By Dana Ginn Paredes
In previous blogs, I have shared my insights on why family medical leave is so important and of my own parental leave adventure. I just learned that the Center for Economic and Policy Research released a new report, Leaves That Pay: Employer and Worker Experiences with Paid Family Leave in California (Eileen Appelbaum & Ruth Milkman, 2011) which shows that 91% of those who used the benefit said that it had a positive effect on their ability to care for a new baby, foster or adopted child. And California’s Paid Family Leave program has doubled the median duration of breastfeeding for new mothers who used it. It also benefits new fathers, as the number of men using the program to bond with new babies has steadily increased since the law was first passed.
Is this a covert strategy of La Leche League to get more moms breast feeding for longer? OK, probably not, but it is not everyday that you get to see links being made between worker rights and breastfeeding, let alone how mamas and newborns across the political spectrum directly benefit from progressive policy change.
Our vision is that every family have the rights, recognition and resources it needs to thrive.
February 24, 2011
February 20, 2011
Rep. Moore tells anti-choice GOP where to shove black genocide lie
Check out this great piece in Colorlines: "Rep. Moore Tells Anti-Choice GOP Where to Shove Black Genocide Lie."
Thanks to Representative Gwen Moore of Wisconsin for speaking out—watch her here:
Thanks to Representative Gwen Moore of Wisconsin for speaking out—watch her here:
February 18, 2011
The origin of the phrase "women of color"
Via Kalpana Krishnamurthy, Western States Center
To celebrate Black History Month, we are happy to share with you a couple of video clips of Loretta Ross, co-founder and national coordinator of SisterSong, Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective. In the first clip, she speaks on the origin and implications of the term “women of color”:
On January 28th, participants of the Western State Center and EMERJ's Groundwork cohort had a chance to dialogue with Loretta and learn from SisterSong’s successful organizing efforts to halt House Bill 1155 (the Sex and Race Selection Bill). HB 1155 was a horrendous attack on women of color to limit access to their reproductive rights. In the second clip, Loretta speaks about this and “the beauty of reproductive justice”:
To celebrate Black History Month, we are happy to share with you a couple of video clips of Loretta Ross, co-founder and national coordinator of SisterSong, Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective. In the first clip, she speaks on the origin and implications of the term “women of color”:
On January 28th, participants of the Western State Center and EMERJ's Groundwork cohort had a chance to dialogue with Loretta and learn from SisterSong’s successful organizing efforts to halt House Bill 1155 (the Sex and Race Selection Bill). HB 1155 was a horrendous attack on women of color to limit access to their reproductive rights. In the second clip, Loretta speaks about this and “the beauty of reproductive justice”:
February 16, 2011
South Dakota bill would allow "justifiable homicide" of abortion providers
Have you heard about the shocking South Dakota bill that would make it legal to murder abortion providers, but not gotten the details yet? Check out Lindsay Beyerstein's roundup at The Media Consortium. She reports, in part,
As Jodi Jacobson of RH Reality Check notes, the bill codifies the same legal argument that anti-choice terrorist Scott Roeder deployed unsuccessfully at his trial for the assassination of the prominent late-term abortion provider and pro-choice activist Dr. George Tiller. Technically, the bill would only protect people who killed to “protect” a fetus being carried by their partner or family member, not strangers like Roeder who killed to “protect” fetuses in general, but the veiled threat to abortion providers is clear.
Our love and respect to Esperanza Spalding
By Yvonne Tran
But sometimes, a gem peaks through the sand that is pop culture.
This year's gem is Esperanza Spalding. She is a 26 year-old jazz singer and musician that plays multiple instruments and was the youngest Professor at Berklee College of Music, at age 20. Further exploration of her resume will probably leave you even more awestruck.
Esperanza winning the Grammy for Best New Artist |
When I was in high school, I remember being glued to the television screen when the GRAMMYs or Oscars came on. I would see all the grand performances, snazzy outifts, and best new artist or best motion picture for that year. I felt like I was in the know of what was considered good "art." Ten years later, it's apparent to me that neither of these award shows are an indication of good art or bad art. It is an indication of what is popular this year and what is not.
This year's gem is Esperanza Spalding. She is a 26 year-old jazz singer and musician that plays multiple instruments and was the youngest Professor at Berklee College of Music, at age 20. Further exploration of her resume will probably leave you even more awestruck.
February 10, 2011
Egypt, a revolution for me, for us all
[I asked my good friend Heba Gamal, who was born in Cairo and left today to go back, to share her thoughts on Egypt. The following is a combination of her blog post and a letter she sent out to her friends and family as she left. —Yvonne Tran]
By Heba Gamal
During the past 14 days, of what the media has dubbed as "Egypt's unrest", I have been going through a bag of mixed emotions from extreme happiness to extreme sadness. I was happy to see my friends and family members rush the streets of Cairo in a sense of unity I have never witnessed or experienced myself in my own country to feeling sadness that hurts beyond any words can fairly describe, when watching young Egyptians die at the hands of the government that has so stubbornly and ruthlessly ruled our country for 30 years.
