You don’t have to be a doctor, midwife, nurse, or doula to make a difference.
Each experiments with telling maternal health stories in her own way, and at least two want to shift the Black maternal health crisis narrative to emphasize Black life, community self-help, and #BlackJoy.
“There is something that can be done. This is not the end of the story; it’s just the beginning and we have the power to shape the story.”
In an election year that will determine whether the political tides will change, advocates are wary of empty promises.
There are three key actions that can propel this movement for Black maternal health, rights, and justice forward: Listen to Black women, trust Black women, and invest in Black women.
Gentrification greatly contributes to the displacement and housing instability of people of color.
A doula’s role is explicitly and exclusively to provide emotional support to a person navigating pregnancy and its outcomes. So why aren’t more providers telling us about them in our times of need?
When I look at black people’s present health outcomes I understand that they are based on structural inequities then and now, and directly linked to the ways that racism makes us sick.
We march because we believe that all moms and their families have the right to affordable health care. Because we believe that all moms deserve to survive pregnancy and childbirth, regardless of class or race.
The answer to that question is not just relevant for Black birthing parents, but for all U.S. parents who aren’t doing that well compared to the rest of industrialized nations.