Wednesday, February 09, 2022

Why didn’t Congress codify abortion rights?


In the 49 years since the Supreme Court ruled in Roe v. Wade, lawmakers have attempted to both shore up abortion rights and to overturn the decision — all while abortion transformed national politics.


Demonstrators at the March for Women's Lives at the Capitol on April 9, 1989. 
(MARK REINSTEIN/CORBIS VIA GETTY IMAGES)


Amanda Becker
Washington Correspondent
Published January 26, 2022

When the U.S. Supreme Court in September left Texas’ restrictive six-week abortion ban in place, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi quickly responded that the conservative majority’s “dark-of-night decision” was “flagrantly unconstitutional” and would be met with swift congressional action.

It was. Three weeks later, the House passed by a 218-to-211 vote the Women’s Health Protection Act, which would prohibit states from passing most abortion restrictions prior to fetal viability. It was opposed by all House Republicans, along with Rep. Henry Cuellar of Texas, the chamber’s last anti-abortion Democrat.

The Senate has yet to act. Even if it did, the bill is unlikely to pass the evenly divided 100-seat chamber, where nearly all legislation needs 60 votes to overcome the filibuster. So even as Republican state lawmakers introduce copycat bans based on the Texas law, and the Supreme Court weighs a case that could upend abortion rights, the chance of federal legislation making it to President Joe Biden’s desk by November, when Democrats could lose control of the House, the Senate or both, is basically nonexistent.

Forty-nine years have passed since the Supreme Court’s 1973 decision in Roe v. Wade established the constitutional right to an abortion before fetal viability. There have been congressional attempts to pass a constitutional amendment overturning Roe, as well as efforts to codify the decision. All have failed. Along the way, abortion has transformed national politics and created a gulf between voters and party leaders to the extent that by 2019, as many as 3 in 10 Democrats and Republicans did not agree with their party on abortion, according to the Pew Research Center.

Calls from Democrats to “codify Roe” have intensified in recent months, with Roe’s 49th (and potentially last) anniversary last week, several intermediary decisions on the Texas law, and a separate case — Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization — before the Supreme Court concerning a 15-week abortion ban in Mississippi. Last month during oral arguments in that case, a majority of justices indicated that they are willing, at minimum, to weaken the viability standard set by Roe at approximately 24 weeks pregnancy.

A Supreme Court ruling in Dobbs is expected by summer, and it has the potential to cap a decades-long effort by conservative abortion opponents to gut the Roe ruling and leave the issue up to the states.

How the two parties arrived at this pivotal moment for abortion access involves the emergence of a new wedge issue, a realignment of the political parties, and decisions they made along the way about when and how to push for abortion regulations and to what extent.

And it all happened within the past 50 years.

Cecile Richards, president of the reproductive health organization Planned Parenthood and its affiliated political arm from 2006 to 2018, bristles when she hears the word “controversial” used to describe abortion. Public opinion has shown a majority support for abortion access that has remained remarkably consistent, she said.

A June 2021 survey of U.S. attitudes about abortion rights and Roe from public opinion polling firm Gallup, for example, showed that 58 percent of Americans opposed overturning the 1973 ruling and 32 percent favored it — mirroring public opinion in 1989.

“I think some people have a hard time wrapping their head around two different ideas: One is that people have their own personal feelings about abortion, their own experience with it, what they feel like they would do, what they would want their daughter to do,” Richards told The 19th. The other is that they “absolutely do not want the government to make these decisions.”

More from The 19th

Texas’ six-week abortion ban will stay in effect indefinitely after Supreme Court decision to allow legal delays
Abortion rights groups tie their fight to voting rights
Abortion rights advocates want to hear more from Joe Biden

“The only thing that’s changed is the politics of the Republican Party and frankly, the Democratic Party,” she added.

In 1975, when abortion was a newly established constitutional right, 19 percent of Democrats told Gallup that abortion should be legal in “all or most cases,” 51 percent said it should be legal in certain cases, and 26 percent said it should be illegal in all cases. Among Republicans, the numbers were strikingly similar: 18 percent said abortion should be legal in “all or most cases,” 55 percent said it should be in some and 25 percent said it should be illegal in all.

