I always knew that I lacked a strong historical perspective because my high school history class ended after WWI. We never covered the social movements of the 60s or the many political restructurings throughout the century or even WWII! I sort of laughed it off not realizing quite how shallow my understanding was.
When I got to Duke, I jumped head first into pre-med classes, immersing myself in biology, physics and chemistry (on my!), never having time in my schedule for the humanities. It’s very easy for me to get sucked up into the world of science and forget that there are major problems outside of the purity of my protein sample in lab. I aim to address that this summer.
Last semester I took a sociology class called “Drugs in the US,” which was the first time that anyone told me that the War on Drugs was racially motivated. I knew that there were sentencing biases and huge over-representations of minorities within prisons, but it never occurred to me that someone could have conjured up such a veiled attack on minorities in order to retain White power on a widespread systemic level. I thought that this revelation would open my eyes and suddenly I would see the biases that surround me everywhere, however each day of this program I am exceedingly aware of how much I am still oblivious to the natural power dynamics of our society.
Just this past week, our group focused on how non-profits can gain power and influence by aligning themselves with the government so that they can have a constant, reliable source of money. However, the government typically likes to fund organizations that maintain the current hierarchy and power structure that got elected officials their current power and influence. Recently, I have started to see how this systemic distribution of power can be used to subjugate women particularly when it comes to women’s reproductive health.
One of my first days working at Choices, I accompanied an 18-year-old, 11-week pregnant woman from her sonogram, to her counseling with a social worker, through the surgical abortion procedure that she chose, and to her recovery. I held her hand for an hour in the recovery room as she wept over the loss of the fetus. While we had discussed and anticipated the emotional impact, nothing could have prepared either of us for her visceral response. She knew that she could not support a child and that terminating the pregnancy was the right decision for her, but that didn’t eliminate her pain. I have never felt more useful or connected to another woman than during that raw emotional outpouring. While I feel moral qualms about the experience, I am proud that we provided her with safe, effective treatment that enabled her to control her life moving forward. Further, her strength during a time of anguish humbled and inspired me.
Yet, after reflecting on this experience, I couldn’t help but see it as an individual suffering from unfortunate circumstances. She isn’t the only individual. Systemic oppression of women and stigmatization of reproductive control has diminished women’s power, relegating it to an unspoken act that requires utmost confidentiality. I am still very much grappling with what I see as the goal for women’s health, but I’m learning more and more every day. Baby steps forward!
