What We Learned When We Stayed: What 50 Years of Care in the South Taught Us About Abortion and Trans Rights

We’ve been here before.

When Dobbs v. Jackson came for abortion care in our states, we did two things: We opened clinics across state lines so our patients would still have a legal option. And we stayed. We kept our original clinics open, expanding the care we’d always offered or always wanted to offer.

When U.S. v. Skrmetti came for gender-affirming care, we kept providing that too, because abortion care patients and transgender patients are not separate communities.

The calculation patients make before they walk through the door is identical for both communities: Will I be seen? Will I be safe? Will the person across from me treat my body with humanity, or like a problem to be managed?

June marks anniversaries of both Dobbs and Skrmetti, and that conviction has never felt more urgent. Long before these two cases, the intersection of abortion rights and trans rights was already living in our waiting rooms; in the patients who received reproductive care and gender-affirming hormone therapy under the same roof; in the person who drove hours across the state because we were the only provider they trusted; and in those who trust us with their whole-person care because their grandmothers, mothers, sisters, aunts and friends have relied on our clinics for care for 50 years.

Between our two organizations, we’ve earned a century’s worth of experience at the practice of staying and enduring. CHOICES has kept their doors open for 52 years, and the Women’s Health Centers of West Virginia and Maryland will celebrate 50 years of care on June 24—the same day Roe v. Wade was overturned four years ago.

Support independent clinics in hard places keeping the doors open. And when the next fight comes, show up for the communities under pressure. Remember that those targeted first won’t be the last, but they will be the ones to lead the way.

‘Access to Reproductive Choices Gave Me the Freedom To…’: 12 Answers We Can’t Stop Thinking About

Four years after Dobbs, it’s clear that reproductive freedom is not an abstract political issue. It is the freedom to build a life.

This week, we’re launching The Majority campaign—and we want you in it. The ask is simple: Finish the sentence, “Access to reproductive choices gave me the freedom to …”

The responses so far are from women and men, parents and nonparents, abortion patients and birth control users, people who needed miscarriage care, gender-affirming healthcare, fertility treatment, or simply the ability to decide their own future.

These are some of the stories we can’t stop thinking about.

The Majority Has Spoken on Abortion. Now We’re Sharing the Lives Reproductive Freedom Made Possible.

Four years after Dobbs overturned Roe v. Wade, the evidence is overwhelming: Reproductive freedom is not a fringe issue. It is a majority value.

You, or someone you love, has benefited from contraception, sex education, maternal care, assisted reproduction, miscarriage care or abortion. This isn’t a privilege we ask permission for. It’s a right millions of us exercise every day—legal or not, restricted or not, named or not.

On the fourth anniversary of Dobbs, Ms. is joining reproductive justice movement partners Center for Reproductive Rights and Reproductive Freedom for All to launch The Majority, a storytelling campaign centered on a simple question: What did access to reproductive choices give you the freedom to build?

One woman credits birth control with helping her manage PMOS (formerly PCOS) and pursue the education and career she dreamed of. A mother was able to raise the children she already had because she was not forced into a pregnancy she did not choose. Another mother received emergency reproductive healthcare and lived long enough to see her daughter grow up. A sister got to grow up alongside her younger brother because their mother had access to reproductive healthcare when she needed it. Young women were able to build lives on their own timeline—not one dictated by circumstance, politics or chance.

The campaign’s call to action is simple: Add your voice to the record and share the life you built. Then, once you’ve shared, use #TheLifeIBuilt to tell your story. Follow #TheMajority to hear from others doing the same.

‘Protesters Spit on Us’: Why This Wisconsin Abortion Clinic Escort Won’t Back Down

Molly (last name withheld for privacy), a 35-year-old clinic escort, says they will not be deterred from helping patients get the care they need at a Milwaukee clinic that provides abortions.

Molly outlines the current landscape of threats facing providers, the history that informs this moment, and what is at stake when violence against reproductive healthcare workers is minimized or ignored.

“Being an abortion escort appealed to me because I would be able to interact with people who were coming to the clinic to receive an abortion and give them support. …

“Abortion clinic escorts are doing de-escalation with radicalized people, and we have no weapons. We are a unique group of people with strong de-escalation training. … When I train new escorts, I tell them the names of some of our regular protesters: ‘This is Joe. This is Sam.’ I think names hold a lot of power, and if you know someone’s name, it takes away some of the fear. …

“I tell new escorts to approach a car slowly. Sometimes people arrive early and want to sit and take a breath. Sometimes they have children with them and are getting situated. … Then as they walk into the clinic, stand between them and the people shouting on the sidewalk to act as a physical sound barrier.

“What’s kept me coming back to this work is the other clinic escorts, who are all passionate about reproductive rights. You make incredible friends and build strong bonds when you spend so much time together. I advise other escorts, especially new people, to practice self-care after a shift. It’s not normal to be yelled at for hours. We get called ‘harlots,’ ‘jezebels’ and ‘sinners,’ so I encourage decompression time. Everybody has their own post-clinic ritual for self-centering. … I usually come home and do some baking. …

“I think the protesters believe we escorts have very sad lives. But I get to go home to a happy, loving place and a freshly cooked meal with my husband and two dogs.”

When it Comes to Consent, ‘Yes Means Yes’ Is Not Enough

In 1993, Saturday Night Live parodied a new affirmative consent policy at Antioch College with a sketch starring Mike Myers who asks explicit consent for each intimate act such as, “May I elevate the level of sexual intimacy by feeling your buttocks?” The joke landed because the policy seemed absurd—the punchline signaling political correctness run amok.

Decades later, affirmative consent policies like Antioch’s are now standard at universities across the country.