The same poll taken in 2021 showed more Democratic voters supporting abortion in “all or most cases” and more Republicans supporting it in none, with sizeable majorities in both parties — 91 percent of Democrats; 69 percent of Republicans — continuing to support abortion access in at least some cases.

But the parties in Congress are less nuanced. In the House, Texas’ Cuellar is considered the only reliably anti-abortion Democrat and, as of 2019, there are no Republicans who support abortion rights. In the Senate, Democrats Joe Manchin of West Virginia and Bob Casey of Pennsylvania both self identify as “pro-life,” though they have at times supported forms of abortion access, and Republican Sens. Lisa Murkowski of Alaska and Susan Collins of Maine have both embraced some abortion rights.

As political scientists Scott Ainsworth and Thad Hall write in the 2010 book “Abortion Politics in Congress”: When it comes to abortion, “the increasingly partisan nature of abortion politics represents a case of issue evolution driven by party elites and filtering down to the masses.”

Alisa Von Hagel is a political science professor and coordinator of the gender studies program at the University of Wisconsin–Superior who tracks the emergence of abortion policy, particularly at the state level. She said one key to understanding abortion politics in 2021 is knowing that just several decades ago it was not considered a political issue at all.

Von Hagel recalled a student who told her about a conversation with their grandmother and several others from that generation about studying the politics of reproductive rights. “These older ladies were just like: Why in the world is this a political issue? We never talked about it like that in the past,” Von Hagel remembers the student relaying. “I can still picture her face, thinking: ‘How is this possible?’”

“It was a very, very purposeful realignment that happened,” Von Hagel added.

Heading into the 1970s, political affiliation was not an accurate predictor for whether an individual supported abortion rights — for voters or elected officials. But over the next 20 years, a political party realignment around abortion would begin to take shape.


Brother John of the Holy Faith kneels facing a group from Catholics for Choice during a morning of demonstrations outside the Supreme Court on June 29, 1989. 
(KEVIN LARKIN/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES)

The term “pro-life” was not even in the political lexicon in 1972, when Republican Richard Nixon adopted anti-abortion positions during his presidential reelection campaign in a successful bid to win over Catholic voters, who had traditionally backed Democratic presidents, including the two before Nixon.

The Supreme Court’s 1973 ruling in Roe v. Wade energized the anti-abortion coalition of evangelical as well as Catholic voters that began to emerge during Nixon’s presidency and still exists in politics today. Privately, Nixon told top aides that while he feared the ruling could encourage sexual promiscuity, he believed abortions should be available in certain circumstances, such as for pregnancies resoluting from incest or interracial relationships.

Mary Ziegler, a law professor at Florida State University who studies abortion, believes that the Senate probably had a bipartisan majority that supported abortion rights when Roe was decided, but advocates did not feel a pressing need to pass legislation.

“It seemed to be kind of like overkill, because at the time, the abortion rights movement trusted the courts to protect abortion rights for some time,” Ziegler told The 19th.

During the 1976 presidential campaign, both Republican Gerald Ford and Democrat Jimmy Carter opposed abortion in some cases. That year Congress for the first time approved the Hyde Amendment, which bars using federal dollars for most abortions, including in the government’s Medicaid health insurance program.

More Democrats than Republicans voted for for it, handing abortion rights opponents their first post-Roe victory. But some of those Democrats did so because it seemed like abortion rights were settled law and the Supreme Court would step in when it was challenged, according to Ziegler.

“There were some Democrats and progressives who voted for the Hyde Amendment in part because they thought the Supreme Court would invalidate it — it was part of an appropriations bill, so if you liked other stuff in the appropriations bill, that was fine, because the Supreme Court would take care of it,” Ziegler said.

It didn’t. The court upheld the constitutionality of the Hyde Amendment in 1980.

Marchers protesting the Supreme Court’s decision in Roe fill Pennsylvania Avenue NW in front of the Capitol on January 22, 1981. (HERBERT K. WHITE/AP)

It was around this time that “abortion started to become linked to ideology and party in ways that had not occurred before,” according to Ainsworth and Hall. Republican Ronald Reagan — who had relaxed abortion restrictions as California’s governor — called for the appointment of anti-abortion judges during his 1980 White House campaign. By the late 1980s, he had nominated more federal judges than any president before or since, and abortion rights groups began to realize “we can’t really rely on the courts anymore, we need to find a way through the political process to protect access to abortion,” Ziegler said.