During the past 14 days, I listened to my mother cry on the phone in our home in Cairo. I have talked to friends during the internet blackout who asked me if the world knew what was going on. I watched a friend and colleague vanish and return to bring a new voice and renewed hope to the people. I protested in solidarity with the people in Egypt on the streets of San Francisco and chanted so hard I lost my voice. During the past 14 days, I felt things I wasn't sure one could feel for a country, for a place, for 80 million faces I'm not familiar with...but I did.
Lefteris Pitarakis / AP - An Egyptian anti-government activist kisses a riot police officer following clashes in Cairo, Egypt, Friday, Jan. 28, 2011. |
During the past 14 days, of what the media has dubbed as "Egypt's unrest", I have been going through a bag of mixed emotions from extreme happiness to extreme sadness. I was happy to see my friends and family members rush the streets of Cairo in a sense of unity I have never witnessed or experienced myself in my own country to feeling sadness that hurts beyond any words can fairly describe, when watching young Egyptians die at the hands of the government that has so stubbornly and ruthlessly ruled our country for 30 years.
During the past 14 days, I listened to my mother cry on the phone in our home in Cairo. I have talked to friends during the internet blackout who asked me if the world knew what was going on. I watched a friend and colleague vanish and return to bring a new voice and renewed hope to the people. I protested in solidarity with the people in Egypt on the streets of San Francisco and chanted so hard I lost my voice. During the past 14 days, I felt things I wasn't sure one could feel for a country, for a place, for 80 million faces I'm not familiar with...but I did.
February 9, 2011
Lunar New Year: It's all about family
by Maria Nakae
Last Saturday, my husband and I hosted a big party to celebrate Lunar New Year, which began this past Thursday – the first full moon of the year. This annual tradition, started by my husband (whose mother is Taiwanese and father was Chinese) years before we met, was a 10-hour celebration preceded by a full day of making handmade dumplings. Every year we make over 500 dumplings and after the party, even after we send some home with our friends, we are still eating dumplings for the next week. Yum.
When I was growing up, my family celebrated New Years on January 1, since Japan follows the Gregorian calendar (blame it on Western imperialism, I suppose). My mom would cook an elaborate feast featuring snapper (representing good luck), and my brother and dad would fight over who got to eat the eyeballs (which I always thought was kind of gross).
For my friends from Laos and Cambodia, on the other hand, their New Year falls in mid-April. Traditionally, this is the end of harvesting season and before the rainy season begins, families come together, rest, and enjoy the fruits of their harvest.
But despite the differences in traditions, time of year, and adaptations by U.S.-raised generations, all Asian New Year celebrations have one thing in common: it’s all about family. And, of course, food.
Decorations & red envelopes |
When I was growing up, my family celebrated New Years on January 1, since Japan follows the Gregorian calendar (blame it on Western imperialism, I suppose). My mom would cook an elaborate feast featuring snapper (representing good luck), and my brother and dad would fight over who got to eat the eyeballs (which I always thought was kind of gross).
For my friends from Laos and Cambodia, on the other hand, their New Year falls in mid-April. Traditionally, this is the end of harvesting season and before the rainy season begins, families come together, rest, and enjoy the fruits of their harvest.
But despite the differences in traditions, time of year, and adaptations by U.S.-raised generations, all Asian New Year celebrations have one thing in common: it’s all about family. And, of course, food.
February 4, 2011
Mass murders still unsolved in New Mexico--Colorlines
[Reprinted with permission from Colorlines]
By Jamilah King
This week marked a gruesome anniversary for residents in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Two years ago the remains of at least 11 women were found in the city’s far West Mesa, marking what’s perhaps one of the worst cases of unsolved mass murder that’s flown mostly under the national radar.
Police say that a woman found the remains of one woman while walking her dog one day in early February, 2009. Some estimates say that as many as 13 bodies in total were discovered, including a four month old fetus, and families are worried that there are more victims. Medical examiners estimate that the slayings had taken place between the years 2000-2005. The last two victims to be discovered were identified as Victoria Chavez and Gina Michelle Valdez.
The case remains unsolved. Families of the victims, and those of several other women who’ve gone missing in the area, have urged police to continue digging for more bodies and communicate better about their progress.
By Jamilah King
Photo courtesy of Young Women United |
Police say that a woman found the remains of one woman while walking her dog one day in early February, 2009. Some estimates say that as many as 13 bodies in total were discovered, including a four month old fetus, and families are worried that there are more victims. Medical examiners estimate that the slayings had taken place between the years 2000-2005. The last two victims to be discovered were identified as Victoria Chavez and Gina Michelle Valdez.
The case remains unsolved. Families of the victims, and those of several other women who’ve gone missing in the area, have urged police to continue digging for more bodies and communicate better about their progress.
