There’s been a lot of talk in the news about black on black crime – mainly gang related, but the biggest repeat offender that is hurting the black community isn’t gang related, and it’s not heart disease, AIDS, cancer, homicide or diabetes either. That’s why the following article appearing on Ebony.com under the “Wellness & Empowerment” section is not only disturbing, but also misleading in many ways.
There’s nothing well or empowering about it. It’s a story about the lack of personal accountability and the number one killer in the black community – abortion.
It’s titled “I Just Had an Abortion: A black woman on making the best choice for herself, despite the stigmas and shaming attempts.” Author “Tasha Fierce” tries to explain the difference between abortion for black women versus abortion for white women:
Last month, I had an abortion.
I’ve been a strident advocate for a woman’s right to choose since I was a pre-teen, and it’s still difficult for me to say those words. So many assumptions about my life can be made on the basis of that admission, and the shame is real. For White women in American society, the shame of having an abortion is mainly centered on their individual behavior. For Black women, our behavior reflects on Black folks as a whole, specifically other Black women—so the scope of the shame is much wider. An unintended pregnancy can call your responsibility into question, and regardless of your age, the specter of the stereotypical Black teenage mother casts a long shadow.
Fierce then goes on to say that the rate of black abortions is five times greater than that of white abortions – which is generally true, but with good reason. Check out the statistics from Black Dignity, an organization helping to spread the word about abortion in the black community:
In America today, almost as many African-American children are aborted as are born. A black baby is three times more likely to be aborted as a white baby.
Since 1973, abortion has reduced the black population by over 25 percent. Twice as many African-Americans have died from abortion than have died from AIDS, accidents, violent crimes, cancer, and heart disease combined.
80 percent of abortion facilities are located in minority neighborhoods. About 13 percent of American women are black, but they receive over 35 percent of the abortions.
What follows next is either blaming the state of California and insurance companies for failing to get reproductive care in a certain matter of time (her time), not taking personal responsibility, or both:
I live in California, a state that has fully implemented the Affordable Care Act. The ACA mandates that insurance companies must cover contraception with no cost sharing. It doesn’t govern how health care providers decide to run their practices, however. Due to rising insurance deductibles, many doctors now require that patients pay for services up front to ensure they get paid. It’s up to the patient to wait for reimbursement from insurance companies. Women who purchase insurance through ACA exchanges or who have to use Medicaid often have difficulty finding a doctor that will even accept the reduced-cost polices, because they pay out less to health care providers. I had insurance through my employer, but I still ran into the up front cost issue with most of my doctors, whether I was trying to get reproductive care or just general lab tests done.
Fierce wrote that she mostly relied on condoms and contraceptive sponges as birth control, “…since the pill and other hormonal methods messed up with my mood something awful.” She had researched getting an IUD but her doctor wanted $700 up front and she didn’t have the money because “Coming up with $700 on the spot was not going to happen. I already had enough issues having to pay the premium for insurance I rarely used in addition to coughing up the co-pay and 20% of the cost of doctor visits. Bills, tuition, and day-to-day living expenses had to come first. I added an IUD to the long list of things I needed but couldn’t afford.”
This is interesting. Quick research on Planned Parenthood’s website reports an abortion “can cost up to $1,500 for abortion in the first trimester, but it's often less.”That’s a little more than twice the cost of that IUD Fierce wanted at the time, but couldn’t scrape enough money or wait to receive one from her insurance. When she found out she was pregnant, Fierce recounted:
I’m thinking to myself, For real? It’s cliché, but I never thought I'd end up in this situation. My immediate reaction was to say get this out of me, now. Out loud. The doctor wanted to wait and see if the “situation” would resolve itself. She was going on vacation, so she had me make an appointment to see her in 3 weeks.
She didn’t wait the three weeks. In what seems to be her justification for the need of an abortion, Fierce writes:
Within two days after I saw the doctor, I got laid off. The next day, I was hit hard with around the clock nausea and vomiting. I could barely keep water down. My doctor prescribed medication specifically for nausea and vomiting in pregnancy, but my insurance refused to cover it. I was practically praying for death. Over the course of a week, I had lost 7 lbs. I couldn’t see myself surviving for another 2 weeks without eating. Plus, my insurance coverage was going to lapse before I’d be able to see the doctor again. I decided I just needed to find a low-cost clinic and have an abortion before my insurance expired.
Describing her experience as she entered an abortion clinic:
As we pulled up, I noticed a group of White and Latino protesters outside the clinic shouting at patients entering. Whatever, I thought. I've heard this crap before. When my boyfriend and I got out of the car and started towards the entrance, their shouting changed from the general fare to a targeted "Did you know abortion is the number one cause of death in the African-American community?" In my mental and physical state, I really was not prepared to quietly accept a bunch of non-Black people using my race to guilt me out of getting an abortion. I snapped. How I was able to scream "Fuck you!" with as much force as I did being as weak as I was, I don't know. That rage was strong. My boyfriend restrained me from responding any further and rushed me inside.
Fierce says that she didn’t have any regrets about having an abortion and isn’t “haunted” by it, rather the exchange outside the abortion clinic “haunts” her. It has not even been a month and she believes she is immune to the emotional damage abortion causes.
At the end of her story, Fierce details the “blame game” that black women are faced with and the constant disrespect for the choices they make.
On the one hand, a Black woman who goes through with an unwanted pregnancy and ends up having to use social services is shamed for being irresponsible and “leeching” off the system. On the other, a Black woman who makes the decision to terminate a pregnancy when they know having a child isn't the best idea can be shamed for endangering the future of her race. I’m concerned for Black women that seek abortion who aren’t as comfortable with their individual decision as I am, and who may be shamed into changing their mind by anti-choice campaigns targeted at the Black community. As with too many other experiences I’ve had that should be strictly personal, my abortion ended up being one more reminder that Black women are so often damned if we do, damned if we don’t.
