Well, the bar exam has officially robbed me of my time, energy, and capacity to blog. But injustice continues. So we’re bringing on some super guest bloggers for the summer — starting today. Look out for posts from LSRJ interns Erin Simonitch (writing from California) and Emily Kane (from Mae Sot, Thailand). I’ll let them each tell you more about themselves….

And away we go!

It must be because this blog mentions “sex” so much (in the context of education), but everytime I check the comment spam filter I find the most misogynistic, racist, pornographic spam comments I have ever seen. Thank goodness for the filter.

Here’s a not so hypothetical hypo (yes, I’m studying for exams, so I am awash in hypos): an LSRJ chapter plans an event called “Sex Toys 101″ in which they plan to bring in an educator from a local shop to teach students about sexual health and pleasure and to facilitate a discussion about state laws around the country concerning the legality of sex toys. Two hours before the event, the school’s assistant dean cancels it, citing some school regulation that bans the selling or promotion of commercial products by a private company. Except that no one was promoting or selling anything — anything, that is, other than a sex-positive attitude. The student group yells censorship. The dean says it’s just a simple case of misapplication of school rules.

Sound far-fetched? Think again. This is going on right now at the University of Wisconsin. And the school’s LSRJ chapter is in the thick of it. The chain of events might make more sense in, say, Alabama or Texas — states with a recent history of outlawing sex toys — but in Wisconsin? So it is.

Luckily, it appears as if the law school community is seeing through the dean’s flimsy reasoning. From the blog of one professor: “That sure sounds reasonable, and it might be if it wasn’t bulls**t!”

And so it appears. The person who came to speak at the event provided the education as a public service. Experts from Babeland have done the same thing at NYU without incident. They don’t bring anything to sell or push students to patronize the store. Instead, they come to promote safe and healthy sexuality. Shouldn’t a graduate school with a student body made up wholly of adults want its students to have access to all the information necessary to make informed, empowered, and healthy sexual choices? Wouldn’t a law school want to nurture the ideals of the First Amendment?

Wisconsin LSRJ thinks so, and the group is organizing students on campus to protest the dean’s actions. The major league blogs have picked up. And the pressure is mounting. But I guess this is the fight we a society can expect when we allow the government to fund abstinence-only “education” programs, which plant the seed of our dysfunctional thinking about sexuality.

So, unbeknownst to me, last week was the first-ever national week of action for reproductive justice (note to organizers:  please get the word out better next year!).  The RJ Network, organized by the very cool Third Wave Foundation, seeks to get youth involved in advocating for reproductive justice around the country. In honor of the week, here’s an awesome video:   

I think this video gets right to one of the keys of the RJ movement: the emphasis on the community, on community-building, and on strength through organizing. As lawyers and law students, it’s easy to forget sometimes that the courts are not the only — or even the best — way to effect social change. Especially now, when the federal courts are particularly unreceptive to civil rights and social justice, and when many states have similarly conservative state supreme courts. But even in an era of friendlier courts, organizing is not just a good tactic, but a vital one — one that is key to the success of the RJ movement. For a long while, the civil rights movement, and particularly feminist causes, have been seen as being very top down. And they have been. Feminist lawyers have pushed an aggressive litigation agenda, but sometimes without checking with their very constituencies. Reproductive justice reminds us that we can’t do that, and that we shouldn’t do that. Our movement will be stronger and our claim more powerful when it is diverse racially, ethnically, geographically, in terms of age, and in terms of education level and work status and immigration status.

So my hope for the (now past) official week of action and for the future many weeks of unofficial action is that we can keep in mind the importance of diversity of tactic in our movement, and that we can act with the knowledge that our legal precedents are only as strong as the communities they affect.

(via Feministing)

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).  

Last week, I wrote about why prisons are a feminist issue. This week, another feminist takes on feminists’ complicity in the mass incarceration movement. Writing in Make/Shift Magazine and reposted on AlterNet, Jessica Hoffman calls out white, wealthy feminists (who have long been the face of the movement) for their (our?) reliance on police and notions of community safety — an impulse that has devastated the black community. Hoffman writes:

In recent years, members of INCITE! Women of Color Against Violence have incisively and repeatedly critiqued the white-feminist-led antiviolence movement for its reliance on (and, thus, complicity with) the U.S. criminal-legal system, which uses the rhetoric of “safety” to destroy communities of color, squash dissent, and create profit for private corporations. Yet the primary macro-level strategies of the white-feminist-led movement against domestic violence and sexual assault continue to rely on this system, with a major focus on legislation such as the Violence Against Women Act and the push for hate-crimes laws to include gender and sexual orientation.[3] On the micro/personal level, I have repeatedly seen white, class-privileged feminists unhesitatingly call upon police to protect and serve them; have listened to white feminists advise each other on which “authorities” to go to for protection from stalkers and other abusers; and so on.[4]

At both the macro level of feminist movement strategy and the micro/personal level of individual actions, I’m struck by the apparent lack of awareness of the prominent critiques made by feminists of color of law-and-order approaches to ending (or, even, finding “safety” from) violence. To be a self-identified feminist activist apparently unaware of (or, worse, deliberately skirting) the current work of not only INCITE! but also feminist icons like Angela Davis and numerous other voices calling for abolition of the prison industrial complex as a key element of social change seems to me to be part of a movement that is not only disconnected from but also damaging to some of the most vibrant and potentially liberating social-justice organizing happening today.

