July 28, 2014

Echoing Ida Educates Us on the History of Gynecology the Impact on Black Women's Bodies

Last week, Echoing Ida writers Cynthia Greenlee and Gloria Malone showed us the impact that history has on our present day views of Black women's bodies and the way we treat them.

At The Guardian, Cynthia Greenlee discussed the recent Johns Hopkins Health System settlement that saw a $190 million payout because over 12,000 victims were recorded during pelvic exams by a physician and his pen camera between 1988 and 2013. While this news may shock some readers, Cynthia explains that this isn't really a new phenomenon - in fact, it's this type of invasion of privacy that gynecology was founded on.


As "women's medicine" became a more popular specialty, medical students often polished their skills, such as they were, on black women because it was distinctly improper to lift the skirts and peer at the genitalia of white women. J Marion Sims, called the father of gynecology, honed his craft and developed his namesake Sim's speculum – one of the essential medical instruments for OB-GYNS to this day – through public and private examinations and operations on enslaved women (and later on impoverished Irish immigrants) suffering from gynecological conditions like fistulas. He performed these procedures mostly without anesthesia because, like many of his colleagues, he opined that black women were almost impervious to pain. Today, he's memorialized by statues in New York's Central Park and at the South Carolina State Capitol. 

The Hopkins settlement is thus the latest chapter in an all-too American story: black women's bodies have rarely been seen as private, are rarely accorded the same feelings or rights to consent as white women's bodies and were more often subjected to individual doctors' prurient interests or medical research.  

To this day, women who are poor, urban, black and brown have fewer choices of physician or facility. Specialists are often few and far between in America's urban corridors and rural spaces, and the numbers dwindle when you consider those who accept Medicaid. It's particularly difficult for patients – and particularly low-income ones – receiving subsidized care to question men in white doctors' coats. And in a system where a few doctors or clinics hold the key to services, it's understandable that you wouldn't want to jeopardize your care with even a valid complaint – or that lingering feeling that those brushes against your breast weren’t accidental.

Over at RH Reality Check, Gloria Malone, who recently visited Kara Walker's A Subtlety, or the Marvelous Sugar Baby, noticed that people were posing in sexual and obscene manners with this beautiful and moving piece of art. She illustrates the connection between these acts of degradation towards Black women's bodies and the historic, yet inhumane actions of Dr. J. Marion Sims.


While some people regard the photos as a “joke,” critics saw the photos as a continuation of the pain Black women have lived with and continue to live with, from the forced sterilization of many Black women and women of color in the past and today, and Black women and women of color having birth control tested on them.  

The controversial photos taken at the exhibit are not only troublesome because they disrespect the art, but because the mocking and dehumanization of the Black female body has a long history in our society. 

After seeing the photos, I wanted to know how spectators could in good conscious photograph in sexually suggestive ways an installation that eerily replicated a position of one of Dr. J. Marion Sims’ enslaved Black female victims; this photo is one of the few available that presents as human mostly nameless and devalued Black women whose bodies were used to build the modern field of women’s reproductive health.

While we can't change the past injustices that were done to hurt, violate, and humiliate our foremothers, we can explain how history is doomed to repeat itself unless we value Black women's bodies and stop viewing them as 'things' to experiment on. Perhaps once we view Black women as human, they will be able to to receive empowering care to keep their bodies healthy - like the healthcare they were harmed to create.

July 10, 2014

Gloria Malone Dispels the Myth of the #NiceGentrifier

by Gloria Malone

While conversations about gentrification have taken off in the mass media, people of color who live in communities that are being gentrified have been dealing with systemic displacement long before these conversations started.

One of the most recent catalysts for the gentrification conversation came from film director Spike Lee in response to a question asked by an audience member at an event. Lee spoke fervently about his opposition to gentrification and the notion that it somehow improves the lives of the very same people and families it displaces. The myth of the “nice gentrifier” has emerged as a way to continue the myth that gentrification improves the lives of long term and often times lifelong poor individuals who live in communities they are being priced out.
This is something I know all too well. I’ve heard comments like, “I would be the best gentrifier ever”, “I’m a nice gentrifier because…[insert reason here]”, and “I’m not gentrifying a community, I’m improving it.” These comments are dangerous because they are a way for a gentrifier to continue to take part in the systemic removal of poor people from their communities. They are harmful because this lie is perpetuated in their circle of friends or investors causing more to flock to the ‘new place to be’ while raising the cost of living and forcing poor people to be removed from their homes. While the ‘nice gentrifier thinks they are ‘saving’ a community, they are not and that belief is from their own savior complex; a belief that a community needs to be ‘fixed’ and ‘saved’ and unable to support themselves.

