A Single Abortion Clinic Closing Rarely Makes Headlines. What Happens When None Are Left?

Picture a map of the United States. It’s 2022, and in southern states like Texas and Tennessee, there are clusters of black dots that represent independent clinic closures. These are abortion care black holes: communities where it’s no longer possible to get an abortion at a nearby clinic.

Fast forward to present. It’s 2026, four years after the Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, and black dots have multiplied in states across the country. It no longer matters if the state is red or blue, governed by conservatives or progressives. None are immune to the increasing weight of political pressure, financial strain and operational difficulty that are forcing independent clinics to close or stop providing abortion care.

Each of these black dots is a community suffering a healthcare crisis, and they are proliferating across the United States at a rapid rate.

Independent clinics are often the only places to get clinical abortion care, unbiased information and support for pregnancy options. They are where people go to feel safe and respected, whether they are getting an abortion, continuing a pregnancy or getting gender-affirming care. In small towns and rural spaces, these clinics are often the only safe place for many people, especially those who are LGBTQIA+. If clinics close, there is often nowhere else to go.

And once abortion clinics close, it’s not as simple as reopening when they can, if they can. Even if a specific restriction is lifted, severe financial constraints, continued political hostility, threats of violence and legal uncertainty still stand.

The Mask Is the Message

Most of us have seen the photograph by now.

I keep coming back to the masks.

Masks have always carried meaning. A surgeon wears one to protect a patient. Someone recovering from an illness wears one to protect themselves and others. A firefighter wears one to survive long enough to save someone else.

But when someone covers their face while intimidating another person, threatening a community, or committing a crime, the purpose isn’t protection. It’s concealment. It’s a way of saying: I want to do this, but I don’t want anyone to know it was me. That’s why Patriot Front marches with their faces covered.

Federal immigration agents carrying out arrests in public places wear face coverings for the same reasons: They create anonymity. They make accountability harder. They allow participants to disappear back into ordinary life once the march is over. They make denial easier.

I’ve participated in protests and marches over the years alongside hundreds—sometimes thousands—of people. Not one of us wore a mask. We stood behind our words and convictions. We accepted that our names belonged with our beliefs.

‘Hands Off Ohio!’: FBI Raid of Voting Rights Group Raises Alarms Over Voter Intimidation

On the morning of June 11, agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation raided the Cleveland offices of the Ohio Organizing Collaborative (OOC), a grassroots pro-democracy organization focused on registration, civic engagement and community organizing for marginalized communities.  

According to reports, agents seized documents and computer files and questioned staff members for several hours. Investigators also contacted employees and community leaders at their homes, workplaces and schools. While some agents reportedly carried subpoenas and asked questions related to voter fraud, officials have not publicly explained the specific focus of the investigation.  

The mission of the OOC is to build power among everyday Ohioans through racial, social and economic justice organizing. In the aftermath of the raid, many local leaders and voting rights advocates expressed concern that the investigation could discourage voter registration and civic participation ahead of the 2026 midterm elections.

Revisiting the Speech That Made America See Farmworkers: Dolores Huerta and the Power of Saying, ‘We Exist’

In 1965, the National Farm Workers Association announced their decision to join the striking Agricultural Workers Organizing Committee on Sept. 16—Mexican Independence Day. The choice of date reflected the hybrid identity of Chicanos: straddling Mexican and American cultures, Spanish and English, rooted in the old country but with branches fully extended into the new one.

This was the identity Huerta embodied.

Huerta maintained a heavy bilingual speaking schedule to keep up mo­rale. In addition to the typical challenges of organizing, the farmworkers were standing up against bigotry and asserting their American identity—attaching their cause to the Civil Rights Movement.

“Abajo con racism! Down with rac­ism!” Huerta sometimes ended her speeches. “Viva la union! Viva la causa!”

The people in power, the ones who owned the companies that sold the food or wrote laws in the statehouse, had been able to ignore people like the farmworkers—the people who toiled out of sight to keep the system going.

Now, a crowd of people had walked across the state to watch Huerta declare: “We are here and we embody our needs for you.”

