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Written January and February 2021

Why I support and defend Planned Parenthood—despite its racist past

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 1

Note: I will be using “people with uteruses” at times in lieu of “women,” to be inclusive of trans men, nonbinary folk, and others within the LGBTQ+ community with uteruses and who are able to get pregnant, have abortions, etc.

It’s been more than two months now since Amy Coney Barrett was sworn onto the highest court in the land. While there are plenty of things about Barrett that are a cause for concern for just about anyone who isn’t an evangelical conservative, her staunch stance against abortion is one of, if not the, most frightening. With the court’s conservative supermajority—which Joe Biden already seems hesitant to fix once he takes office—many greatly fear that Roe v. Wade may soon be put on the chopping block.

There is a long string of receipts to back up these concerns. Barrett was a member of an anti-abortion faculty group while teaching at the University of Notre Dame. She signed a letter written by her Indiana church strongly criticizing abortion. And she’s made it clear that she doesn’t think Roe should be a superprecedent—meaning it should remain open to challenge or debate.

As a radical Black feminist, reproductive rights are not only a crucial issue for me, but a personal one. I know several people who have received abortions, and would have faced extreme, detrimental challenges in their lives if they had not been able to terminate their unwanted pregnancy. From the stories I’ve seen on social media, there are countless other people who have faced similar situations around the world, exemplifying the importance of the right to choose.

While I myself have never needed an abortion, I have a soft spot in my heart for the organization continuously brought up in the abortion debate: Planned Parenthood. Two years ago, their Charlottesville clinic helped me fix numerous health issues, putting an end to the months of pain I had endured, all while treating me with the utmost care and kindness. And because of a special government program for young people (that was unfortunately cut by the Trump administration), all of my services were completely free.

However, Planned Parenthood remains a controversial organization, even for some people who support abortion rights. It would be unforthcoming of me to not acknowledge its troubled past—particularly its ties to eugenics—and complicated relationship with the Black community, which anti-abortion groups and politicians have used for decades to justify overturning Roe.

When I was still under my parents’ conservative thumb as a teenager, hearing snippets of Planned Parenthood’s past and present led me to believe it was bad news, especially for Black people. But by doing my own reading and research throughout college, and visiting one of their clinics for myself, I realized they were just that—snippets.

Learning the full story, I’ve become a staunch supporter and defender of Planned Parenthood, despite its racist past. And with the many more battles it’s expected to soon face, I hope you are too.

 

Did Margaret Sanger, founder of Planned Parenthood, support eugenics?

 

Well, yes and no.

Working as a nurse for immigrant families in the Lower East Side, Sanger, born in 1879, witnessed countless working class women suffer the tragic consequences of not having access to safe, affordable birth control. They often had more children than they wanted—and could afford—to have, and rarely received assistance from the government or community. Many turned to unsafe contraceptive or abortion methods, leaving them with painful health complications, or even killing them.

During this time, birth control was legally banned under Comstock, or obscenity, laws, and was accessible under-the-table mainly to the white upper class. Understanding the many benefits of contraception, Sanger believed everyone—regardless of their race, class, or other part of their identity—deserved the ability to choose if they wanted to have children, when to have them, and how many to have, in turn giving them more control over their health and economic conditions. For decades, she fought to overturn obscenity laws, as well as opened birth control clinics, created voluntary family planning programs, and championed the scientific study and approval of revolutionary contraceptive methods, like the birth control pill.

But while working to gain public support for her ideas, she formed ties to eugenics, a popular yet very much racist 20th century movement. It ultimately sought to “improve” the human race by breeding out “undesirable” traits, like criminality and disease, and received widespread support from doctors, intellectuals, scientists, and regular folk of various races. This dangerous pseudoscience led to the forced sterilization of thousands of people deemed “mentally unfit” to reproduce, as well as disabled, Black, Indigenous, Latinx, poor, and “promiscuous” people, among other marginalized groups. While sterilizing people without their consent is technically illegal today, people in prisons and detention centers continue to be tricked and coerced into this permanent, life-altering procedure.

While running the predecessor to Planned Parenthood, Sanger welcomed several prominent eugenicists onto its board, as well as spoke at eugenics conferences. She agreed that women of “low intelligence” should be paid pensions if they submit to sterilization, and even endorsed the infamous Buck v. Bell decision. Perhaps most chilling, she wrote in 1921 that “the most urgent problem today is how to limit and discourage the over-fertility of the mentally and physically defective”—just one example of her ableist rhetoric.