After reading an article about a coffee vendor being told he can no longer sell coffee because Starbucks moved into the same business plaza, I could not help but to think of the ways in which individuals who believe gentrification is good would explain this away. I created the 
#NiceGentrifier hashtag as a way to highlight the “nice gentrifier logic” and explain how flawed, ridiculous, and harmful this thinking is.







To those who say simply tweeting #nicegentrifier is not enough, you are right. However, it was a way for me to explain my frustrations with gentrification and elevate the conversation. The hashtag was not created to fix anything. There are many local organizations, in the very same communities being gentrified, who have been fighting for decades for equal and affordable housing and supporting local business, with little to no financial support. Look them up in your community, donate to them, and volunteer for them. Go to your local public hearings about raising rent and zonings, look up your local community board and attend meetings, volunteer for local officials who campaign for affordable quality housing opportunities in your community (but make sure they are not funded by major real estate brokers who have a history of not supporting our communities).


#NiceGentrifier is an addition to an ongoing conversation. Let’s keep talking.

July 2, 2014

Echoing Ida Writers Explain How the Hobby Lobby Decision Hurts Black Women

As you may have heard the Supreme Court issued a disappointing 5-4 decision on Monday stating that Hobby Lobby's owner's religious beliefs can extend to the company, thus creating another barrier to birth control for working families. At a time when women are already facing so many challenges to accessing healthcare, this decision cuts a deeper wound for Black women.

Echoing Ida writers: Amber Phillips, Elizabeth Dawes Gay,
Gloria Malone, Renee Bracey Sherman
The decision allows for-profit companies to refuse to cover emergency contraception and IUDs, which can cost up to $1,000 without insurance. In her dissenting opinion, Justice Ginsberg noted that this could cost a minimum wage employee their entire month's paycheck. “It bears note in this regard that the cost of an IUD is nearly equivalent to a month’s full-time pay for workers earning the minimum wage," she writes.

In March, our Echoing Ida writers were at the Supreme Court speaking about the need to protect access to contraception for our communities. They foreshadowed the issues that we will now be facing with this new decision. This week, the Echoing Ida writers were out in full force writing about the devastating impact this decision will have for Black families.

At EBONY, Elizabeth Dawes Gay explains how many families receive their insurance from private companies and illustrates the widespread impact it could have.

"In 2011, more than half of Black people were covered by private (usually employer-sponsored) health insurance, either through their own employer or that of a family member, and 57 million adult women of all races were covered through employer-sponsored insurance.  If the behavior of companies like Hobby Lobby becomes the norm rather than the exception, it could impact contraceptive access for millions of people in the U.S. and have a disproportionate impact on Black women who, with lower income and wealth on average, may not be able to afford to pay for their contraception out-of-pocket."

For RH Reality Check, Renee Bracey Sherman reminds us that Black women have a maternal mortality rate three times that of White women. Withholding access to contraception can lead to death for many women.
"As with all women, Black women use birth control for both medical conditions and to prevent pregnancy—but Black women have a maternal mortality rate three times that of white women. When employers deny access to birth control, they are actually putting Black women’s lives in danger."
In her piece, Echoing Ida writer Cynthia Greenlee highlights the need to have a range of birth control options for Black women. She explains that the Hobby Lobby decision is tantamount to birth control method discrimination.
"According to 2009-2012 statistics from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 58 percent of non-Hispanic black women 20 years and older are considered obese. Of that same population demographic, some 44 percent have high blood pressure. Those women probably shouldn’t access some of the most popular forms of hormonal contraception or should do so under a doctor’s care. Either way, they need a full slate of contraceptive choices, and men and women who are happy with their contraceptive choices are more likely to use them correctly."
Over at Colorlines, Miriam Zoila Perez explains three ways the Hobby Lobby decision is worse for women of color. In addition to highlighting Dawes Gay and Bracey Sherman's articles, Zoila Perez points out the historical context of this issue as well.
"Women of color have already had to deal with a long history of reproductive control at the hands of employers and the government. From slave owners’ manipulation of Black women’s reproduction, to non-consensual sterilization of Latinas in public hospitals, to welfare reform and family caps limiting the number of children welfare recipients can have, women of color have long had to fight for the right to control their own reproduction. This case just adds another layer to controlling fertility, this time at the hands of employers."
We know this issue isn't only about Hobby Lobby and its employees - it's also about the 71 other companies with pending litigation and refusal to cover birth control, their employees, and families across the nation. As the old adage goes, 'history repeats itself'. Let's work together, organize, and make sure that this decision doesn't hurt our communities like it has in the past.