When Democrat Bill Clinton campaigned for the White House in 1992, he did so with the message that abortion should be “safe, legal and rare.” At the time, that was the most forceful support for abortion rights from a post-Roe president, but it has since become outmoded in Democratic politics. When Rep. Tulsi Gabbard of Hawaii repeated it during the 2020 presidential primary, abortion rights advocates said she was out of step with a movement that believed “rare” was a concession to their opponents.

Once president, Clinton marked the 20th anniversary of the Roe decision by reversing abortion restrictions put in place by the Reagan and George H.W. Bush administrations. But legislation proved harder. Though Clinton began his presidency with Democrats in control of both the House and Senate — and with a majority that backed abortion rights, according to Ziegler — disagreements in his own party remained over how to handle the Hyde Amendment and other specifics.

Abortion rights demonstrators at the March for Women’s Lives rally in Washington, D.C., on April 5, 1992. (MARK REINSTEIN/CORBIS VIA GETTY IMAGES)

In 1992, the Supreme Court had affirmed the right to an abortion in the case Planned Parenthood v. Casey, which challenged restrictive Pennsylvania laws. But the ruling also said states had some leeway to add some limits to abortion during the first trimester of pregnancy. So Democrats revived the Freedom of Choice Act — that era’s attempt to codify Roe. When it failed in 1993, Democratic leaders turned their focus to health care legislation.

“When it starts to take too long, you see the Democratic Party essentially saying: Well, we’re not going to worry about this, we’ll get to this later,” Ziegler said.

According to Michele Swers, a government professor at Georgetown University, the “most aggressive Democrats got” on abortion rights during this time period was the FACE Act, a law that protected clinic entrances. The window for any broader effort closed when Democrats lost control of both chambers of Congress in the 1994 midterm elections.

In 1994, the Republican Party ran on its newly released Contract with America. Though by that time the party’s candidates and lawmakers were increasingly aligning with the anti-abortion movement, the contract focused on “60 percent issues” that had broad support from the electorate like slashing welfare programs and a balanced budget amendment. Overturning Roe was not one of them, so it was silent on abortion. The contract fueled Republican victories in the House and Senate, putting them in control of both congressional chambers for the first time since the 1950s.

In early 1995, the Christian Coalition, a group founded in 1987 by religious conservative and former presidential candidate Pat Robertson that became emblematic of the Christian right, released its own “contract with the American family” at a news conference alongside then-House Speaker Newt Gingrich, one of the authors of the party’s 1994 platform. That “contract” did not propose a constitutional amendment to ban abortion outright due to practical concerns, political analysts said at the time, but it did call for restrictions on late-term abortions. Even still, intraparty divides over abortion existed. Then-Sen. Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania, who was considering a Republican presidential bid based on curbing religious influence on the party, told ABC’s “Good Morning America” that he would not support it because “it opposes a woman’s right to choose.”

What followed was a period when increasingly socially conservative Republican lawmakers and abortion opponents became more tenacious in supporting incremental restrictions. Republicans attached abortion-related riders to appropriations bills and repeatedly introduced what would become known as the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act, which the Republican-controlled Congress passed twice only to be vetoed by Clinton, then eventually signed into law by Republican President George W. Bush in 2003.

It was during debate over the Partial-Birth Abortion Ban Act, which banned abortions by “dilation and extraction” in the second trimester of pregnancy, that public opinion about an absolute right to legal abortion began to shift, according to tracking polls and Ziegler’s research — and reproductive rights advocates worried they were losing the messaging battle. Even the name of the law, which adopted a term not used in medicine to describe late-term abortions, was seen as a victory for abortion opponents. In the House, the final version of the legislation was backed by 218 Republicans and 63 Democrats; in the Senate, 47 Republicans and 17 Democrats. Its constitutionality was upheld by the Supreme Court in 2007.

Richards said that when she got to Planned Parenthood in 2006, the Democratic Party was still recruiting congressional candidates who did not support abortion rights. The organization “really worked hard to establish that it was a fundamental right, and that it was something that the Democratic Party needed to lead on.”

