Roe doesn’t just protect abortion rights. It’s the keystone that keeps politicians out of the most intimate aspects of our lives.
So as a human with reproductive organs, the leaked draft of
a Supreme Court opinion overruling Roe v. Wade —
and the constitutional right to abortion — is obviously personal to me. But
it’s personal for another reason, too.
I come from a line of pro-choice advocates. My late
grandmother, Eileen Alperstein, was on the board of a Planned Parenthood
chapter. She fought to get an ad placed in The New York Times to
shine a light on the issue, well before Roe v. Wade was settled.
She marched, too. At one of her last demonstrations before
she passed away from breast cancer, she joined my mom and me — a toddler in a
stroller — as our family marched on Washington to support the right to choose.
I’m proud to descend from brave people like these, who
demanded reproductive freedom before women even had the
right to open credit cards in their own name. Their hard work led
to Roe, which Americans support upholding today by a 2 to 1 margin.
But thanks to an extremist minority, our right to bodily
autonomy is on the verge of being dismantled. The results will be devastating.
Even if you don’t know it, you probably know someone who’s had an abortion. One in four women in this country have ended a pregnancy, whether because it was life-threatening, nonviable, unaffordable, or they simply didn’t want it.
Already, 26 states are
likely to ban or restrict abortion once Roe is
overturned. Each one could be more extreme than the last. Even now, a new Texas law offers
offers a $10,000 bounty to anyone who reports someone they suspect has helped
facilitate an abortion after six weeks.
Forget A Handmaid’s Tale —
we’re at risk of going full Crucible: “I saw
Goody Proctor at the clinic. Burn the witch!”
But Roe doesn’t
just protect people seeking abortions. The rationale underpinning that ruling
protects all of us from government interference in the most intimate areas of
our lives: who we love, who we marry, and how and whether we choose to raise a
family.
If Roe falls, the
right to take birth control — something relied on by
millions of people of child bearing age, including me — could
also become a thing of the
past. So could the right to love or marry someone of the same
gender, or a different race. All of these deeply personal decisions could end
up falling under the purview of politicians.
So how can we protect the right to choose?
One hope is that Congress will step up. For decades,
champions like Rep. Barbara Lee (D-CA) have fought for legislation like the
Women’s Health Protection Act, which codifies the right to choose and expands
access to affordable reproductive healthcare for all Americans.
Failing that, Americans in individual states will need to
fight hard to pass state-level legislation that protects the right to choose
and so much else.
My mother and grandmother were born into a world where
dangerous back alley abortions were a reality for millions. Institutions like
Planned Parenthood existed alongside hidden networks like the Jane Collective,
which secretly assisted with access to abortion services.
It wasn’t so long ago. I’ve been in marches where I carried
signs with the same exact slogans that my mother, her sisters, and my late
grandmother carried. I’ve fought for the same rights and protections that they
did. And I’m furious that their victories are under dire threat.
But like millions in our movement, I’ve been anticipating
this moment. I’m going to fight like hell.
And this time, it’s personal.
Olivia
Alperstein is the media manager of the Institute for Policy
Studies. This op-ed was distributed by OtherWords.org.
