Category Archives: Gender and Sexuality

Latinas and Tenure in the Seventies: A Testimonial

February 11, 2013

Flower among the Spines by raelb. Flickr/Creative Commons License.

by Eliana Rivero

Once upon a time there were no Latinas tenured in the Arizona university system, from Tucson to Tempe to Flagstaff. This lasted until 1973, when it was my good (mis?)fortune to confront the system and see how things worked.

I had prepared diligently, and then some. When I submitted my tenure file in the spring of that year, I had one monograph in print published in Spain, one coedited critical edition by Oxford University Press, eight articles in reputable journals, several conference papers delivered, very good teaching evaluations, and quite a bit of professional service. Since the year before, I had been meeting with a group of faculty women who formed a caucus to look into our status on campus at the University of Arizona; this group would go on to form the first Women’s Studies program in the state. I remember one male colleague in French stopping me in the hall to inquire: “Why Women Studies? Why not Men Studies?” I laughed then, since I could not have known how my tenure case and the subsequent struggle would be seen first as waged by a woman, and second, by a Latina who was trying to obtain job permanence as a Latin-Americanist in the United States.

My case passed the scrutiny of a departmental committee (admittedly with some grumblings from traditional scholars, all men), and then went on to the Dean’s office for review. There my troubles began: I was called to the College of Arts and Sciences office and literally put on the carpet by the Dean, a Harvard alumnus whom (I would find out later) had been “informed” by some older colleagues at a Harvard alumni party that my work was dubious in nature and provenance. My publications were all right, but nobody knew if I had written them by myself or with help from some ghost writer, perhaps my dissertation director (!). Furthermore, my field (Latin American contemporary literature, mostly poetry) was not that important in the scheme of things.

Thus spoke the Dean: “Consider yourself lucky that we have to award you tenure, because a letter should have been sent to you a year ago indicating trouble with your CV, and it wasn’t. However, you will not be promoted to associate professor. Your title will be lecturer.”

I was speechless. I left the office, went home, got into bed, and pulled the covers over my head. How could that be? Where was justice? Two days later, I found out that the colleague who had asked me in the hall about the feasibility of Men Studies was promoted to associate professor with tenure, despite having fewer years in rank, not having a book in print, and having been hired in the position of lecturer as an ABD a year after me. The department head of Romance Languages explained to me that since the promoted colleague was in a less popular field—French Canadian literature—and I was in Spanish, they needed his services more than mine in Arizona (!!).

I consulted with my colleagues in the women’s studies group, received their moral support, hired a lawyer (who had just won a case of gender discrimination in the state), and filed a formal grievance with the Civil Rights Division of the Department of Education in Washington DC. Everyone on campus was amazed: “She called in the Feds!” I heard whispered behind my back. A team of investigators came to campus, and after many interviews and much examining of files and almost a whole academic year, I was given a letter with what they called the “right to sue”: yes, they had found evidence that I had been discriminated against for reasons of gender and ethnicity. It helped that a young teaching assistant (also a Harvard alumnus) told me, and later testified, that he had overheard the conversation between one of my older colleagues and the Dean in which they trashed my work, and conjectured about the authorship of my publications. That colleague was opposed to granting me tenure because according to him, Latin American literature was not a departmental priority, nor a well-respected field of research (after all, he couldn’t read more than thirty pages in García Márquez´Cien años de soledad without getting utterly bored!). At the time, out of twenty-five faculty in my department, there were only two women besides me: one was semiretired at 78 years of age, and the other was tenured but in the more acceptable field of medieval studies and linguistics. Neither was interested in women’s issues: I heard the older one say at a faculty party that she preferred to speak to men because “ladies only talk about their babies.”

It was in the spring semester of 1974 that the Dean was removed from office and another head of department was named. I received a letter from the President of the University with a new contract as associate professor with tenure, and a substantial salary increase. Both the new dean and the acting department head called me in and offered verbal apologies. But the title of lecturer for the academic year 1973-74 is still on my record, as a testimonial to that annus horribilis in which they tried unsuccessfully to hold a Latina scholar back.

