Equity Cannot Wait: Confronting the Unequal Burden of HIV and AIDS on Women of Color

Women have been part of the HIV/AIDS epidemic since the beginning, yet their experiences were long marginalized in research, surveillance and public narratives that focused primarily on white gay men.

As the United States marked National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day on Tuesday, the data tell a stark story: Black and Latina women continue to bear a disproportionate burden of HIV, shaped by systemic inequities that affect access to prevention, testing, treatment and long-term care.

Today, women account for more than one in five people living with HIV in the United States, but racial disparities remain severe. Black women represent about half of new HIV diagnoses among women despite making up only 13 percent of the U.S. female population, while Latina women experience diagnosis rates nearly six times higher than white women. These disparities are even more pronounced for transgender women—especially Black and Latina transgender women—underscoring that ending the epidemic requires confronting the structural inequities that continue to drive unequal risk and unequal access to care.

‘Lone Star Three’: How Three UT Austin Students Paved the Way for Birth Control Access in 1960s Texas

In 1969 Victoria Foe, Judy Smith and Barbara Hines were students at the University of Texas in Austin when Smith invited Foe and Hines to attend women’s liberation meetings at her house. Their discussions led them to start a campus Birth Control Information Center and eventually evolved into an underground network that helped women access safe abortion at a time when it was illegal in Texas. 

Their activism would eventually extend far beyond their university campus, planting the seeds for Roe v. Wade, the landmark Supreme Court decision that would legalize abortion in the U.S. Not until 1965 did birth control in the U.S. become legal for married women. Not until 1972 did it become legal for anyone, married or unmarried, to access birth control.

A new documentary, Lone Star Three, directed by Karen Stirgwolt, tells the story of the women who formed the underground networks that allowed young women to access reproductive care in Texas in the days leading up to Roe v. Wade. Ms. recently spoke with Foe and Hines (Smith passed away in 2013), and archivist Alice Embree, about their activism from the 1960s to the present moment.

Trump Touts a ‘Roaring Economy.’ Families Say Otherwise.

In his State of the Union address, President Trump opened by boasting about a roaring economy, falling inflation and a richer and stronger nation. But those claims ring hollow for many Americans who feel economic security slipping further out of reach, a reality made worse by the policies he and his Republican Congress have championed.

In Tucson, Ariz., Angelica Garcia begins most mornings waiting for her Lyft app to ping. She’s a driver raising three children in a two-bedroom apartment that costs $1,400 a month. Her summer electric bills hover around $300. At the grocery store, it costs her over $100 just to cover basic essentials. Angelica and her children rely on Medicaid and SNAP. Medicaid covered her daughter’s broken arm and her son’s tonsil surgery. “It’s been a blessing. A godsend,” she says.

But her representative in Congress, Juan Ciscomani (R), voted to cut Medicaid and SNAP and to impose new work requirements.

Meanwhile, in Iowa, a retired woman named Jill is enrolled in a Marketplace healthcare plan that once cost her $75 a month thanks to enhanced Affordable Care Act subsidies. But when Republicans voted against extending those subsidies, her premium jumped to nearly $800 a month.

Her representative in Congress, Marianette Miller-Meeks (R), voted to let those subsidies expire.

In Eau Claire, Wis., Erin Klaus has spent 17 years building up and running her small business. Erin’s representative in Congress, Derrick Van Orden (R), voted to protect Trump’s tariffs—tariffs that made small businesses like hers pay upfront, even as multinational corporations are better positioned to shift supply chains or pass along costs.

The Intensity and Perfectionism That Drive Olympic Athletes Also Put Them at High Risk for Eating Disorders

Olympians—athletes at the top of their sport and in prime health—are idolized and often viewed as superhuman. These athletes spend their lives focusing on building physical strength through rigorous training and diets that are honed to provide the nutrients necessary to excel at their sport.

However, athletes are at considerable risk for eating disorders and having an unhealthy relationship with food and their bodies.

Lindsey Vonn Redefines The Limits of Possibility 

Last Sunday, I woke before dawn to watch 41-year-old ski legend Lindsey Vonn race Olympic downhill at the Milano Cortina Games—the oldest woman ever to start the event and the first to do so with a knee replacement. Nearly seven years after retiring, she returned to the Olympic start gate with a torn ACL and decades of accumulated injuries, propelled by the same resolve that once made her the most decorated female alpine skier in history.

As I watched her charge down the course, cheered on by teammates, family and a global audience, I found myself asking the same question reverberating across sports media: Could she once again defy the limits imposed on her body, her age and her ambition?

When Vonn crashed seconds into the run, the reaction revealed just how persistent those limits still are. While elite skiers—men and women alike—routinely crash when pushing for hundredths of a second, her fall was framed by some as proof that a 41-year-old injured woman had overreached, rather than as the calculated risk that defines downhill racing. What moved me most wasn’t just the loss of a potential medal but the familiar scrutiny that followed: critiques of her age, her body and her decision to try at all. Her return alone had already stretched what we imagine is possible for women in sport. The fall, though painful to witness, underscored something more enduring—her insistence on defining her own limits in a world still unsettled when women refuse to accept theirs.