Yet much of Sanger’s activism and work shows that she did not identify with the racist and classist pillars of the eugenics movement. She did not believe Black and brown people, alongside poor whites, were innately unfit to reproduce, or that they were genetically inferior. Instead, she recognized and witnessed the struggles these marginalized communities endured due to racism, xenophobia, capitalism, and other oppressive systems. She knew that resources like birth control and reproductive health care, preventing unplanned and unwanted pregnancies, would ultimately improve their quality of life, and help lift them out of poverty.

In fact, Sanger is believed to have had fairly progressive views on race for her time. She did not agree with discrimination or segregation, leading her to open an integrated clinic in Harlem in the early 1930s, which received support from several notable Black leaders like W.E.B. Du Bois. Despite what critics may say today, this clinic, along with future ones, did not target or coerce Black patients in the area into receiving birth control—about half of its patients were white. Contraception also did not go unwanted in Black neighborhoods; beginning as early as the 1920s, Black people began creating leagues in support of the birth control movement. And while New Deal health programs outright discriminated against Black Americans, Sanger facilitated—with the help of the likes of Mary McLeod Bethune and Eleanor Roosevelt—free birth control and maternal health programs in the South, dubbed the “Negro Project.”

Today, Black nationalists, hoteps, and anti-abortion proponents claim this project is “proof” Sanger was trying to wipe out the Black race, pointing to an admittedly poorly worded line in one of her private letters: “We do not want word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population.” But these critics intentionally leave out the rest of Sanger’s sentence: “the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members.” To make ensure that Black people knew her birth control programs were safe and voluntary—especially when they had every right to be afraid of being sterilized without their consent, among other infamous examples of medical racism—she recruited a range of Black leaders, including ministers, doctors, and social workers, to support the “Negro Project”. While her words were undoubtedly rooted in white paternalism, it’s unfortunate—and ironic—that this one line, emphasizing how the birth control movement was not a nefarious eugenics scheme, ended up being used incorrectly to claim Sanger endorsed Black genocide.

 

Notably, Sanger’s support of struggling families did not stop with giving them birth control. She also advocated for a variety of social safety nets, including public health programs, and was against racist immigration bans. She ultimately believed that all people had the right to a better life, and rebelled against the eugenicists who disapproved of giving birth control to those with “desirable” traits, i.e. the white middle and upper class, who they believed needed to have more children in order to “advance” humanity.

Some historians claim Sanger joined the eugenics movement mainly as a tactic, since it was incredibly popular and respected at the time, and would help her gain more support for birth control. On one hand it’s understandable—simply talking about contraception, better yet distributing it, was illegal and taboo for decades in most states, and Sanger had an incredibly difficult task at hand as she worked to dramatically sway public opinion. Getting as much support as possible from eugenics supporters, whether they were bigoted or not, was a smart political move, and surely helped her cause.

 

But on the other hand, that still does not excuse the generations of harm and trauma, from ableism to racism, Sanger undoubtedly helped perpetuate with her rhetoric and actions, as well as her ties with prominent eugenicists. Nearly a century later, her problematic background has undoubtedly left a tarnish on her revolutionary creation: Planned Parenthood.

Part 2

Hasn’t Planned Parenthood caused a “Black genocide”?

 

Again, this is a complicated subject—but still largely taken out of context, and skewed by anti-abortion critics.

According to numerous studies, low-income women and women of color do have higher abortion rates than those who are white, or of higher socioeconomic status. While abortions have declined over the past 15 years among all races, Black women in particular continue to have the highest abortion rate—27.1 per 1,000 reproductive-age women, compared to 10 per 1,000 for white women of the same age range.

However, there is a range of socioeconomic disparities that clearly explains these higher abortion rates. Living under a corrupt, inequitable for-profit healthcare system, Black Americans, especially those who are low-income, are less likely to have health insurance—and, in turn, access to affordable reproductive health care services, like birth control and family planning. Without these crucial preventative measures, Black people experience a higher amount of unintended pregnancies.

(Abortion rates aside, Black people are less likely to have quality health care, food equity, and healthy living and work environments, among other health necessities. Combine that with the perpetual trauma of living under systemic racism, and it is no wonder that Black people disproportionately suffer from a range of health issues, from high blood pressure to obesity!)

Inadequate sex education—along with centuries of medical racism—is also a huge driver of Black abortions. Black people are more likely to be skeptical of contraception, and distrustful of the health care system in general, a blatant consequence of eugenics, as well as the racism Black people continue to endure in health care today (most notably, the high Black maternal mortality rate). Still, there are plenty of Black adolescents today who are open to contraception, but learn very little about it, and, in turn, are less likely to use it properly, compared to their white peers.

