This February, the National Network of Abortion Funds is featuring Black leaders in Reproductive Justice who have organized at the intersections of Reproductive Justice and Black liberation, including Black leaders in abortion funds!
We invite you to spend Black History Month envisioning a world that dismantles harmful systems, lifting up and centering those who are marginalized, and strengthening our movements through dialogue, storytelling, and intentional conversations. This campaign for Black Reproductive Justice leaders also connects to the Heart-to-Heart Abortion Conversations we’re having during February that will be a catalyst towards making our vision for abortion access possible. Here’s what we have coming…
Black and Bold Expansion Pack for our Heart-to-Heart Abortion Cards
Download, print, and use these cards with friends and groups who want to explore topics of Black liberation and Reproductive Justice! The cards will help build some knowledge and open up important questions about what we can do to lift up Black leadership. Here are some responses from Black leaders on NNAF’s staff!
When I was five or six, I remember my Aunt coming to live with us. She had a baby and was pregnant, and she worked in the agricultural fields where chemicals were sprayed. My aunt would bring the baby with her to work when she couldn’t find childcare. I think sometimes when my family had to figure out how to put food on the table, they didn’t have the capacity to worry too much about how chemicals might impact children. And honestly, I think the bosses withheld the risks of the chemicals from the employees. My family was doing their best just as I am sure I will do my best when I am a parent. But I have more income than both of my parents combined, and consequently, the resources and knowledge to better safeguard my family. I often think about what it means for my children that our circumstances will allow me to be mindful about decisions as simple as choosing the bug spray I purchase during summer months. These choices shouldn’t be a luxury though. Everyone at every income level deserves access to a safe environment, especially little ones.
I am a Creole Black woman who is racially ambiguous and benefits from light-skinned privilege and passing privilege. Colorism is certainly a symptom of anti-blackness, and it assists to violently uplift the white supremacist falsehood that one’s value and one’s right to livelihood is determined by how light or dark your skin is.
One of the ways in which anti-blackness has caused me and my community harm is through historical trauma via European imperialism. I am the child of West African immigrants who were born and raised under European colonial rule, which certainly carries transgenerational effects. Our land, our bodies, our labor, and our resources have been exploited in the name of white supremacist capitalism for centuries. Our history, our identity, and our image as African people and African descendants have been distorted and slandered to propel an ahistorical account of another group’s superiority.
I did know that doulas were/are an important function in the birthing process; however, was not aware that having a doula lowers the rate of deaths especially those in urban low-income households. Knowing this information, makes me wonder why despite knowing this information the idea of having a doula isn’t more widespread knowledge? Why are brown people continually NOT being told that not only are there services that exist to help ensure their children are born healthy, but also that these services can be provide for free or low-cost to them.