February 2, 2011
Eleven women were found murdered in the desert in Albuquerque
By Adriann Barboa
Two years ago today, in a story that shook me to my core, a woman walking her dog found a femur in the desert. She alerted the police, who began a three-month dig, covering a vast area of the mesa near my home. The police found the bodies of 11 women, one of whom was four months pregnant. Many of the women were close to my age and grew up here like me. Were brown like me. Had struggled here, like me.
But when these women were found dead, President Obama did not come to town. There was no jam-packed memorial to mourn their lives cut short. What we had instead were devastated families whose greatest fear had been realized when their daughters' remains were discovered on the mesa.
As the story unfolded, terrible sounds echoed in my ears. Not the sounds of shovels in the desert, but the sound of these lives being erased. Not only through death, but through the official description of the events. The women were not brave heroes who faced histories of poverty, abuse and trauma with the best tools they could find. They were “addicts.” And because they used drugs, many earned money the best way they could—by selling sex. And so they were “prostitutes.” The authorities thought the story could begin and end there: bodies found, case closed. 11 more prostitutes dead. Done.
Two years ago today, in a story that shook me to my core, a woman walking her dog found a femur in the desert. She alerted the police, who began a three-month dig, covering a vast area of the mesa near my home. The police found the bodies of 11 women, one of whom was four months pregnant. Many of the women were close to my age and grew up here like me. Were brown like me. Had struggled here, like me.
But when these women were found dead, President Obama did not come to town. There was no jam-packed memorial to mourn their lives cut short. What we had instead were devastated families whose greatest fear had been realized when their daughters' remains were discovered on the mesa.
As the story unfolded, terrible sounds echoed in my ears. Not the sounds of shovels in the desert, but the sound of these lives being erased. Not only through death, but through the official description of the events. The women were not brave heroes who faced histories of poverty, abuse and trauma with the best tools they could find. They were “addicts.” And because they used drugs, many earned money the best way they could—by selling sex. And so they were “prostitutes.” The authorities thought the story could begin and end there: bodies found, case closed. 11 more prostitutes dead. Done.
February 1, 2011
Separate and unequal: the Hyde Amendment and women of color
By Jessica Arons and Madina Agénor
[This article was originally published by the Center for American Progress. The full report upon which this article is based can be found here.]
Abortion policy in this country does not treat all women equally. Even before Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973, affluent women were usually able to access abortion safely through a network of private doctors or by traveling to other states or countries where it was legal, while poor women risked their health, fertility, and often their lives to end a pregnancy. Unfortunately, because of a policy known as the Hyde Amendment, similar disparities and injustices still exist today—nearly 40 years after the Supreme Court declared that all women have a constitutional right to abortion.
The Hyde Amendment prohibits Medicaid, the joint federal-state health care program for the poor and indigent, from covering abortion care in almost all circumstances. Most people think of abortion as a “woman’s issue,” which of course it is. But the Hyde Amendment intentionally discriminates against poor women, who are disproportionately women of color. In this way, the Hyde Amendment is a policy that not only violates reproductive rights and principles of gender equity but one that undermines racial and economic justice as well.
Former U.S. Rep. Henry Hyde (R-IL), the law’s sponsor, admitted during debate of his proposal that he was targeting poor women because they were the only ones vulnerable enough for him to reach. “I certainly would like to prevent, if I could legally, anybody having an abortion, a rich woman, a middle-class woman, or a poor woman,” he said. “Unfortunately, the only vehicle available is the … Medicaid bill.”
[This article was originally published by the Center for American Progress. The full report upon which this article is based can be found here.]
The Hyde Amendment was “designed to deprive poor and minority women of the constitutional right to choose abortion.” — Justice Thurgood Marshall
Abortion policy in this country does not treat all women equally. Even before Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973, affluent women were usually able to access abortion safely through a network of private doctors or by traveling to other states or countries where it was legal, while poor women risked their health, fertility, and often their lives to end a pregnancy. Unfortunately, because of a policy known as the Hyde Amendment, similar disparities and injustices still exist today—nearly 40 years after the Supreme Court declared that all women have a constitutional right to abortion.
The Hyde Amendment prohibits Medicaid, the joint federal-state health care program for the poor and indigent, from covering abortion care in almost all circumstances. Most people think of abortion as a “woman’s issue,” which of course it is. But the Hyde Amendment intentionally discriminates against poor women, who are disproportionately women of color. In this way, the Hyde Amendment is a policy that not only violates reproductive rights and principles of gender equity but one that undermines racial and economic justice as well.
Former U.S. Rep. Henry Hyde (R-IL), the law’s sponsor, admitted during debate of his proposal that he was targeting poor women because they were the only ones vulnerable enough for him to reach. “I certainly would like to prevent, if I could legally, anybody having an abortion, a rich woman, a middle-class woman, or a poor woman,” he said. “Unfortunately, the only vehicle available is the … Medicaid bill.”