notable exception of Sojourner Truth);  a dismissiveness of the struggles of mothers (a byproduct of the focus on abortion); and an ignored classism. These and more.

La Lubu is right to identify these issues as part of what this generation of feminists inherited.  But what she fails to address is the push right now among feminists and activists to address some of these problems (the work’s not done — only starting, but it’s worth noting nonetheless). A key area where this is happening is in the rhetoric shift that is in evidence in the transformation of Law Students for Choice to Law Students for Reproductive Justice.  The name change, and the refocusing throughout the abortion rights movement, was brought about by a recognition of the problems that La Lubu points out — the things that have made so many people feel distant from the dominant feminist and abortion rights (pro-choice) narratives. Reproductive justice, as I discussed in my first post here, recognizes that we can’t fight for abortion rights in a vacuum. Abortion rights are meaningless if they are not accessible to everyone (young, old, immigrant, citizen, rich, poor). And they’re meaningless if not contextualized in a society more broadly respectful of women’s reproductive lives and that provides health care, child care, real family leave, real workplace protections for people of all genders and gender identities.   But not everyone is convinced.  For some, even those who support these initiatives, the language of RJ doesn’t seem like the right choice (bad pun intended).  Cara, writing at The Curvature, believes that the more expansive ideals of reproductive justice can be folded into the notion of “choice.” Though she identifies that there are problems with using the word “choice,” she writes:

Reproductive choice is also about the choice to give birth and raise a child. It is about the choice to have or not have children, the choice to have them when they are wanted, the choice to use birth control. I think that the media certainly dos seize upon the concept of “pro-choice” as “pro-abortion” and as being mainly concerned with abortion. But that doesn’t make it true.

I’m not so sure. Cara’s definition (read more of her post for an expanded discussion) still keeps a laser focus on childbearing. Choice as the meaningful opportunity to bear or not bear children is vitally important. But it’s not enough. We need more. We need the resources not only to make informed and free decisions about pregnancies, but also to provide for the children we do bring into this world, and for ourselves. That means education, jobs, environmental policy, and healthcare. And probably, much more.