More Than A Magazine, A Movement
All women should have the right to choose if or when to be mothers, and to have the economic and social support to do so. This choice has been restricted across time and place due to discriminatory legislation against mothers and pregnant people, lackluster social safety nets and anti-abortion/anti-birth control movements.
If you want a glimmer of hope that there are still sane, compassionate and intelligent politicians in the world, Prime Minister—winner of the Audience Award in the World Cinema Documentary Competition—will offer just that and more.
Former New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern’s sure-footed and community-minded approach to leadership shines through in this inspiring documentary directed by Michelle Walshe and Lindsay Utz.
Front & Center began as first-person accounts of Black mothers in Jackson, Miss., receiving a guaranteed income. Now in its fourth year, the series is expanding to explore broader systemic issues affecting Black women in poverty, including the safety net, healthcare, caregiving, and overall well-being.
Javonica, a 26-year-old mother in Jackson, Miss., has faced countless obstacles: navigating job instability, unreliable transportation, and a social safety net riddled with barriers. Despite completing technical college, she struggled to pass a certification test, and without a car, accessing childcare and work opportunities became nearly impossible. Now, as she prepares to welcome her third child, a guaranteed income program through the Magnolia Mother’s Trust is providing much-needed financial relief, allowing her to pay bills, care for her children and plan for a more stable future.
President Trump’s executive order banning decades of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) practices erodes the federal government’s ability to hold hospitals accountable for their treatment of Black women and role in improving Black maternal health. This is especially troubling as it comes a few weeks after the Biden Administration reached a historic settlement agreement between the United States Department of Health and Human Services, Office for Civil Rights (HHS OCR) and Cedars-Sinai Medical Center (Cedars-Sinai) in the Kira Johnson case.
In 2016, Kira Johnson tragically lost her life after giving birth to her second child through a routine C-section at Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles. Despite concerns voiced by Kira and her family about her condition, Kira was allowed to bleed internally for more than 10 hours before the medical staff took action.
Front & Center began as first-person accounts of Black mothers living in Jackson, Miss., receiving a guaranteed income. Moving into the fourth year and next phase of this series, we’re expanding our focus beyond a single policy intervention to include a broader examination of systemic issues impacting Black women experiencing poverty. This means diving deeper into the interconnected challenges they face—including navigating the existing safety net; healthcare, childcare and elder care; and the importance of mental, physical and spiritual well-being.
“I’m lucky if I get four or five hours a day of sleep, but it’s what I have to do to make sure my kids are taken care of and I have enough money to cover all my bills. … When I was part of the Magnolia Mother’s Trust, I was able to just work one job. … I hate that it’s over, I really wish leaders would create a policy like that that would be permanent.”
Last September, the National Partnership for Women and Families reported the wage gap for all women workers had widened to 75 cents for every dollar men earned, representing a 3-cent decrease in real pay per hour for women.
While on the surface this may seem negligible in a paycheck, even a seemingly small increase in wage disparity dramatically impacts the significant gains in pay since the 1980s. American Progress reports that with this current backslide, it will now take until 2068 to close the wage gap.
A 38-year-old single mother in Jackson shares her struggles with poverty, systemic barriers and the daily sacrifices she makes to create a better future for her children—and why real change begins with investing in Black women like her.
Front & Center began as first-person accounts of Black mothers living in Jackson, Miss., receiving a guaranteed income. Moving into the fourth year and next phase of this series, we’re expanding our focus beyond a single policy intervention to include a broader examination of systemic issues impacting Black women experiencing poverty. This means diving deeper into the interconnected challenges they face—including navigating the existing safety net; healthcare, childcare and elder care; and the importance of mental, physical and spiritual well-being.
Assisted reproductive technology is more an art than a science—and until the success rates for certain groups drastically improve, doctors are foisting fairy tales onto vulnerable women.
IVF was a hot button issue in this year’s election. But today’s discussion about whether IVF should remain legal leaves out a fundamental point: It assumes that IVF works. This is, however, far from the truth for many—especially Black and Brown women and older women—for whom assisted reproductive technology is far from a miracle cure.
Why are we selling women on the idea that they can easily get pregnant after 40 when we know that’s exceedingly rare? The answer is money.
When doctors discovered a concerning spot during Martresa’s routine checkup, they urged her to come in immediately for further tests and treatment. But as a single mother caring for both her chronically ill mother and young daughter, Martresa faced an impossible choice. With no paid leave or caregiving support, seeking treatment meant potentially losing her job and health insurance. Like so many, she made the decision to put her family’s care before her own. A few years later, Martresa received an alarming cancer diagnosis—the consequence of a system that forces us to choose between work, caring for ourselves and caring for the people we love. It’s not a real choice at all.
The new Republican-dominated Congress has already begun preparations for debating new tax legislation, and Martresa’s story illuminates what’s at stake. Will the U.S. continue to enrich those whose wealth is already unimaginable, or will Congress invest in families and the care that families need in order to work?
Brides shouldn’t be thinking about homework just before their wedding day. But when I entered into an arranged marriage with a 28-year-old stranger, I was still just a 17-year-old girl who loved her private British school and her books and cricket—and so I found myself thinking about a creative-writing assignment I had recently finished. I’d written a story about a young woman who wore jewelry in the shapes of snakes. I wrote that they suddenly came to life and they slithered up to her throat, strangling her.
As someone who was forced into a life I never chose, I am appalled that women, who are more empowered than ever, are effectively choosing a life without choice—putting themselves in a prison of their own making.
Front & Center began as first-person accounts of Black mothers living in Jackson, Miss., receiving a guaranteed income. Moving into the fourth year and next phase of this series, we’re expanding our focus beyond a single policy intervention to include a broader examination of systemic issues impacting Black women experiencing poverty. This means diving deeper into the interconnected challenges they face—including navigating the existing safety net; healthcare, childcare and elder care; and the importance of mental, physical and spiritual well-being.
“The money I received made a huge difference in my life and my children’s happiness. We were able to go on more family outings, like visiting arcades, which brought us a lot of joy. … One thing that could still make a huge difference in my life is consistent financial stability and support—I really wish our government would invest in things that help people like guaranteed income, stimulus checks and affordable housing.”