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Right to abortion | The anger and hope of an influential activist

(Atlanta) Monica Simpson is late, but it’s because of Donald Trump.


Posted at 1:11 a.m.

Updated at 6:00 a.m.

“I’m sorry, the streets are blocked, he’s in town…”

As I wait for him in a coffee shop on Peachtree Avenue in downtown Atlanta, I think to myself: This won’t be the first time the former president has slowed down.

The reproductive rights activist grants me a rare interview three weeks before the presidential election.

Times are tough in Georgia, where abortion after six weeks of pregnancy was criminalized in 2022.

Last month, Amber Nicole Thurman, 28, died from complications after using the abortion pill. She was scheduled to undergo a procedure to expel the fetus, but the hospital made her wait 20 hours before treating her. It was too late. A doctor performing an abortion faces a prison sentence of up to 10 years in Georgia.

A few weeks earlier, Candi Miller, a 41-year-old mother of three, died of a blazing infection, also after rare complications. Fearing that her case did not fit the exceptions to the anti-abortion law, she purchased abortion pills online. She was afraid to see a doctor. She died at home.

PHOTO YVES BOISVERT, THE PRESS

Monica Simpson

“Completely preventable deaths, and 100% due to the ban on abortion,” Simpson said. This is what we expected when the law was adopted. »

It is in this context that, on September 30, an Atlanta judge declared the law unconstitutional because it infringes on the right of Georgian women to make decisions affecting their lives and health.

Then, last week, unsurprisingly, the Georgia State Supreme Court overturned that decision.

“What makes me the most angry is that we live in a state where the governor [Brian Kemp] is more interested in political games than in people’s health,” says Monica Simpson1named by Time Magazine in his list of the 100 most influential people in the United States. The BBC included her in its list of 100 influential women in the world for her work.

Simpson runs SisterSong, an organization promoting reproductive justice for women of color. Abortion rights are just one aspect of her work, which focuses as much on sex education and contraception as medical care (black women are two and a half times more likely than white women to die to childbirth in the United States) and support for young mothers.

All things to which she did not have access in her youth, and which are still sorely lacking.

“Abortion was something white girls did,” says the 45-year-old organizer. Not us.

– For what ?

— We had our babies. Abortion was wrong. Point. The community would take care of it. People in black communities are so rooted in their church.

“No one was talking about sex except to talk about abstinence, but clearly everyone was doing it!” At 13 or 14, that was the norm. There was nothing else to do in Wingate… We were all sitting together, looking at each other… so it ended up happening. »

In this small North Carolina town, whites and blacks were sharply separated. “Not legally, not at school, but in our lives, and everyone thought it was normal. »

As she was one of the best students, she understood that pregnancy would put an end to her university ambitions. “I had one goal: not to get pregnant before I graduated. I was the one who went to buy condoms for everyone. »

Propelled into enriched classes, where she was the only African-American, she was rejected by her black friends for standing “with the white people”. But, as the only Black among the white students, she was not welcome either. “It was an interesting place, basically. It was formative. »

Arriving at the historically black Johnson C. Smith University in South Carolina, she finally came out as queer. What she thought was a liberation, in this progressive environment, became a nightmare. “It was really scary on campus. There were death threats. Gays were getting beaten by football players. »

Not that at other universities things were so different, but there again the religious roots of black communities were at play, she said.

“The pastor said it was simply wrong, and it went down very badly in the community. »

When a friend told her she was pregnant at university and wanted an abortion, she told him: “No, let’s see, we’ll take care of it.” »

“She knew that it would put an end to her studies and couldn’t believe that I, who had done my coming outI react like that. It opened my eyes. I took her to the clinic. There were people with signs. At the pride parade too. No matter what you do in this country to assert your freedom, there are protesters. Everywhere. In the face of anything that is not heteronormative. »

The first family visits of the woman who would become his wife created discomfort at home. “I decided that I wasn’t going to lose my family, that they were going to get used to it. The weird looks have subsided, and now it’s just normal. Recently, a friend’s mother refused to go to her wedding with a woman. My mother said, “I’ll be your mother for a day.” »

But things aren’t changing that much in her hometown, she says. “We stopped in my small town on a tour two years ago. I heard the same stories from women as I did 30 years ago. Doctors who don’t listen to black women. Limited access to health care. The lack of sex education…

“People are dying because of racism in the health care system. »

Since the shutdown Dobbsthe number of abortions in the United States has not decreased. The Pew Research Center estimates that just over 1 million abortions occurred in the year following the ruling and the implementation of bans (in 13 states) and restrictions (in 28 states). That’s an 11% increase from 2020, according to the Guttmacher Institute. Criminalization has not curbed abortions. It has made them more dangerous, more expensive, more complicated.

“It’s depressing, but it started way before Dobbsbefore Trump. Since 2010, we have seen hundreds of laws introduced in different states. We saw propaganda paid for by a group in Texas, like this poster in New York: “The most dangerous place for an African-American is a womb.” »

Should we point out that Monica Simpson is the subject of constant threats and intimidation?

“Look, I’m a queer black woman talking about body autonomy, abortion, and sex in the American South…I expect that. Alas. I have never lived in a world where this was not my reality. »

The question in Georgia is whether the right to abortion, supported by the majority, will influence the vote. Unlike Arizona and Florida, where a referendum is held on the issue, the issue is not on the ballot (Georgia does not allow popular initiative referendums).

“I think it’s going to have a major impact,” Simpson said. Two women died here because of the ban. Women must leave the state to have an abortion. And then how do you think they are cared for?

— Do you think American men are ready to elect a woman president?

— Are much better! »

She bursts out laughing.

“Do I believe that sexism, patriarchy, misogyny will affect the outcome? Of course, especially a black woman with Southeast Asian heritage. We haven’t created an environment in this country where men respect women in general, so to get to a woman president is quite a leap.

“Still, I’m optimistic. This week, Georgians voted in record numbers early. People care about the future of the country. I’m holding on to that. »

1. Monica Simpson appears in Fear in my stomachdocumentary by Léa Clermont-Dion on the rise of anti-abortion groups since the invalidation of Roe c. Wade. It will be presented on October 21 on Télé-Québec and at the Cinémania festival on November 15.

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