Oddly enough, the only other Latina who received tenure in the Arizona system around that time was another Cuban-born woman in Flagstaff. But it would be at least five more years until the first Chicana PhD would be hired by the English department here in Tucson. She was tenured six years later, and I—already a full professor with a very substantial CV—sat on the Dean’s committee that examined her case.

It all seems incredible now, but so were the early seventies. At present, at least in my field, the tenure process for Latinas is an easier road than the one I had to travel. In 2013, there are eight tenured women scholars in my department (one Chilena, one Chicana, one Puertorriqueña, one Mejicana, one Argentina, two Brasileñas, one Española, one AngloAmericana). Three more Chicanas are untenured lecturers. We still have some way to go!

Eliana Rivero is Professor Emerita of the Spanish and Portuguese Department of The University of Arizona. During her 45 year career at the U of A, she was also affiliate faculty in Latin American Studies, Mexican American Studies, and Women’s Studies. Her current research focuses on Cuban American women writers and her recent poems and short stories appear in the online Spanish literary magazine LABRAPALABRA.

Comment(s):

Mari Castaneda February 25, 2013 at 9:01 AM
querida Eliana, thank you so much for sharing your story! It’s amazing how stories like these still abound though… I know several Latinas that were recently denied tenure and also questioned about the quality/authenticity of their work. Indeed, there’s still more work to do! But you were a trailblazer, and we wouldn’t be where we are today if it wasn’t for mujeres like you – gracias!!

¡Ya Es Tiempo!: A Latina for Governor of California

February 4, 2013

Photo from Flickr. Untitled, Marcin Wichery, April 2008.

By Adaljiza Sosa Riddell, Ph.D.

Mujeres compañeras, feministas Chicanas, Latinas y mas: Have you had enough of electoral politics? Did those congressional wiri wiri’s con bastantes pendejadas(rhetoric, hot air and plenty of stupidities) push you well beyond anger with the two-party system to somnambulist alienation? Politics in the Golden State, now revealed as a solid Democratic state, were not any more exciting, even as California underwent a demographic change unmatched in any other state. Although two women were on the ballot, the California gubernatorial elections of 2010 left me beyond bored and rather angry. Perhaps this is because neither woman, both of whom are CEOs of major companies, met my minimal criteria for candidacy.

A LATINA FOR GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA IN 2014? Would a Latina on the ballot make any election more engaging and more meaningful to me? Perhaps, but only if it is a position with the ability to alter the relationship between the rulers and the ruled, entrelos de abajo y los de arriba. How might this work? Inspired by the people of Arab Spring, I submit that an interested group might use the internet and social media toward this end. I proposed this entire plan to my family. My brother, the civil engineer, asked me, the social scientist, how I could even believe this could happen. He argued that my political science knowledge was just so much nonsense. Usually I concede intellectual knowledge vs. community experience arguments in the interest of peace and often end in agreement with him. This time I did not concede.

I refer you to a rapidly growing body of literature demonstrating, among other things, that women continue to develop feminist consciousness and do act on this thought process. In short, class, race/ethnicity, and gender do make a difference in politics. Traditional literatures such as political science, as well as emerging literatures including Women’s Studies and American Studies, affirm a Latina political consciousness. This specific consciousness is made up of a seamless cloth in which women’s personal development is intertwined with their roles in the family, the community, and their emergence as political activists.[1] Most importantly, the literature in Chicana and Chicano Studies has grown rapidly, with a sizeable body of work on Chicanas/Latinas and politics.[2] Since the theory that Chicana/Latina political consciousness is real, well-known, well-documented and reflects experience, then it is time to turn the pyramid upside down and share power rather than continuing to hold up pyramids and bridges on our backs.[3]

THIS IS A CALL TO ACTION. The next California gubernatorial election is in November 2014. I invite you to join me in nominating and supporting one Chicana/Latina feminista to run for and win the Governorship of the state of Alta California. I propose that this is performed “democratically” through the Internet and social media.

