This is Leyla Josephine, a spoken word and performance artist based in Glasgow, Scotland, and the video above is her incredible spoken word poem about her abortion. Or rather, the guilt she does not feel for having an abortion when she was too young to be the kind of mother she wants to be. When the narrative is dominated by conservative Christians who claim all women regret their abortions, we need more women like Leyla (and Amanda, and Julia) speaking up to say that terminating an unwanted pregnancy was the best choice for everyone.
You can check out more videos about a woman’s right to choose at Upworthy’s new section, Feminent Domain. [Upworthy]
First, let me say that I’m a fan of Wendy Davis. I look forward to reading her recently debuted memoir, Forgetting to Be Afraid, and I admire her amazing energy, her dedication to public service, and her impeccable choice in footwear while filibustering for 11 hours in the Texas Senate last year. I’m way thrilled that she’s running a tough race to become the first Democratic governor of Texas in two decades.
No, my problem isn’t with Davis at all — or even with the way she candidly detailed her abortion experiences in her book.
But we have come to the point where, like rape, and domestic violence, and so many other “women’s stories, there’s the ‘good” story—the acceptable one, the defensible one, the OK to discuss one — and the others. Women still have to justify their choices about their bodies, their sex partners, and who they allow (or don’t) to punch them in the face. Keep reading »
Texas State Senator Wendy Davis had an abortion 17 years ago, she revealed in a memoir being published next week. In her book Forgetting To Be Afraid, Davis shares that in 1997, she and her husband terminated a second-trimester pregnancy after they learned the fetus, a daughter, had serious brain abnormalities. Keep reading »
“Some problems we share as women, some we do not. You fear your children will grow up to join the patriarchy and testify against you, we fear our children will be dragged from a car and shot down in the street, and you will turn your backs upon the reasons they are dying.”
— Audre Lorde, “Age, Race, Class, and Sex,” Sister Outsider
My younger brother is 16-years-old. He is six feet, four inches of gentle, timid, and awkward. He loves baseball and breakfast food, family and faith. He is quiet and complex, an introvert who often laughs with me about our frustrations with growing up in a small home with six people.
But in our Orange County hometown, he is feared. A Black teen with a physical presence that far eclipses his white and East Asian peers, he bears the psychic toll of being seen as a walking threat before being seen as a boy. He knows the police are not on his side. He is right; every 28 hours a black person is killed extrajudicially by law enforcement or vigilantes. And that terrifies me. Keep reading »