SisterSong Salutes the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on the Anniversary of Roe vs. Wade

SisterSong salutes the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his tireless efforts to foster a human rights movement here in the United States. He believed in an America where all oppressed people should have a voice and eradicate the injustice of discrimination. As a SisterSong member, activist, organizer, and friend it is important for you to remember Dr. King's commitment to human rights, in general, and women's rights in particular. As today marks the 37th Anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, we recognize the profound impact that both the life of Dr. King and the landmark decision of Roe vs. Wade had on communities of color seeking better lives and human rights protection under law. SisterSong is proud to be a leader in the human rights movement by fighting for the human rights of all women though our Reproductive Justice framework. We commemorate this great man's legacy through our education, advocacy, and organizing efforts of Indigenous women and women of color throughout the U.S.

In 1966, Dr. King wrote that family planning was a "special and urgent concern" for African Americans and was "a profoundly important ingredient in [our] quest for security and a decent life."(Solinger, 177) Additionally, in 1977 Coretta Scott noted, "Despite some gains made in the past 200 years...man-made barriers, laws, social customs and prejudices continue to keep a majority of women in an inferior position without full control of our lives and bodies." Both of these icons knew that the lives of women mattered and understood the need for a new agenda that prioritized the lives of women.

In that vein, we also remember Pauline Shirley, Rosie Jimenez, and Becky Bell whose lives were cut short due to illegal/self-induced abortions.
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* In 1940, Pauline Shirley, a Black married mother of six, died after having an illegal abortion in Arizona. After she began hemorrhaging, her mother took her to the hospital. She bled to death while waiting for a blood transfusion.

* In 1977, Rosie Jimenez was the first woman to die from a self-induced abortion after the Hyde Amendment was passed, which cut off Medicaid funding to women on public assistance. Unable to pay for a private procedure at a private clinic, she died from a botched illegal abortion.

* In 1988, Becky Bell was a young victim of an Indiana state law that required parental consent for a minor to obtain an abortion. Too afraid to tell her parents, she sought an illegal abortion. She died at the age of 17 from massive infections.
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These women were denied their human right to abortion. Their tragic lack of control over their lives fuels our demand for Reproductive Justice for all women. "Dr. King began the Human Rights Movement. We are the Women's Rights arm of that movement," states SisterSong's National Coordinator Loretta Ross. "As we celebrate Roe during MLK week we must always remember that women of color are the most vulnerable. Before Roe, 76% of all septic abortions resulting in death consisted of women of color, specifically Black and Latina." So in 2010, let us honor the legacy of this civil rights leader by securing Reproductive Justice for all.

I Trust Me, But Can I Trust You?

At the age of 15, I had my first lesson on the contradictions of the word “trust”, particularly the African American community. For most of my life, it seemed like the concept of trust was a friendly understanding - an unspoken child-parental agreement, if you will. Both of my parents provided for my sister and I, and while I didn’t have everything I wanted, all of my needs were met. My parents simply required that I go to church, be respectful of my elders, love my family, and make good grades. As a post-civil rights baby I had an obligation to excel, not just for my individual success but as the only African American often in privileged circles. No brainers, right? I excelled at those requests and I was trusted. Life seemed golden - for the moment.

But when I turned 16, the tide turned for s0me reason. Although I was trusted to make good grades, have perfect attendance at school, be a perfect daughter and grandchild, as I matured romantically and sexually that trust began to wane. For the slow reader: I met a hot guy at my 16th birthday party who was a senior in high school, and they weren’t having it. So began our journey down this path of “Conditional trust factors.”

“I trust you completely, I just don’t trust him/them/the world,” was the adage I heard for the next two years. And so began my true understanding of their meaning of trust. I was to be held responsible for what others MIGHT do – ill-intended or not. Translation: I trust you to do exactly what I want you to do.

So to say I was rebellious after my 16th birthday would be a gross understatement. But my mother endured, and I gave her hell the entire way. She wanted to teach me the value of trust by demanding that I trusted her to keep me safe - physically, sexually, psychologically, and spiritually. Her increased demands drove my further rebellion. And as my chest grew, my hips widened and the boys’ heads began to turn, she waged her own morality campaign. Her approach? Stricter rules, shorter curfews, and hard core church. The result? I equated the concept of trust with “control”. Someone else's control of my body, mind, and spirituality, despite the reality that I was still complying with the original requests to succeed in all the other areas she had asked me to - go to church, be respectful of my elders, love my family, and make good grades. It was clear to me then that being trusted to make good choices was not necessarily predicated on trustworthiness. There needed to be a spirit of submission – a willingness to allow, and in some instance enjoy the efforts, of the one attempting to do the controlling.