Although it is not my intent to encourage anyone to participate in electoral party politics, I am indeed searching for strategies that can actually foster meaningful change in the nature of the relationship between the rulers and the ruled. While American political ideology, including ideals of equality, individual freedoms, and government of the people, by the people and for the people, as stated in the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution, may have inspired many of us, the marriage of such lofty ideals to raw, unregulated capitalism has rendered the original ideals and everyday practices hollow and harmful. However, the American electoral system occasionally provides some truly democratic moments.

Another such moment is now before the Latino population in California, specifically in the next gubernatorial election. Despite the fact that the U.S. Census seriously undercounts the Latino population, the 2010 U.S. Census and the resulting redistricting plans have given Latinos an unprecedented voice in the electoral process as shown in the 2012 elections. Proposition 11, Voters First Act, passed in 2008, established an entirely new process for reapportionment plans based on the 2010 census. However, the effort to take the reapportionment process out of the California State Legislature ended by increasing representation for new populations, cultural groups, and historical communities previously ignored or underrepresented. This process may not survive the next election. Conservative groups are presently working on changing that process through California’s citizens’ initiative to disallow “overwhelming” power for California’s former minorities. Latinos and Asian/Pacific Islanders especially cannot allow the underrepresentation in state governance to intensify nor continue because it means our communities will be wrongly served and/or underserved.

The 2010 U.S. Census also contains another important figure: Latinas are 51% of the Latino population. This number signifies that mujeres Latinas hold up more than half the sky. Coupled with knowledge and experience of Chicanas/Latinas in the workplace, the home, and the community, this does mean that mujeres do more than half the work. Mujeres should thus have an opportunity to have some of the power. And I expect men, brothers, and partners to wholeheartedly endorse this endeavor. I paraphrase a quote by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, 1982 Nobel Laureate in Literature, in a January 2000 issue of Time magazine: “Men have run the world for well over 2000 years. Women deserve to try their hand at governance in the 21st century.” The eyes of the world are on us. Women must rise to the challenge. California is perfectly poised to meet that challenge.

The following are some of my ideas for this project. If you would like to join me in creating a group, a Comité, separate from MALCS to advance this idea, please email me at adaljizasosariddell@yahoo.com.

STRATEGY. A first round of work will identify a Latina candidate then gather support and verify interest of the candidate in running for governor by signing up for the Primary. This first round should generate a short list of possible Latina candidates gathered by consensus exclusively from among women. The second round will begin with one Latina name, and one only. The Comité will then reach out to all Hispanic, Latino, Mexican American and Chicano organizations in California via listservs and social media, in an effort to recruit male compañeros, to endorse and work for the one consensus candidate.

CRITERIA FOR CANDIDACY. Candidate must:

1.     Demonstrate a Latina women’s political consciousness
2.     Possess electoral politics experience
3. Have statewide recognition
4.     Exhibit a clean record (no major scandals)
5.     Display support for and from Latina/o grassroots groups including especially non-traditional sexualities
6. Be highly knowledgeable on California issues
7.     Be familiar to and with large urban centers including Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego, and in its most rapidly growing areas such as Fresno, Visalia, and the Inland Empire

Again, I welcome other suggestions for criteria. The Comité will need these later for extensive outreach to garner support.

WHAT YOU CAN DO. If you are interested, join me in forming the Comité, you can:

1.     Nominate a candidate
2.     Volunteer for the Comité to receive names from first round of contact; work with me (or someone else) to come up with one name; conduct second round of outreach
3. Work on campaign itself
4.     Suggest other forms of participation

¡Ya es tiempo! I look forward to your ideas, suggestions and concerns.

Adaljiza Sosa Riddell, Ph.D., is the founder of MALCS and Chicano Studies Professor Emeritus at The University of California, Davis. She lives in Los Angeles and studies politics, Chicana/o issues, and class struggle. She can be contacted via email at adaljizasosariddell@yahoo.com.

[1] This is a shortened version of the definition of Latina political consciousness from Carol Hardy-Fanta in Women Transforming Politics: An Alternative Reader, ed. Cathy Cohen et al. (New York: NYU Press, 1997), 223-237.

