Sometimes you meet an activist who is so dang cool you want to tell the whole world about it.
Public spotlight has focused intently on reproductive justice lately: in the campaigns of presidential hopefuls, in the media, and in the procedings of the U.S. legistlature. Debates have culminated this fall in a show-down on Capitol Hill as members of Congress attempt to de-fund Planned Parenthood. The House and Senate both voted to de-fund the organization, which amounts to cutting off Medicaid payouts to the non-profit that millions of low-income people depend on for healthcare.
But wait a second: why are lawmakers making such a stink over Planned Parenthood anyway?
Ever since puberty, I found my body to be a site of shame, something I desperately wanted to escape.
A transplant to predominantly white Catholic schools on Long Island, I was immediately deemed ugly. I had an older sister, but we were close enough in age that we were navigating puberty around the same time. As second-generation daughters of immigrant parents, we were on our own as far as navigating the personal and social meanings of our bodies.
I grew up in the suburbs of St. Louis Missouri in a mostly white neighborhood. One of the first things I noticed was that my hair was different.