How human rights make us indivisible

This morning, a friend told me about her upcoming trip to Arkansas, where a pro-life state legislator is sponsoring a bill to support a year of paid family leave covered by Medicaid following the passage of Arkansas’ trigger ban, under the reasoning that “We're expecting, you know, around 3,000 more births than last year because of this. And so, I think we need to have resources available. We say we're pro-life, we need to put our money where our mouth is and provide that sort of care.”

Reflecting on Loretta Ross’ Calling In course—is this the kind of “finding common ground” with those who are in 25% agreement with us? As a practical matter, given that this is Arkansas we’re talking about, where maternal mortality is the highest in the country (and infant mortality is the third-highest), anything we can do to improve the lives of child-bearing people in that state is critical, and better than nothing (one must ask how much worse these statistics will be next year, post Dobbs and trigger-law passage). But—is this a hall of mirrors? When and how do we make these calculations about how to support something we believe in, if it is built upon a foundation that we question so completely? Is it possible to assess an approach purely on its merits—that we agree that there should be family leave and better infant and maternal care—and leave to the side that the proponents of the approach do not support the bodily autonomy of the person giving birth? And as a purely strategic matter, are we giving that proponent a “win” that can be used to perpetuate the continued erosion of our human rights? Will “our side” remain activated if living conditions under this kind of legislation are marginally better?

My dear friend Nan Strauss, an expert in maternal and child health, articulated the comparison to Obamacare, which though imperfect illustrates the practical reality that it’s important to provide part of what you want even if you can’t get the whole thing. And she makes the point that, in the long run, it’s hard to take away something that’s been provided for in law, so getting even part of that thing is a net good. And local advocates for maternal health are in favor as well (though I’m going to be watching closely for comment from BIPOC-led reproductive justice organizations, to better understand how they are articulating their positions).

A thought I’m having about how to “come through the other side of the looking glass” is—could there be a way for this dialogue to bring people who believe that providing care like parental leave and better maternal and child healthcare is of a piece with belief in human rights more broadly? And if so—can we articulate effectively to those people that full human rights include bodily autonomy and the right to make decisions about your own body, including cells (a fetus) that are dependent upon your body for survival? Can we broaden the support for this bill into support for human rights, including human rights for pregnant people and an understanding of why that includes access to full-spectrum medical care? The Reverend William Barber calls on people of faith to see the moral connection—where are our other messengers who speak across this divide? How do we all bring the language of a human rights movement into common parlance, to give us a framework to understand what is happening around us, coalesce our allies around a vision of what is possible, and, most importantly, teach the next generation to use this lens for evaluating the choices they have before them (from consumerism to electoral politics)? Where do we put our time, treasure and effort to advance this vision?

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