[2] See Carol Hardy-Fanta, Latina Politics, Latino Politics: Gender, Culture, and Political Participation in Boston (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1993); P. Cruz-Takash inWomen Transforming Politics, 412-434; Christine Sierra and Adaljiza Sosa-Riddell, “Chicanas as Political Actors,” National Political Science Review 4 (1994): 297-317; Mary Pardo, Mexican American Women Activists (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1998); Maylei Blackwell, ¡Chicana Power!: Contested Histories of Feminism in the Chicano Movement (Austin: UT Press, 2011), among others.

[3] Cherríe Moraga and Gloria Anzaldúa, eds., This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (Watertown, MA: Persephone Press, 1981).

Comment(s):

Rita Urquijo-Ruiz February 6, 2013 at 11:45 AM

Querida Adaljiza.

Mil gracias for your writing this. Although I am now living in TX (another state that could us much of what you propose here). The first woman that comes to mind is Hilda Solís. Other than that, I can’t really think of anyone else.

Abrazos,

Rita
Anonymous February 8, 2013 at 8:08 AM

I definitely think we should see a Latina on the ballot–it would not be too difficult to put someone there but whether or not she would be elected would be difficult given the two party monopoly. For a while I was a member of the Green Party and had some hope for an alternative space that forwarded progressive folks and that was a diverse group. In the past, I believe some RUP folks in Califas became part of Peace and Freedom. And there has been Latina representation on Peace and Freedom. Unless I’m mistaken, Yolanda Alaniz has been a major figure there in past. I also think we need to be clear about what the platform of a “Latina woman’s political consciousness would be” e.g. worker rights, support for public education, etc. You are certainly on to something, Ada! I agree that Hilda Solis would be a strong candidate–she is democratic party all the way but that could also be strategically useful in her election. But a true challenge should come from someone outside of those circuits who offers a completely different approach to leadership and policy and I think that’s what you are calling for. –Dionne

Domestic Workers, Dignity and a Daughter’s Story

January 28, 2013

From left to right: Translator (name unknown), Maria Reyes of the National Domestic Workers Alliance, Guillermina Castellanos of the National Day Labor Organizing Network, panel moderator Kathy Coll of Stanford University. Photo by author.

By Seline Szkupinski Quiroga, Ph.D.

Last November in Oakland, at the meetings of the National Women’s Studies Association, I attended a session entitled “Imagining New Solutions for Old Problems: Domestic Workers Create Networks – Transforming the Struggle for Social and Economic Justice”. The panel offered academic, activist, and worker voices reflecting on the current state of labor activism in a field comprised largely of immigrant women.

Historian Eileen Boris provided a context for current struggles as she outlined the dialectical history of strikes (protests) and standards (laws). Maria Reyes of Mujeres Unidas y Activas (an immigrant rights organization) and the National Domestic Workers Alliance described initiatives such as the California Domestic Workers Bill of Rights which would have given housekeepers, childcare providers and home health care workers rights such as overtime pay, mandated meal and rest breaks, adequate sleeping conditions for live-in workers, and the right to use employers’ kitchens to cook their own food. (The bill was vetoed by Governor Brown).

Nicole Brown-Booker, a professional woman with a significant disability who must employ personal care attendants in order to live independently, spoke of Hand in Hand, a coalition of domestic workers and their employers working together to educate about and advocate for dignified and respectful working conditions. Pam Tau Lee, a long-time community and labor activist, shared her experience as a daughter now employing care workers for her elderly parents.

The entire session was inspiring and enlightening but it was these last two presenters who had the most impact on me. Their stories resonated with me because I have had experience with the ethical dilemmas associated with employing a home health care worker. My mother had Parkinson’s disease and osteoporosis. In her later years, she lived with my sister and her family as she was no longer able to live independently due to her frailty and advancing symptoms. My sister and her husband both worked fulltime and couldn’t provide the 24-hour care my mother needed.