(Excerpted from the book ALL WE SAY: The Battle for American Identity: A History in 15 Speeches by Ben Rhodes.)

The Equal Rights Amendment and the First Amendment: A Roadmap for a Feminist Future

Donald Trump’s jingoistic whitewashing of the 250th anniversary of the founding of our country will no doubt celebrate the 1773 Boston Tea Party, where the Sons of Liberty protested oppressive British import taxes. But throughout American history, women activists—the Daughters of Liberty to suffragists, journalists and civil rights advocates—have been making patriarchal governments tremble, by taking full advantage of the precious rights protected by the First Amendment: freedom of speech, freedom of the press, the right to peaceably assemble, and the right to petition the government for redress of grievances. 

That same spirit must now drive the final push to secure the Equal Rights Amendment. Although the ERA has been ratified by the required 38 states, it has yet to be officially recognized as part of the Constitution.

The First Amendment gives us the tools to change that: by speaking out, organizing, protesting and demanding that elected leaders make constitutional equality a national priority.

‘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.

‘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.”

Resisting in Plain Sight: Six Everyday Acts of Resistance in the Age of Trump

The Trump administration’s relentless assaults on anything that threatens its narrow vision of the status quo—one rooted firmly in patriarchy and racism—have made something unexpectedly clear: Authoritarians target culture because culture shapes how we understand ourselves.

Activities we once considered leisure, education or self-expression have become forms of resistance, simply because they affirm the people and communities this administration seeks to silence, exclude or erase.

Here are six examples.

A Case for Court Reform

For generations, Americans have expanded the meaning of “We, the People”—not because our institutions did it on their own, but because ordinary people demanded it.

From U.S. Rep. Barbara Jordan’s powerful reminder that the Constitution did not originally include everyone, to the hard-fought victories that secured civil rights, voting rights and reproductive freedom, our democracy has always depended on people pushing institutions to live up to their promises.

Today, the Supreme Court stands at the center of that struggle.

While courts remain an essential safeguard against abuses of power, public confidence in the Court has eroded amid ethics concerns, increasing politicization and decisions that have narrowed rights and weakened democratic protections.

If the Court is to serve as a guardian of liberty for future generations, it must be willing to change—through reforms that promote accountability, transparency and greater public trust.

As the nation marks its 250th anniversary, we should remember that our institutions are not fixed. The Constitution was designed to evolve, and the Court has changed before in response to the demands of the American people. Whether through term limits, stronger ethics rules or other structural reforms, the question is not whether the Court can change, but whether we will insist that it does.

A democracy that truly serves all of us depends on nothing less.

(This is part of a new series FEMINIST 250: Democracy’s Feminist Future, a special Ms. series examining the next chapter of U.S. democracy through a feminist lens. As the nation approaches its 250th anniversary, the series explores how women and marginalized communities have shaped democratic progress, what lessons history offers for the challenges ahead, and how a more inclusive, representative and equitable democracy can be built for the next 250 years.)

For the People: The Case for a Cabinet-Level Department of Democracy

For 250 years, women and marginalized communities have fought to expand democracy, yet the institutions of government still were not designed with their full participation in mind. That is why I propose a Department of Democracy: an independent, permanent institution dedicated to protecting voting rights, safeguarding civic participation and holding government accountable to the people it serves.

Just as the federal government maintains departments devoted to national defense and economic stability, it should establish a Department of Democracy with the authority to enforce voting rights protections, monitor threats to democratic participation and ensure every citizen has meaningful access to the ballot box. The goal is not to navigate a flawed system, but to redesign and strengthen democracy so it reflects the people who have always sustained it.

Through a Department of Democracy, we can build a durable safeguard against democratic erosion and create a government that is more representative, responsive and accountable for the next 250 years.

(This is part of a new miniseries FEMINIST 250: Democracy’s Feminist Future, a special Ms. series examining the next chapter of American democracy through a feminist lens. As the nation approaches its 250th anniversary, the series explores how women and marginalized communities have shaped democratic progress, what lessons history offers for the challenges ahead, and how a more inclusive, representative and equitable democracy can be built for the next 250 years.)