Men and Reproductive Justice
“Women must not only have the right to choose abortion, but also the right to choose to bring a child into this world and raise them in an environment free from violence. It’s a right that is demolished every time young people of color are questionably gunned down by the police” (Malachi, 2016). This quote from an article written by Leslie Watson Malachi for Cosmopolitan Magazine is not only relevant to this week’s unit or module, but to life at this very moment. Even though these sentiments were penned in 2016, it is still parallel to the cries of so many people right now around the entire world.
The fight for reproductive justice does not end once a healthy child is born. It should be of service to all and all the time. A major threat to the strides of the reproductive justice movement is the constant and blatant physical and mental violence inflicted upon men. Whether it is the unrealistic models society expects compares them to, the avoidance of including them in conversations about certain reproductive rights, or the manner in which they are abused and even killed by the very institutions that were meant to protect them — we can no longer ignore men when speaking and thinking about human rights issues.
I have been a feminist since before I knew what feminism was. For a considerable amount of time, I was one of those people who thought there was no place for cisgender and/or heterosexual (hereby referred to as cis-het) men in conversations that were primarily about women and queer people. I was ushered into feminism by my own personal immense compassion and interest in reproductive justice and LGBTQIA+ rights. So, I assumed — like many — that cis-het men had no right to even be apart of a dialogue about communities they did not represent or were apart of. While this is applicable to some instances in reproductive justice (or injustices), my outlooks from the past show a bias and perpetuation of the silence of men in a battle that is supposed to be of all and for all. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that you can care about and carry multiple things at once, even if they are heavy. Now that I have evolved in my experiences, conversations, and thinking, I realize that we live in a world where reproductive and societal fairness also means that men should not be subject to practices of the past that were meant to “toughen them up” or outcomes of the like.
In the article titled ‘Police Violence is a Reproductive Issue’ , Leslie Watson Malachi — director of African American Religious Affairs at People For the American Way Foundation — focuses on how the (televised and acknowledged) deaths of Black men at the hands of police in America is a direct threat to the livelihoods and psyche of so many people but especially their mothers. In this article, she names the mothers, significant others, and daughters of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, and Jordan Davis. These are the names of those who have either died at the hands of police or whose deaths were not shown any sort of justice or consequence.
This article is directly related to one of the popular writing educational materials of this unit that almost bears the same name. In the article titled ‘The Murder of Black Youth is a Reproductive Justice Issue’, Dani McClain poses a question that asks if the acknowledgment of the murder of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri can spark new conversations about choices, parenting, and family (McClain, 2014). Both of these articles eerily echo the chants being heard in streets, the quotes on protest posters, and the call to actions almost everywhere at this every moment. They are written two years apart but tell the stories of people generations before us and we hope generations after us won’t be able to relate. Black men in this country are seen as threats. Society tells all men that they have to be tough and have this persona that doesn’t welcome compassion or any form of vulnerability or perceived weakness. This has created a dangerous ecosystem that is full of aggression, sadness, and frustration.
Even outside of the realm of police brutality and systemic racism, queer men are also overlooked when analyzing inequalities in American society. Bisexual and pansexual men are constantly criticized and have their identities invalidated by society by labeling them “confused. And transsexual men face another layer of discrimination that goes beyond harsh words or criticisms — their rights to reproduce children are being infringed upon. In “The Pregnant Man”, Judith Halberstam gives the world a glimpse into the life of Thomas Beatle — a trans man who is pregnant. This story is a reflection of the change in the way we view masculinity, femininity and the American family. Trans people are no longer hiding in the shadows in fear that they won’t be accepted. Queer people and allies have created a community that welcomes all people regardless of demographic markers.
Thomas Beatle and his family did not want to become the model for sexual orientation and gender identity narratives. They wanted to show the world that regardless of all of the things that made us individuals, a lot of us still have the same wants and needs — in this case, it is to have a family. This article effected me the most this week because it is very easy to get caught up in the fight for injustices. I get so caught up in trying to celebrate our differences, I sometimes forget about our similarities. While it is important to see and accept people for who they are, it is also imperative to remember that we are all human. We want to live freely and be happy — that is at the root of every social justice movement.
As I type this, I am exhausted from a night of passing out pamphlets and information for protests and food drives around Chicago. I am preparing for a day of walking with hundreds — if not thousands — of people speaking out against police brutality and demanding change. I am recovering from days of unrest and overwhelming news about another occurrence. But still, none of these compare to the feelings of those who we are fighting for. I cannot call myself a feminist and say that I believe in reproductive justice if I don’t speak up and participate in conversations about things that are happening in my community. Reproductive justice does not only apply to women and unborn children — it applies to the ability of people to live freely and to just live.
Resources:
Halberstam, J. (2010). The Pregnant Man. The Velvet Light Trap, 65(1), 77–78. doi: 10.1353/vlt.0.0082
Malachi, L. W. (2017, October 8). Police Violence Is a Reproductive Justice Issue. Retrieved from https://www.cosmopolitan.com/politics/news/a61507/police-violence-reproductive-justice/
McClain, D. (2015, June 29). The Murder of Black Youth Is a Reproductive Justice Issue. Retrieved from https://www.thenation.com/article/archive/murder-black-youth-reproductive-justice-issue/