As for many families in this situation, financial concerns were paramount. My mother had limited resources—social security, a small pension and some savings. She did not have long-term care insurance so while her health insurance covered a few hours of home health care, the majority was paid for out of pocket. Daunted by the task of finding qualified workers with experience and figuring out tax withholdings at the same time as learning about my mother’s rapidly changing needs, we decided to contract with a private company, and the monthly expense quickly mounted.

My mother immigrated to the United States in the 1950s. She was completely bilingual but as she aged, she was more comfortable expressing herself in Spanish. We were grateful to find home health care workers who could easily communicate with her in Spanish, but I was uncomfortably aware that the limited English abilities of some would limit their ability to advance or to be employed in other sectors. I learned that few companies provided opportunities for training and certification.

I have respect for the work of caring for others. It is not an easy job, and it is more than just providing another pair of hands. In my mother’s case, for example, it required confianza as workers helped her make purchases and with intimate daily tasks; and patience as the side effects of her medications—hallucinations and paranoia—caused personality changes. In one particularly difficult period, her aides would spend hours looking for something that had been ‘lost’ only to then be accused of theft. My sister, in addition to managing her own household, had to mediate these clashes.

Over the years that my mother needed home health care workers, we learned that of the daily amount she was charged, only a small portion actually went to the worker. I don’t know if this is standard or just a practice of the companies we dealt with. We wanted to pay a fair wage and give the work and care provided the dignity and value it deserved. At one point, we intervened when we found out that one of my mother’s aides was consistently receiving her paychecks late. The company’s proposed ‘solution’ was for my mother to buy out the worker’s contract at a cost of over $30,000. The situation was so messy we had to seek legal counsel. As my mother’s medical condition was rapidly declining, shifting from using a company to employing home health care workers directly would have meant finding a new team of workers who could attend to her needs, and forming new relationships at a time when stability was important.

The decision of what to do was eclipsed by my mother’s entrance into hospice.When my mother passed away, her home health care workers attended her memorial service, and I am still in contact with some of them as they share the accomplishments of their children and other milestones.

Domestic workers, such as the many women who helped my mother in her last years of life, provide vital services yet these workers often face unjust social and economic conditions. The industry is unregulated, domestic workers are excluded from the protections of federal wage-and-hour laws, and abuses are rampant. However, as the presenters in the session noted, the coalitions and networks that domestic workers are forming are having effect. In 2010, New York State passed the nation’s first Domestic Workers Bill of Rights into law. Although Governor Brown vetoed the California version, local organizations have not given up the fight. San Francisco’s Mujeres Unidas y Activas has developed an innovative worker-centered skills training, job placement and labor rights program called Caring Hands. A national campaign to coordinate efforts and educate the public called Caring Across Generations launched in 2011.

As our population ages, it is estimated that the number of people who will need care will only grow.^[1] We may all face similar dilemmas, as we have to make decisions about a sick parent or partner who needs help. It is time to organize to change the current structures and policies. We must improve the working conditions and job quality of domestic workers but not at the risk of making such care inaccessible for low-income families.

Seline Szkupinski Quiroga is a child of immigrants and a medical anthropologist living in Phoenix, Arizona. She is a member of the Mujeres Talk Colectiva.

[1] Salinas, Robert. “Home Care.” Long-Term Care Medicine (2011): 3-14.

Comment(s):

Elena Gutierrez February 6, 2013 at 12:32 PM
Thanks for your thoughts on the complex relations women face as both carefivers and receivers- roles we all play at some point in our lives. Do you have any resources that those of us who would like to keep up on these issues can use?
Seline (Mujeres Talk Co-Moderator) February 7, 2013 at 3:52 PM
Hi Elena,
In addition to the links in the essay, the websites of the following organizations will keep you up to date:
National Domestic Workers Alliance
http://www.nationaldomesticworkeralliance.org/
Caring Across Generations
http://www.caringacrossgenerations.org/
The Domestic Employers Association
http://domesticemployers.org/
-ssq

Latinas and Roe v. Wade

January 21, 2013

Photo by We Are Woman, Aug 25, 2012, Flickr/Creative Commons License.

