From Minnesota to Puerto Rico: How We Survive Together

In each of our communities, every day seems to announce itself. Whistles and shouts for our neighbors punctuate each hour, as blades of helicopters and flight drills slice through the air into the night. Increased military and federal government presence is visible, splitting images between the corners of our everyday lives and active battlefields. 

We write from two different places, often discussing them separately. We do, however, live as part of the same story.

From Minnesota to Puerto Rico, our struggles are one and the same. So is our strength. We are still here—not because the system is working, but because we work for each other. Maybe this is finally how we usher in a new world order.

(This essay is part of a collection presented by Ms. and the Groundswell Fund highlighting the work of Groundswell partners advancing inclusive democracy.)

Trump-Era Federal Layoffs Hit Black Women Hardest

There is a shift happening in the labor force that favors men in general, and white men in particular. And Black women—who historically have found more job security and upward mobility in federal employment—are now seeing those federal jobs slip away in record numbers.

“What we are seeing happening is a federal government that is intent on creating a DEI boogeyman to radically change how workplaces operate in ways that disadvantage women, people of color and LGBTQ workers,” says Gaylynn Burroughs, vice president for education and workplace justice at the National Women’s Law Center.

Oscar-Shortlisted Film ‘Belén’ Exposes the Injustice That Helped Transform Argentina’s Abortion Laws

Belén didn’t know she was pregnant until she miscarried in a hospital. She’d gone to the emergency room suffering excruciating abdominal pain. Instead of receiving care, she awoke from surgery handcuffed to her hospital bed and accused of having an illegal abortion.

This is the true story behind Belén, a powerful new Argentine film directed by, written by and starring Dolores Fonzi. It is based on the ordeal of a young woman from northern Argentina, chronicled in Ana Correa’s nonfiction book What Happened to Belén: The Unjust Imprisonment That Sparked a Women’s Rights Movement, the prologue of which was written by Margaret Atwood.

Despite a lack of evidence, Belén was charged with aggravated homicide and sentenced to eight years in prison.

After two years, Belén was freed, thanks to the legal work of activist and lawyer Soledad Deza and the sustained support of women’s organizations and women’s rights activists and movements, such as “Ni Una Menos” (Not One Less). Her case became a rallying cry for reproductive rights, with thousands taking to the streets under the banner #LibertadParaBelen (“Freedom for Belén”), paving the way for Argentina’s historic legalization of abortion in 2020.

Yearning to Breathe Free [Part 1 of 3]

In the matter of K-E-S-G-, a Salvadoran woman stalked and threatened by gang members was denied asylum by the U.S. Board of Immigration Appeals on July 18, even though her persecution stemmed from her gender in a country that treats women as property. Advocates warn that this ruling could make it much harder for women fleeing violence to prove gender-based claims and may embolden immigration judges to discount their stories.

“This isn’t the first time the Trump administration has singled out women seeking asylum, and we know where this path leads,” said Neela Chakravartula of the Center for Gender & Refugee Studies. “More judges denying protection to women who qualify for it. More refugees being deported to danger.”

The decision highlights the ongoing struggle to recognize gender as a protected basis for asylum. Afghan and Salvadoran women, among others, may now face even steeper barriers to protection—a chilling effect that experts say could deter survivors from seeking safety in the U.S.

This Hispanic Heritage Month, We Honor Immigrant Families by Fighting for Healthcare Justice

My family immigrated from Mexico to California when I was 3 years old. My brother wasn’t walking and was showing signs of physical delays. Unable to find answers back home, my parents sacrificed everything—our home, their small business, a familiar life—in search of a diagnosis, treatment and hope. This Latine Heritage Month, I’m reminded of the strength of the women in my family in the face of migration and uncertainty, and the extraordinary community in the U.S. that welcomed us. 

Immigrants have long been unable to healthcare because of coverage gaps or restrictions. Immigrant and migrant women have had especially difficult times getting access to abortions.

Healthcare access, including the full spectrum of reproductive care, can make or break lives. Nobody should be denied healthcare, no one should have to choose between paying for healthcare and rent, and no one should fear deportation for going to the doctor.

All of us should have access to care. Period.

(This essay is part of a collection presented by Ms. and the Groundswell Fund highlighting the work of Groundswell partners advancing inclusive democracy.)

New Mexico Will Be the First State to Make Childcare Free

In an unprecedented move, New Mexico is making childcare free. 

Beginning in November, it will be the first state in the nation to provide childcare to all residents regardless of income, Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham announced this week. The state has been working to lower child care care costs since 2019, when it created the Early Childhood Education and Care Department and started to expand eligibility for universal childcare.

The initiative is expected to save families $12,000 per child annually. 

“Childcare is essential to family stability, workforce participation and New Mexico’s future prosperity,” Lujan Grisham said in her announcement. “By investing in universal childcare, we are giving families financial relief, supporting our economy, and ensuring that every child has the opportunity to grow and thrive.”

A Houston Mother Held by ICE Must Choose: Indefinite Detention or Be Deported Without Her Family

Margarita Avila, a Houston mother of nine, was detained by ICE after an altercation that led to no charges. Her close-knit family weigh their futures if she is deported.

Margarita requested asylum in the U.S. more than a decade ago, and her case has been pending ever since. Meanwhile, she and José have grown their family in Texas, and like many other immigrants, they have put down deep roots. They bought a house in Houston’s Independence Heights neighborhood, started a landscaping business that grew to hundreds of customers and had five U.S.-born sons who are American citizens.

Because of their various immigration statuses (some undocumented, some pending asylum, some U.S. citizens) Margarita’s deportation would make it difficult and in some cases impossible to see her close-knit family. Her husband would have to decide whether to stay in the U.S. with their two youngest children or follow his wife to Belize so they can raise the boys together in a country Isaac and Jeremiah have never known. For the oldest children born in Belize, it could mean not seeing their mother for years because they don’t have permanent legal status.

Margarita Avila, 50, is among the tens of thousands of immigrants in the U.S. targeted for deportation in President Donald Trump’s second term. Trump has said his administration is going after “the worst of the worst” in an attempt to deport 1 million immigrants annually. But six months into Trump’s second administration, at least 70 percent of the more than 56,000 immigrants detained across the country didn’t have a criminal record.

State Courts Hold the Power to Free Us Or Erase Us

While national headlines fixate on the U.S. Supreme Court, state courts shape nearly every part of our lives. From traffic violations and business disputes to child custody and criminal charges, an estimated 95 percent of all legal cases in the United States are handled in state courts. 

State courts decide whether you can access abortion care, whether your protest leads to jail time, whether you keep custody of your child and whether your gender identity is protected or punished.

Despite their vast power, state courts remain one of the most overlooked battlegrounds—and opportunities—in the fight for justice. As organizers, we’ve seen the cost of that neglect. Now we’re calling on progressive movements to treat state courts not as a footnote, but as a headline.

(This essay is part of a collection presented by Ms. and the Groundswell Fund highlighting the work of Groundswell partners advancing inclusive democracy.)