The Incomplete Story of Menopause: Where Medical Racism, Patriarchy and White Empiricism Intersect

Like many of the women in my family, I had early menopause and had completed the process by the age of 50, the same as my mother.

The alarming truth is that we know more about reproductive organs in other species than we do our own. Our limited societal understanding of the lifespan of ovarian function is a casualty of the intersection of medical racism, patriarchy and white empiricism. 

The story will remain incomplete until we have our research and clinical care guided by the menopausal experiences of those who experience it.

(This essay is part of the latest Women & Democracy installment, published in the middle of Black History Month, in partnership with Black Girls’ Guide to Surviving Menopause. Menopause is not only a physical transition—it is also cultural, social and political. Recognizing its full scope is essential to advancing true health and civic equity.)

Midwifery Is for Menopause, Too

When I was younger, I remembered the kitchen turning into a collective of family midwives. Without understanding, they boisterously discussed the “change of life,” “personal summers” and somebody being “carefree, hot in the pants.” They waved their hands in praise, testifying, “Tell it!” “Who you tellin’!” “Just you wait!” 

Their language seemed mysterious to me since I was less than six months into menarche. The only reason I was allowed in that sacred space was because I started my period. I was seen and not heard. But I was an audience in this menopause reverie.

Midwives, for centuries, chose who they passed on the secrets of the womb. These secrets included how to support those beyond their childbearing years and whose bleeding cycle unexpectedly came to an end. My family’s knowledge was passed down during the communing of the midwives and womb bearers. 

Midwifery is individualized care. It’s my #1 favorite aspect of the profession. Midwifery includes the menopausal experience. In my one-hour appointments, each person is able to talk freely. I listen, gather precious information, hear their concerns, hopes and expectations, so that I can offer care that’s specifically designed for their journey. To improve their reproductive and menopausal health, we discuss their experience and the differences between perimenopause, menopause and post menopause stages. I want them to feel affirmed and know where they are on their journey. Fourteen years later, and over 50 perimenopausal, menopausal and post-menopause clients later, the individualized care model remains.

(This essay is part of the latest Women & Democracy installment, published in the middle of Black History Month, in partnership with Black Girls’ Guide to Surviving Menopause. Menopause is not only a physical transition—it is also cultural, social and political. Recognizing its full scope is essential to advancing true health and civic equity.)

Independent Clinics Still Provide Most U.S. Abortions

2025 was a year marked by attacks on reproductive freedom, including a staggering wave of forced Planned Parenthood closures. About 50 of Planned Parenthood’s 600 locations have shut down as of December, largely due to last year’s combined loss of Title X funds and Medicaid reimbursements.

In the midst of these closures, independent abortion clinics continue to play a crucial role in the abortion access landscape. Even before last year’s Planned Parenthood cuts, independent clinics provided most U.S. abortions, offering care to women in big cities and rural healthcare deserts alike. In 2025, independent clinics provided 58 percent of U.S. abortions, compared to 38 percent through Planned Parenthood (and 3 and 1 percent through hospitals and doctors’ offices, respectively), according to the annual Communities Need Clinics report from Abortion Care Network (ACN), released in December.

War on Women Report: Meta Removes Abortion-Related Accounts; Louisiana Tries to Extradite California Abortion Provider; Fatal ICE Shootings

MAGA Republicans are back in the White House, and Project 2025 is their guide—the right-wing plan to turn back the clock on women’s rights, remove abortion access, and force women into roles as wives and mothers in the “ideal, natural family structure.” We know an empowered female electorate is essential to democracy. That’s why day after day, we stay vigilant in our goals to dismantle patriarchy at every turn. We are watching, and we refuse to go back. This is the War on Women Report.

Since our last report:
—Kentucky Attorney General Russell Coleman has tried to remove pro-abortion ads from Mayday Health, an organization that shares information about abortion pills, birth control and gender-affirming care.
—The FDA withdrew a rule requiring cosmetics companies to test their products made with talc for asbestos, alarming public health advocates.
—Two Pennsylvania hospitals told the state they may not provide emergency contraception to sexual assault survivors because of religious objections.
—Some good news out of Wyoming: The state’s supreme court started the new year by striking down Wyoming’s two abortion bans.

… and more.

Women Are Being Priced Out of Health Coverage—and Congress Knows It

With the 2026 Affordable Care Act (ACA) open enrollment period now closed, millions of Americans are facing an uncomfortable new reality: higher monthly costs for the health coverage they already struggled to afford.

When health insurance becomes unaffordable, women don’t just absorb the cost. They make sacrifices—often at the expense of their health. They end up skipping preventive services, delaying medical tests, forgoing mental healthcare, and leaving prescriptions unfilled. The consequences can be severe: delayed diagnoses, worsened health outcomes, poorer quality of life, and higher costs down the road for families and the health system.

Unable to wait for Congress to act to extend the credits, the vast majority of Americans have already made their health insurance decisions for 2026. With the enrollment deadline passed, women have had to make decisions based on what they can afford right now—not on promises that may never materialize.