By Elena R. Gutiérrez

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” MLK

In watching the unfolding online celebration of the fortieth anniversary of Roe v Wade (January 22, 2013), it is undeniable that the voices of women of color have been present and impactful in changing the landscape of abortion organizing over the past four decades. While Planned Parenthood’s decision to step away from the pro-choice framework may be the most recent indicator that the mainstream reproductive rights movement has finally understood that for most women terminating a pregnancy is anything but a “choice,” I have been struck by several articles and blogs, more than ever before written by Latinas, commenting upon what this landmark legislation currently means for our communities.[1]

It is not that this is a new occurrence—Latinas have advocated for issues of reproductive health, including pregnancy termination, for longer than Roe v. Wade has been in existence. However, it has been refreshing to read a number of public opinions and perspectives that directly engage how and why abortion is significant in Latina lives; although all authors inevitably point out that what is popularly perceived as open access to abortion in the United States is hardly the reality for most Latinas. As one “Anonymous- Reproductive Justice Advocate” notes: “The legality of Roe v. Wade does not reflect our country’s culture where sex education is often times limited to abstinence-only, access to birth control and abortions services is disproportionate, and interactions perpetuate slut-bashing where sexually-active youth are labeled as ‘too sexual.'”[2]

While the anonymity of the author may signal how much further we have to go in creating social safety for the one in three women who have abortions, especially those who are young, her insights indicate how the politics of abortion go beyond legal access to the actual medical procedure and speak to the broader cultural context and economic circumstances within which women live. As reproductive justice advocates have argued for decades, it is only within this broader framework that we can speak about the significance of Roe v. Wade for Latinas.

The importance of financial access to abortion has in fact become memorialized internationally in the life of Rosie Jimenez, who is commonly believed to be the first known death by illegal abortion after the passage of the Hyde Amendment in 1977. Hyde cut off Medicaid funding for abortion to women on public assistance — women who by the government’s own definition cannot afford health care. Rosaura (Rosie) Jimenez, was a mother and college student living in McAllen, Texas, in the late 1970s. The daughter of Mexican migrant farm-workers, Rosie was a single mother raising her 5-year-old daughter and also a student six months away from her teaching credential.

In her final semester of school, Rosie realized that she was once again pregnant. However, too financially strapped to pay for a safe and legal procedure at a clinic, she found a cheaper alternative. She ended up going to an illegal abortionist who used unsterilized instruments to complete her surgery. Within a week, Rosie suffered a painful death from an infection that ravaged her body. A $700 scholarship check was found in her purse when she died on October 3, 1977, at the age of 27. She could have used her college money for safe abortion care at a clinic, but she was saving it for her education.

Although it is almost thirty-five years after the death of Rosie Jimenez, the recently published commentary on Roe’s anniversary echo a reality that is still very common for Latinas in the US. In fact, more women than ever since the legalization of abortion will find themselves in the circumstances faced by Rosie Jimenez should they face an unintended pregnancy.[3] More Latinas (37 percent) are uninsured than women of any other racial or ethnic group, and more than a quarter of Latinas live in poverty.[4] Despite the fact that they are also more likely to live in areas with poor access to family planning services, Latinas have abortions at disproportionate rates; with estimates of between 17-20% of women in the U.S. having abortions being Latina.[5] When we take into account the circumstances of newly immigrant Latinas, who have little financial and social assistance and may fear deportation, or dealing with providers who do not speak Spanish, the circumstances are even more challenging.

These numbers show that Catholic or not, Latinas do have abortions, not because they are making that “choice,” but for many, because the circumstances of their lives may offer no other choice. Moreover, current research suggests than rather than being staunchly against it, Latinos hold compassionate views about abortion.[6] But perhaps what is most notable at this particular moment is that Latinas continue to be at the forefront of reproductive health and justice organizing. From working for legal and policy change to providing health care and participating in grassroots mobilization, for over forty years these advocates have insisted that true reproductive “choice” necessitates an understanding of the many factors that impact women’s reproductive options.