By the time I got to college, like everyone around me I tried to define my own reality, proving to myself (and possibly my parents) that my trustworthiness was bigger than the realm of academics, community service, and church. Life was finding and developing new relationships, having the experiences too taboo in a small southern town, but essential to urban living. Through a series of breakups, breakdowns, breakups, loving, hating, persevering - trust became the new “self forgiveness” that I needed to define myself. I had learned to trust myself not as an African American, but as a woman- my choices, my desires, my fears and metabolize how all those feelings intermingled with one another made for my fabulous, yet complicated life. With forgiveness came “compassion”, compassion for myself and compassion for others.

Now I am proudly in my 30’s harnessing the gifts of forgiveness and compassion, I have learned that to trust others is directly linked to the compassion I have for my own experiences – happiness, joy, love, acceptance, and commitment. I know that trusting others begins with me trusting the best in myself and ultimately humanity. Trusting others means allowing he/she to make the best choices for his/her life with the resources they have available, even if it is a bad decision. It’s how I learned to trust myself. Trusting other women means I trust me – trusting that I can make good decisions, powerful changes, and learn from my mistakes.
Can I trust you?

A Black Girl Named Heidi
In honor of the 37th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade

A Moment of Truth

I am exhausted...When I woke up this morning at 6 am ready to take my delegation of southern women to Capitol Hill to lobby for health care reform, I thought my exhaustion was a matter of anxiety from having worked non-stop for the last 5 days to pull off this amazing day of advocacy. But as I stepped out of my hotel room to head downstairs to breakfast, two things hit me -- HARD!

First, Massachusetts elected Scott Brown to fill the late Edward Kennedy's Senate seat. The second? It is exactly one year to the day that I was in Washington DC watching the inauguration of President Barack Obama. And unfortunately, both weighed on me heavily.

I will deal with the 'worst first', as my Jewish PE Teacher used to say. Scott Brown's election compounded the enormous loss I already felt from the death of Senator Kennedy. My feelings did not ebb as reports blared all day about how 'healthcare is dead'. Depending on who you talk to that is not necessarily a bad thing. Don't get me wrong, I want comprehensive health care but the thought of passing a bill that excludes critical components necessary for women and communities to realize their human right to comprehensive healthcare is troubling, to say the least. But back to Scott Brown. His win in my opinion is a part of the local push back of election Barack Obama to office. And it is a feeling unfortunately that I believe we will have to get used to, at least for the mid-term elections. I know, I know, those of you who know me are saying, "As a Southerner you should be used to it." Well, I am not.

That being said, I have been trying to put my finger on the other emotions driving me toward exhaustion today. Enter President Obama. While qualifying my emotions today is a challenge, I think back on the one clear moment where my emotions were real, clear, and unspeakably authentic - Jan. 20, 2009, Inauguration Day. And what I felt in that moment is not what I feel at this moment.

I dare not follow the lead of the national news anchors and grade President Obama. Its ridulous given there is truly no objective standard to formally grade a president. And polls are pointless. What I can say is this - the hope, elation, and adulation I felt in 2008 has waned a bit. I was so excited, I couldn't sleep on Election Night. I was so overwhelmed, I hosted dinner parties to have "Best Election Year Moments" recap. I was so inspired, I completed my first novel. So what is the problem now you ask? Is it his incessant need to pass "bi-partisan" legislation? Or his desire to make so many people(Constituencies) happy in such a short amount of time? Not at all. You have to live with a Leo to love them and truly understand them.:) He'll come down from that high.

My trepidation harkens back to something I heard at the King Day Celebration in Atlanta on Monday. Dr. Cornel West said, "Dr. King didn't sacrifice so that we could have black faces in high places. He sacrificed so that black faces in high places to hold the unjust to account and give voice to the least of these." While I don't think Barack is obligated to save the race, perhaps I unknowingly though that 365 days later African Americans would move closer to saving themselves. Nothing dramatic mind you, but small distinctive steps towards "greatness rather than success". (Another C. West-ism). And it's possible. I never thought I would be lobbying on the Hill a year later for a bill that no other president has come this close to passing. But where is everyone else? Where are the thousands of people last year who were so happy to see the first black man get elected to the highest office in the land shutting down Washington DC or their own districts for that matter to push HIS agenda? I am baffled.

So as I sit here in DC writing my first blog piece EVER, I am thinking about "moments of truth" and how we all must have one. As a country we must have one regarding health care reform and our moral obligation to provide for "the least of these". As a gender, women must have one regarding the distinctions that divide us in assumption, policy, and matters of conscience. As a race, African Americans must have a moment of truth regarding collective self love and our individual greatness, rather than success.

This is my moment of truth...I definitively believe that I am a divine change agent in this world. I have the ability to inspire others and the talents to encourage all those I engage. And I will. As my generation struggles to understand the great fallacy of success, I must continue to remind him/her/them along my journey that each of us has a divine purpose and the ability to realize our greatness. What will you do to change the world? A Black Girl Named Heidi