From my own personal experience, I know that a part of this problem is that sex education is still largely viewed as taboo in the Black community, which must be addressed in a variety of ways. (Hell, my own parents didn’t teach me anything about sex, other than to not have it until I was married!) But for now, let’s place a majority of the blame upon the biggest provider of sex eduction outside of the home: public schools. While 37 states require that abstinence is included in sex education courses, only 18 require teachers to share information about birth control. In other words, millions upon millions of horny teens are learning absolutely nothing about preventing unwanted pregnancy!

The remaining notable factors behind the Black abortion rate can, again, be attributed to systemic racism and oppression. Black people face poorer educational and economic opportunities, which have only been exacerbated by racist atrocities like the school-to-prison pipeline and mass incarceration. According to the most recent stats, nearly 19 percent of Black Americans live below the poverty line, while the median Black family income hovers around $45,000—these numbers undoubtedly much worse now due to the pandemic. With far from enough support from our country’s deeply flawed social safety net, Black people often get abortions simply because they cannot afford to have a child, or an additional one.

In addition to not taking any socioeconomic statistics into account, the “Black genocide” myth plays directly into misogyny, suggesting that Black women and others with uteruses are being coerced into getting abortions, and are not able to make these difficult decisions for themselves. It also ignores the existence of abortion well throughout Black history, long before the creation of Planned Parenthood. As Shyrissa Dobbins-Harris explains in ‘The Myth of Abortion as Black Genocide: Reclaiming our Reproductive Cycle’, “prior to the legalization of abortion in 1973, many Blackwomen participated in the underground abortion movement throughout the United States. One network, called Jane, provided safe and affordable abortions by women who learned how to perform the procedure themselves, and then charged less than other, often less safe, practitioners. [Even] after Roe, Blackwomen continued to provide and advocate for safe abortions.”

 

With all of this important context, it is clear that there is no evil plot concocted by Planned Parenthood—or other abortion providers—to target Black communities. In fact, around 60 percent of abortion clinics are located in majority white neighborhoods, while fewer than one in ten are in neighborhoods where more than half of the residents are Black. Yet we continue to see conservatives, both Black and white, claim that Planned Parenthood is “wiping out” the Black race, and must be defunded.

In reality, restricting legal abortions by defunding Planned Parenthood, among other harmful tactics, will only worsen racial disparities. Many Black people with uteruses in need of abortions will have no choice but to seek illegal “back-alley” ones, or perform it themselves, which can be incredibly dangerous and deadly. Others may decide to carry out their unwanted pregnancy, but will now have a child who they are unable or unprepared to adequately care for, having a negative impact on the child. These parents are also more likely to face a range of economic and social difficulties. Meanwhile, the largely white upper class will be able to easily travel to independent, expensive abortion clinics, or even another country where abortion is easily accessible.

For anti-abortion critics, there is always one go-to answer: adoption. Why don’t all of these Black people with unwanted pregnancies just have their babies, and offer them to parents who want them? That question deserves a whole separate essay, but to be frank—the foster care and adoption system is extremely overwhelmed and underfunded. Black kids in the system repeatedly face discrimination, and are less likely to be adopted. Spending years in foster care is ultimately known to cause severe emotional and mental health issues—leading to devastating consequences like suicide, incarceration, and substance abuse down the road.

Instead of raging against Planned Parenthood, the “pro-life” crowd should be working to address all of the underlying factors driving a significant portion of Black abortions. If they really cared about stopping abortions, they would create and instill political policies that actually tackle these systemic issues—yet they continue to support backwards “abstinence only” sex ed, and rebuke crucial solutions like Medicare for All.

In order to truly reduce Black abortion rates, we need a range of sweeping progressive policies that will prevent unwanted pregnancies, and greatly improve the quality of life for Black people. We must require standardized comprehensive sex education—explicitly teaching young people how to use birth control, prevent STIs, and foster healthy relationships—at all schools across the country. There also must be free and affordable after school programs that remind young people of safe sexual practices, and keep them engaged in positive relationships, activities, and opportunities.

We must also provide universal healthcare, which must include free reproductive services like birth control, and a drastic increase in health care providers in Black neighborhoods. At the same time, this new system must work hard to eliminate discrimination in health care, and address the explicit needs and concerns of Black patients. They must not feel coerced or forced into limiting the number of children they have, as has been done in the past, and sadly continues today.

Outside of heath care, there must be an increase in social safety nets, especially for low income parents, combined with a major improvement in economic conditions for Black Americans, from implementing a living wage to providing free higher education to mandating paid parental leave. Children are expensive to properly care for—people must have enough money and resources to feel comfortable and ready to have them!