While access to the termination of a pregnancy through legal abortion is critical, it is insufficient. True reproductive justice efforts must also strive to create a society in which any person has the freedom and resources to not have a child, or to have as many as they want. All people have the right to parent the children they have with full access to the social resources necessary to raise them in safe and healthy environments, without fear of violence from individuals or intervention by the government. This includes making assistive reproductive technologies available, funding education, investing in health care reform for all, ensuring food safety and security and prioritizing the unification of our families. That we guarantee all of these options for all people regardless of race, class, gender, sexuality, or physical ability, is fundamental to creating true reproductive justice.

If you would like to learn more about Latinas and abortion, reproductive justice or efforts to end the Hyde Amendment:

1. Join the Strong Families tweet: What has Roe v. Wade meant for communities of color? Jan 22^nd, 9am #Roeat40 #Roeat40chat

2. Participate in a “Talking About Abortion” e-LOLA (Latinas Organizing for Leadership and Advocacy) hosted by the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health (Jan. 22-23; offered in English and Spanish)

3. If you can’t make the training above, you can refer to many bi-lingual fact sheets and policy analyses offered by the NLIRH at: www.latinainstitute.org/issues/abortion-access.

4. Find out about the abortion laws in your state, and the existence of an abortion fund (check out http://www.fundabortionnow.org/). These are the folks who will be able to assist someone in your area if needed and are a great resource.

5. Find out if there is a reproductive justice organization in your state. Volunteer, recommend, donate and keep connected to the issues.

Elena R. Gutiérrez is Associate Professor of Gender and Women’s Studies and Latin American and Latino Studies at the University of Illinois, Chicago. She is the author of Fertile Matters: The Politics of Mexican-origin Women’s Reproduction, co-author of Undivided Rights: Women of Color Organize for Reproductive Justice, and is a member of the Mujeres Talk Editorial Colectiva.

[1] For example: Strong Families, Still Wading: Forty Years of Resistence, Resilience and Reclamation in Communities of Color, www.reproductivejusticeblog.org, California Latinas for Reproductive Justice http: //www.californialatinas.org/a-young-latinas-reflection-on-choice; “Latino Attitudes on Abortion: Roe v Wade 40 years later. 1/17/13 www.hispanicallyspeakingnews.com/latino-daily-news/details

[2] Anonymous, “A Young Latina’s Reflection on Choice,” California Latinas for Reproductive Justice http://www.californialatinas.org/a-young-latinas-reflection-on-choice)

[3] The Guttmacher Institute recently reported that during 2011 and 2012 more abortion restrictions were enacted in U.S. states than in at any other previous years. 2011 marked a record high, with 92 pieces of legislation being passed throughout the country. Guttmacher Institute, “2012 Saw Second-Highest Number of Abortion Restrictions Ever,” guttmacher.org.media/inthenews/2013/01/02/index.html. 1/2/13.

[4] Hope Gillette, “Cervical Cancer Awareness: Latinas At Greater Risk, ‘Third Most Likely Group To Die Of The Disease.” Huffington Post Online 1/14/2013.

[5] National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health. (2004) “Latinas and Abortion Access: Issue Brief,” latinainstitute.org/sites/default/files/publications/AbortionIssueBrief.pdf.

[6] National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health. (2011). “Latino Abortion Attitude Polling” http://latinainstitute.org/publications/Poll-Latino-Voters-Hold-Compassionate-Views-on-Abortion

Comment(s):

Felicity Amaya Schaeffer January 25, 2013 at 5:29 AM

Thank you Elena for such a timely and powerful post. You remind us of the limits of liberal “rights” frameworks in erasing the barriers faced by poor women of color. People like to blame women’s “cultural” silence about sex in the family as the ultimate barrier to them seeking legal abortions, erasing the entire structure of poverty and lack of healthcare access. Another aspect of reproductive justice we need to fight against is the insidious way undocumented migrant parents are increasingly losing their children to child services and foster care. They are increasingly constructed as irresponsible parents – simply due to the fact that they do not speak English and because of the “risks” posed by being undocumented, which of course means today that they are likely to face prison time, detention, and deportation. Thank you for your post!