The truth is that the likely prospect of Roe v. Wade being overturned doesn’t affect me and it likely doesn’t affect you either.
For context, Roe v. Wade is a landmark case that protects a pregnant woman’s liberty to choose to have an abortion without excessive government restriction.
On May 3rd, like most other Americans, I awoke to news of a leaked Supreme Court draft opinion in the case of Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health. Authored by Justice Alito, the draft asserted that the right to abortion is not constitutionally protected and therefore would overturn the 1970’s landmark ruling of Roe v. Wade. My mom had texted me the Politico article, which I only briefly skimmed before climbing out of bed and deciding what I would wear to class that day. Somewhat selfishly, I considered the ramifications this historical reversal would have for me. Sure, I understood that it was an attack on the liberties of women, a threat to our reproductive rights, attempts by white men in government to control our bodies but aside from all of that, I had trouble seeing how anything would change for me. It wouldn’t. So I went on with my day, stopping to think about it only once more that afternoon when I reposted a colorful infographic to my Instagram story. That was the extent of my outrage.
Part of my privilege is being able to say that I was never really concerned about the confiscation of my right to choose. Although nearly half of the United States is expected to impose some form of laws to limit access to safe abortions, including 13 “trigger ban” states, where abortion will be immediately banned in totality upon the overturning of Roe v. Wade, I don’t live in one of them. I’m from California, one of 16 states that actually has laws in place to protect a woman’s right to choose alongside Connecticut, New York, and, fortunately for the young women of Deerfield Academy, Massachusetts.
We hear it all the time: Deerfield is a bubble, but we often neglect to realize just how isolated our community is. Our own little idyllic corner of the world in the Pioneer Valley has sheltered me from the harsh realities of an outside world where human rights are relentlessly under attack. As hard as I try to remain well- informed, I always feel somewhat detached. For a school that cites “citizenship” as its first core value, I often feel that the student body is far less civically engaged than it could be or should be, myself included. We’re all busy making it to every class, co-curricular, or sit-down. We have homework that needs to get done, and want to partake in hockey games and days by the river, yet none of those things should come at the expense of our civic engagement. Nevertheless, on May 3, when I had concluded that my rights weren’t under attack, I dismissed the case as just another headline. Bummer, I thought, that for the first time in history, American daughters won’t have a constitutionally protected right that their mothers had. Now, as I look back on my lack of concern two weeks ago, I’m truly disturbed.
Like so many other landmark policies, especially in the realm of healthcare, those who bear the burden of this reversal will be low-income women and women of color who reside in those states that will impose restrictive laws. Reading the transcript of Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health, I found the JWH lawyer Julie Rikelman’s statement particularly profound. She powerfully asserted that “the data has been very clear over the last 50 years that abortion has been critical to women’s equal participation in society.”
One can only hope that by now it’s understood that women’s equal participation in society benefits everybody. For instance, the other day I was reminded that one of the most effective methods of combating climate change is the provision of family planning resources in an effort to increase women’s education. So when a decision prevents marginalized women from seeking better educational and professional opportunities, and thereby stunts the development of society as a whole, I must empathize. As a young woman at Deerfield, all that I’ve tried to do—my very reason for being at this school— is pursue my education to the highest level I possibly can. I’m supported by Deerfield in so many ways, including the assurance that a potential accidental pregnancy would never inhibit me from reaching my goals.
I stand with women nationwide who want the same for themselves, but, with the reversal of Roe v. Wade would have to navigate far more challenging circumstances than they do now. Recognizing that an attack on the rights of one woman is an attack on the rights of all women has been critical in my understanding of the true gravity of May 3rd’s proceedings. Although we are here in Deerfield, we must never allow ourselves to become too protected, preoccupied, or privileged to care about human rights issues.