Yet no matter how many preventative policies or strategies are implemented, abortion will always be a need. Sometimes people know all about birth control and have plenty of it available, but accidents happen (broken condom, skipped a birth control pill, etc.), and end in unwanted pregnancy. Others are unfortunately victims of rape or incest, and should never be forced to carry out their pregnancy. And, what is often not talked about, there are people who want to have a child, but experience such severe pregnancy complications that without an abortion, they will die.

In turn, abortion providers must open significantly more locations across the country, especially in underserved areas. Abortions must also be made affordable or free, covered by health insurance (or under Medicare for All, public funding). Even at Planned Parenthood, abortions can cost hundreds of dollars, even over a thousand, a highly unnecessary barrier. And most timely, we must fight back against any and every restrictive measure on abortions—from waiting periods to heartbeat bills—that roil the lives of so many poor Black people today.

Part 3

OK, what good things has Planned Parenthood done then?

 

This Black genocide rhetoric is not only full of lies and misconceptions, but blatantly ignores the positive impact Planned Parenthood’s free and affordable health care services have had over the past century, and continue to have to this day.

Per the nonprofit’s latest annual report, approximately 90 percent of its services offered from 2018 to 2019 were preventative health care. 26 percent were contraception, while 6 percent were cancer screenings, 26 percent were other health services, and 50 percent were STI screenings. In other words, its 600 clinics nationwide helped its around 2.4 million patients—who are mostly at or below the federal poverty line, and typically do not have health insurance—to not only prevent unwanted pregnancies, but to stay safe and healthy.

The sharp drop in teen pregnancy rates directly reflects the impact of publicly funded family planning clinics, like Planned Parenthood. According to the Pew Research Center, the teen birth rate in 2018—around 17.4 births per 1,000 teens—was less than half of what it had been in 2008, thanks to more sexually active teens gaining access to free and affordable (and confidential) contraceptive services. While I have more than plenty of qualms with Barack Obama, I have to give credit where it’s due: the Affordable Care Act helped to expand private and public health insurance coverage for family planning during those years.

And, of course, there are Planned Parenthood’s abortion services, which have not only prevented many people from enduring the countless challenges that come with unplanned pregnancy and parenting, but also from trying to terminate their pregnancies themselves. While self-induced abortion can potentially be done safely, like with high-quality abortion pills, there are many risk factors that can make it dangerous, or even deadly. When abortion providers like Planned Parenthood lose funding, the need for abortions ultimately does not go away; people will take their chances, and seek less safe abortion methods.

When defending Planned Parenthood, advocates often emphasize that only around 4 percent of its annual services offered are abortions, and that federal money is not used to fund them (except in rare circumstances). I agree that is a fair argument to make; through its educational and contraception programs, Planned Parenthood has prevented countless unwanted pregnancies, and the need for abortions. However, focusing on this statistic can further stigmatize abortions and those who receive them, portraying them as a transgressive, reprehensible minority. This negative perception, in turn, can discourage people who need abortions from safely seeking them. Instead, as we demand Medicare for All, we should advocate for federally funded, easily accessible abortion services and clinics, along with the rest of reproductive services.

Outside of its clinics, Planned Parenthood is heavily involved in education and advocacy. As the largest provider of sex education in the country, it sends educators into schools, community centers, and other key locations to teach comprehensive, inclusive courses on healthy sexual practices. With all of the anti-abortion laws and court battles ravaging a range of states, it also is constantly lobbying politicians, organizing events and protests, and hosting fundraisers to protect and expand reproductive rights.

Today, Planned Parenthood is making a significant effort to address its problematic founder, and her strong ties to the eugenics movement. Though its leadership has defended Sanger’s well-intentioned work, the national organization issued a fact sheet condemning her bigoted beliefs and actions in 2016. And last year, Planned Parenthood of Greater New York finally removed Sanger’s name from its Manhattan clinic, in an effort to strengthen its relationship with the Black community, and recognize the many Black women who have spearheaded the reproductive justice movement.

 

I admit, Planned Parenthood still has a long way to go to erase the tarnish Sanger has left on it. Her name should be removed from all of the buildings named after her, and replaced with those of reproductive rights activists of color. Her harmful history should be correctly presented in exhibits, museums, and other educational arenas. There ultimately must be great work put into uplifting all of the marginalized groups persecuted by eugenists, including Black, disabled, and queer folk. However, we can hold the organization to higher standards, all while acknowledging and supporting it for its extraordinary work. Because without our defense, the damage caused by anti-abortion attacks—from closed-down clinics to heartbeat bills—will only get worse.

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