By: Patricia Valoy | Contributing Editor for Science and Social Justice
Last year I quit my job, lost my steady source of income, lost my health insurance, and learned I was pregnant all in the course of 2 weeks. I am college educated, a professional, 30 years old, and with a wealth of resources at my disposal from many years of feminist activism, yet I found myself terrified of what lay ahead of me, and wondering how I got myself in such a situation. I could no longer go to the ob-gyn who had been my doctor for 10 years, and the only local doctor that accepted Medicaid (the only health insurance I could get without any income) was severely overworked and lacked the most basic of equipment. My first two appointments I waited for over 4 hours, and on one occasion the sonogram machine was not working. I grew up poor in New York City and very familiar with the severe lack of health infrastructure that affects the most vulnerable, but the thought of not having adequate health care during my first pregnancy terrified me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UCXCcTpS6c For too long America has failed to acknowledge the outrageous and seemingly intractable rates of poor maternal health and deaths of mothers in childbirth. The United States has the highest maternal mortality rate of any industrialized country in the world. More than two women die every day in the US from pregnancy-related causes. And while the vast majority of countries have reduced their maternal mortality ratios, for the past 25 years the numbers of women lost during pregnancy, birth or postpartum have increased dramatically in the US. African-American women in the US are at especially high risk; they are nearly 4 times more likely to die of pregnancy-related complications compared to European American. Women of color are less likely to go into pregnancy in good health because of a lack of access to primary health care services. They are also less likely to have access to adequate maternal health…
By Kay Ulanday Barrett | Fusion
After Bruce Jenner’s interview with Diane Sawyer, which aired on April 24, “he became the most visible transgender person in the country, if not the world,” Time magazine reported. In response to the media’s focus on Jenner’s announcement, Kay Ulanday Barrett – a poet, performer, and educator navigating life as a disabled pin@y-amerikan transgernder queer in the U.S. – offers insights into the experiences of trans people of color.
The problem regarding Bruce Jenner’s situation is the media circus that it all culminates into. It’s all a freakshow for cisgender and non-transgender people.
The painful reality is that our gender identity is under speculation, suspicion, doubt, and policing. But the current curiosity surrounding Jenner’s interview in the non-trans community creates a magical fantasy based on a very wealthy, able-bodied, American, and white experience that isn’t the case for many of us who struggle for survival and justice as transgender people of color.
Introduction to critical thinking about race, class, gender, and sexuality. Exploring questions of identity and belonging in relation to topics such as the politics of reproduction, butch/femme, the family and the state, colonialism, bisexuality, s/m, interracial relationships, and safe sex, this interdisciplinary course focuses on collaboration and conflict between women of color with group presentations and professor-graduate student co-teaching. Dr. Angela Davis and Catriona Rueda Esquibel University of California Santa Cruz Syllabus