There’s no doubt that Hoffman’s rhetoric is inflammatory. And it’s not limited to talk of our prison nation — she indicts white feminists’ responses to immigration too. While it would be a mistake to say that I endorse everything Hoffman has to say (and I am sure that LSRJ would not organizationally echo her anger), she is very right to point out that at the moments where mainstream feminism and the rights/interests of other, marginalized groups have intersected, we as feminists have often not taken these other groups into full account.

Perhaps this is the affliction of every activist group — that its interests should always come first. But if feminism is to stay current in the fluid and intersectional world that is the present moment (see: Barack Obama), feminists have to do a better job of considering the complexities of our society before putting our significant political capital into action.

When I tell people that I am interested in both criminal justice and reproductive justice, they often look at me askance, or raise their eyebrows.  Don’t these two fields clash a lot, they ask? Well, yes, in some ways. But women’s health advocates and prison reform activists have more in common than many might think. Beyond the fact that there are more women in prison than ever before because women’s incarceration rates have skyrocketed since the beginning of the so-called “war on drugs,” women’s lives are effected by high prison rates in multiple other ways. Feministing’s Samhita draws the connections in her most recent (and last) post on the Nation’s Passing Through.  One reason, she says, that the women’s health and anti-incarceration movements need to start talking to each other is that women’s STD rates are exponentially higher in communities that have the highest incarceration rates, even in women who are not engaging in so-called risky behavior. A recent Washington Post Op-Ed has more:

One obvious reason is that conversations about sexual behavior, race and sexually transmitted infections remain taboo. Another is that the incidence of many STDs, particularly HIV, is concentrated in poor, segregated neighborhoods that are characterized by high rates of incarceration. Inner-city populations of African Americans and Latinos account for almost two-thirds of the 2.2 million Americans in prison nationwide, and two disturbing trends are increasingly present in these communities.  

One is the shift in the patterns of marriage and courtship that result when so many men are removed from a community. The other is an increase in the number of “multiple concurrent sexual partnerships,” in which individuals are engaged in sexual relationships with more than one person at a time. In many communities, when one sexual partner is imprisoned, the person left behind chooses another partner. When widespread, this behavior creates an efficient, effective pattern for introducing and maintaining an STD through a network of sexual relationships. 

As the Op-Ed, written by two public health academics, later notes, we as a society ignore the fallout of our addiction to incarceration at the peril of our health — and particularly of women’s health.  But the op-ed gets something seriously wrong:  it suggests that we can place blame for the high rates of HIV and other STDs at the feet of the women left behind when their men are dragged off to jail. We shouldn’t be placing blame on the community at all. And as Samhita rightly notes, it’s not quite so simple:

High rates of incarceration has such deleterious side effects that we have only begun to understand. Beyond dismantling and shaming entire communities, the onslaught of emasculating practices via police has created greater threats to masculinity, which backfire in the form of unsafe sexual practices, multiple partners and in its extreme form, rape.  

It may be true that, as some claim, the feminist/women’s health movement fanned the flames of the incarceration fury — particularly in the 1990s with the push toward victim’s rights. But it’s time to move beyond the divisive past and start to work from our commonality — that women and men, both inside and outside the prison walls, deserve better. 

I (your regular blogger) am traveling this week, so in my stead we’ve got a great guest post from another law student leader in LSRJ….

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This is a slight departure from the current events/political slant usually taken by this blog.  It’s more personal in nature- I’ve been thinking about what the connection is between being a law student and being a reproductive justice advocate, and this is one of those connections for me.  The thought stemmed from a discussion I had with my law professor who led the legal clinic I worked in last semester, which provided services for low-income families:

Law professor: you have a really great, distinctive counseling style.  Where did that come from?
Lowly law student:  hmmm…actually, it came from working in an abortion clinic.

I started working in the clinic right after college, while trying to figure out the next steps in my life.  I was a counselor.  Every day the waiting room would fill with women and girls, mostly pregnant and not wanting to be.  I would meet with them after their lab work and sonogram confirmed the pregnancy and how far along they were.  It was my job to learn about their situations, discuss their options, and support their decision- in short, to be an advocate.  Here’s what it taught me that will make me a better lawyer:

•    Start with an open ended-question.  Both at the abortion clinic and the legal clinic, that was usually, “Could you tell me about what brought you here today?”  Allowing people to tell their story is incredibly important.
•    People in crisis need someone to be calm.  Having an abortion can be an incredibly stressful experience, and so can walking into a lawyer’s office for the first time.  Many women seeking an abortion, and many people seeking the help of a lawyer, have been living in perpetual crisis for some time.  Providing a measured, sympathetic presence is one of the most important things an advocate can do.
•    The best way to figure out what’s really going on is just to let someone talk, with an occasional question or reflection.  Immediately launching into a speech, a list of options, or interrupting someone is a sure way to mask the true situation and shut someone down.
•    A problem does not stand on its own.  A woman may come into the clinic because she is dealing with an unplanned pregnancy, but may also be dealing with other issues, such as lack of child care, an ill parent, or an abusive relationship.  These problems may be keeping her from being able to deal with the immediate problem.  The same thing happens in legal situations- a client may come into a lawyer’s office for a divorce, a will, or to sell a piece of property, but is simultaneously dealing with multiple other issues.  It is the responsibility of the advocate to find out what else is going on, and address the problems together, because that’s how they got to be problems in the first place.
•    Time constraints are real.  Sometimes you might have only 15 minutes with a client.  However, when working at the abortion clinic I learned to never be afraid to ask the client to come back before taking action.  If your instinct says, “something isn’t right here,” you’re probably correct.  At the abortion clinic it often meant that someone (a boyfriend, a husband, a mother) was pressuring the woman into having an abortion, and she wasn’t ready yet.  In a legal context, it could mean that you haven’t had time to fully explore what is going on with the client, and if someone needs to end the meeting, you should make a follow-up appointment rather than rushing into something without all the information.
•    Sometimes you have to ask for help.  If there’s a situation you don’t know how to handle, there’s almost always someone to talk to about it.
•    This isn’t about the advocate, it’s about the client.  Trust their judgment.  They’re the one who has to live with the decision.

So there you go.  Want to be a better lawyer?  Work in an abortion clinic.

The first-ever national study of four common sexually transmitted diseases (or STDs) (HPV, Chlamydia, Genital Herpes, and Trichomoniasis) among girls and women was released yesterday. And the results were eye-opening: at least one-in-four girls are infected with one of the four diseases surveyed. Among Black girls between the ages of 14-19, the percentage shoots up to about half.

According to the NY Times, the Centers for Disease Control reacted by calling “for strengthen[ed] screening, vaccination and other prevention measures for the diseases, which are among the highest public health priorities.”

Yes, that’s right. But let’s not beat around the bush here. We don’t just need “prevention measures,” if prevention measures means more abstinence-only “education”. We need comprehensive sex education so that teens–who, let’s face it, are likely to be sexually active at some point before marriage–know how to prevent the transmission of STDs and learn how to protect themselves. C

ecile Richards, Planned Parenthood’s current leader, put it well: “The national policy of promoting abstinence-only programs is a $1.5 billion failure,” Ms. Richards said, “and teenage girls are paying the real price.”

Yes, it is girls and women who are paying the price. And it’s not the price for having sex or for attending comprehensive sex ed, if they were lucky enough to have it, as some on the anti-sex, anti-woman, anti-abortion bandwagon would have us believe. It’s the price for living in a country (or rather, under a regime) that does not respect women’s sexuality.

The Wall Street Journal can argue all it wants that these numbers are not alarming once we dig a little deeper, and that the prevalence of HPV in young women shouldn’t get us too worked up. But it does. And it should. It should get us worked up enough to push our states to reject abstinence only funding (if they haven’t already) and to institute real, comprehensive sex education.

The other day, Iowa became the 17th state to reject federal abstinence-only dollars. The state will continue to refuse funding until and unless the federal government makes significant changes to the program. The other 16 states include New York, Ohio, New Jersey, Wisconsin, Montana and Connecticut, among others. New York had previously received the second largest amount of any state of federal abstinence only dollars.

As it currently stands, recipients of federal Title V abstinence-only funding are required to adhere to strict guidelines. The program requires states receiving the funding to adhere to the following requirements:

In case it’s not apparent, there are significant problems with this definition. As SIECUS explains, “This definition ensures that young people who have already engaged in sexual activity, those have been sexually abused, or those living in nontraditional households are not only denied critical health information but are presented with shame- and fear-based messages. Other groups of young people, such as gay and lesbian youth, are ignored completely.”

Yup. And the rejection of these ideas was really needed in Iowa, where some of the federal (and state matching) funding had been used to pay for a huge roadside billboard featuring a picture of a pregnant woman who was not wearing a wedding ring. The billboard read: “Wait for the bling.”

Certainly there’s nothing wrong with encouraging teens to wait to have sex until they are ready. But using federal dollars to pay for misogynist, patriarchal, patronizing ads like this one goes way beyond simply encouraging kids to wait until they are ready. Especially ironic is that, while abstinence only programs encourage waiting until marriage (for just about everything), they don’t provide people with the education necessary to prevent pregnancy should they decide to become sexually active. Abstinence-only programs are not just anti-woman, anti-gay, and anti-abortion. They’re also anti-sexuality, full stop. They suggest that sexuality is a failing. But what’s failing are these programs, which have not been proven to reduce rates of teenage sex. And they’re far out of step with public opinion, which heavily supports comprehensive sex ed (which includes abstinence).

Given the weight of public opinion, and the fact that more than 1/3 of states have now rejected the federal funding, I’ve got to wonder at what point the scales will tip. The Democratic congress has not yet had the political will to reduce or end Title V and the other abstinence-only funding streams. But the point at which Congress will have no choice but to do so — the tipping point to borrow from Gladwell – now seems closer than ever.