The arc from national ridicule to national norm was driven by survivors, educators, researchers and students themselves who pushed for a shift from “no means no” toward “yes means yes.” Advocates sought to articulate that women are not merely gatekeepers—survivors are not culpable for not articulating “no” (i.e. silence doesn’t equal consent). Instead, it’s on everyone to make sure they have a clear “yes.” This movement simultaneously sought to emphasize women’s sexual agency, empowering them to actively express “yes” to desired sexual encounters. 

Yet despite widespread adoption of affirmative consent policies on campuses, not much has changed. According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, rates of sexual violence on college campuses remain high, with one in five women and one in 16 men experiencing assault, and over 40 percent experiencing sexually harassing behavior.

This persistence suggests that consent alone cannot bear the weight we place upon it.

Abortion Rates Continue to Climb as Telehealth Reshapes Post-Dobbs America

Four years after Dobbs, a striking reality has emerged: Abortion bans have not eliminated the need for abortion.

Instead, new #WeCount data show that abortions have increased nationwide, driven in large part by the rapid expansion of telehealth and abortion pills by mail.

Even in states that have attempted to ban abortion entirely, patients continue to find ways to obtain care through shield-law providers, telehealth services and community-based networks.

The data also reveal how dramatically abortion care has changed. Telehealth now accounts for more than a quarter of all abortions provided within the formal healthcare system, offering many patients a safer, more affordable and more private alternative to in-person care.

For people living under bans and severe restrictions, it has become an essential lifeline—one that has reshaped where and how abortion care is delivered across the country.

Yet the numbers likely tell only part of the story. As antiabortion politicians and the Trump administration target mifepristone and telehealth abortion, providers are already adapting.

The lesson of the post-Dobbs era is clear: The demand for abortion has not disappeared, and despite relentless efforts to restrict it, people continue to find ways to access the care they need.

Ms. Global: Women Make Up Two-Thirds of Ebola Cases in DRC, Families Mourn Fishers Killed in Trump’s Boat Strikes and More

The U.S. ranks as the 19th most dangerous country for women, 11th in maternal mortality, 30th in closing the gender pay gap, 75th in women’s political representation, and painfully lacks paid family leave and equal access to healthcare. But Ms. has always understood: Feminist movements around the world hold answers to some of the U.S.’s most intractable problems.

Ms. Global is taking note of feminists worldwide.

This month: news from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, India, Denmark, Mexico and more.

‘Nope, You’re Fine’: This Black Doctor Nearly Died After Giving Birth in Reno

A first-person account from Dr. Bayo Curry-Winchell, a Black family physician and the medical director for Saint Mary’s Urgent Care Group in Reno, Nevada. Curry-Winchell nearly died after giving birth by C-section at her own hospital after repeated warnings that something was seriously wrong were dismissed. Her story—shared with writer Bonnie Fuller—underscores the stark realities of America’s maternal mortality crisis, which disproportionately endangers Black women regardless of education or income.

“I was 38 and had just delivered my second baby, a little girl, at the Reno hospital where I was a medical director at the time. …

“I remember holding my new daughter in the recovery room, then being wheeled into my hospital room. That’s when I started feeling like something wasn’t right. I didn’t feel like myself. I was having a hard time talking, and I was in a lot of pain. …

“I wasn’t capable of using my medical training in that moment. But I had to do something. I handed my phone to my husband, James, and told him to call my OB-GYN right away. … Dr. Jack believed him and came right back to the hospital. …

“It turned out that I still had retained products, including placenta and fetal tissue, in my uterus. Unfortunately, this can happen sometimes, especially after a prior C-section. I also was bleeding internally. I had lost so much blood, I had to have a transfusion. …

“American Black women have a very high maternal mortality rate, and I lived it myself. If my doctor had not believed my husband and me and returned to care for me, I would have been like other Black women you hear about passing away after giving birth.”

The Untapped Power of Post-Menopausal Women

Melinda French Gates announced last week a historic $215 million commitment to women’s health, including a $10 million gift to the Menopause Society. It is a beautiful and necessary act of generosity.

It arrives on the same day a new Mayo Clinic study showing hormone therapy use among menopausal women has dropped to a historic low of 1.7 percent—even as evidence of its safety has grown.

We are moving backward and forward at the same time.

French Gates put a spotlight on the fact that women’s health has been inexcusably underfunded. The questions to add to that conversation: What would medicine look like if it saw menopause not as nature’s mistake, but as evolution’s investment? What would our economy look like? What would our communities look like? What problems might we finally solve?

The science exists. The economic case is clear. And the legislative momentum is building. What is missing is the cultural shift that allows medicine, policy and society to see post-menopausal women not as a problem to manage, but as a resource we cannot afford to waste.

America’s Medical Research System Has Been Failing Women for Generations

For decades, women have been systematically excluded, overlooked and underfunded by America’s scientific and medical institutions—and the consequences are measurable. Women were not required to be included in federally funded clinical research until 1993, and even today, no more than 8.8 percent of NIH grant spending goes toward women’s health research. The result is a dangerous knowledge gap that affects everything from cardiovascular disease and autoimmune disorders to drug safety, maternal health and reproductive care.

The problem transcends partisan politics. While the Trump administration’s cuts to women’s health research have intensified concerns, Democratic and Republican administrations alike have failed to prioritize women’s health.

Private philanthropy and venture capital have also fallen short, with women’s health receiving just a fraction of available funding.

As women face rising healthcare deserts, worsening maternal mortality rates and persistent gaps in diagnosis and treatment, meaningful progress will require action on every front—from federal investment and philanthropy to innovative new funding models focused specifically on women’s health research.