Abortion rights advocates found an ally in then-Sen. Barack Obama, who told Planned Parenthood early in his Democratic White House bid that “the first thing I’d do as president” would be to codify Roe by signing the latest iteration of the Freedom of Choice Act. But four months into his presidency, Obama said it was “not my highest legislative priority” and suggested energy would be better spent reducing unintended pregnancies.

But Democratic differences on abortion threatened to derail Obama’s namesake health care law. With Republicans united in opposition, Democrats could not afford to lose a single senator, and Ben Nelson, an anti-abortion Democrat from Nebraska, was the final holdout. To win his support, party leaders included a version of an amendment that prohibits Affordable Care Act plans from covering abortion, which was originally offered by another anti-abortion Democratic representative, Bart Stupak of Michigan. To appease opponents, Obama also issued an executive order reiterating that federal money would not be used to pay for abortions. Meanwhile, abortion rights advocates tried to take solace in the fact ACA plans would cover contraception.

Anti-abortion activist stage a “die-in” in front of the White House in on January 21, 2015. 
(NICHOLAS KAMM/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES)

In the 2010 midterm elections, Republicans picked up more than 60 House seats to retake control of that chamber and added seven in the Senate as part of the tea party wave. Republican efforts picked up to “defund” Planned Parenthood by denying the organization state and federal money throughout the rest of Obama’s presidency, many of them spearheaded by then-Rep. Mike Pence. In 2015, Republican House Speaker John Boehner resigned in part due to repeated battles with the conservative Freedom Caucus over their desire to shut down the government over Planned Parenthood funding.

In January 2016, Planned Parenthood, under Richards’ leadership, endorsed Democrat Hillary Clinton’s White House bid. It was the first time the organization had made an endorsement in a presidential primary, but as Richards told the New York Times: “Everything Planned Parenthood has believed in and fought for over the past 100 years is on the ballot.” When Clinton accepted the endorsement and announced that she supported repealing the Hyde Amendment, the Guardian called it “truly surprising” and Salon said it was a “game changer.” Hyde Amendment repeal ended up in the Democratic Party’s official policy platform — a move polling showed was popular with the party’s base but less so with the broader electorate.

Clinton went on to lose the November 2016 election to Republican Donald Trump, who said he was running to be a “pro-life president” and had taken a number of anti-abortion stances during his campaign. He was the first sitting president to attend the annual March for Life rally and appointed three Supreme Court justices — Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett — who cemented the court’s conservative anti-abortion majority.

By the time the 2020 Democratic presidential primary got underway, the sizable field of contenders all supported some version of Roe codification and the repeal of the Hyde Amendment, citing the Trump administration’s attempts to curb abortion access and restrictive laws recently enacted in Georgia and Alabama. To run for president as a Democrat in 2020 meant unequivocally supporting abortion rights — and for Joe Biden, an observant Catholic, it necessitated an evolution.

After Biden joined the Senate in 1973, he voted for a failed constitutional amendment that would have allowed states to overturn the court’s Roe ruling. In a Washingtonian magazine interview at the time, he said of Roe: “I think it went too far. I don’t think that a woman has the sole right to say what should happen to her body.” But times changed, and so did he. In a 2007 book, Biden said he had arrived at a “middle-of-the-road position on abortion.” In 2008, he described Roe as “close to a consensus that can exist in a society as heterogeneous as ours.” As Obama’s vice president, Biden said the government had no “right to tell other people that women, they can’t control their own body.”

By the 2020 presidential primary, his abortion politics matched the party’s base.

Biden went on to drop the Hyde Amendment in his first budget proposal. Early in his presidency, he also rescinded the Mexico City Policy, known as the global gag rule, which requires foreign organizations to certify they will not promote abortion as a condition for receiving U.S. aid for reproductive health care. In October, his administration reversed a Trump-era regulation that barred health care providers receiving Title X family planning funds from mentioning abortion care to patients as an option.

People attend this year’s March for Life rally on the National Mall in Washington on January 21. (SUSAN WALSH/AP)

Biden has emphasized codifying Roe as a proxy for his larger abortion messaging and has said he would sign the Women’s Health Protection Act if it were to make it to his desk. But, with anti-abortion conservatives anticipating judicial victory, it is unclear what, if anything Biden’s administration — or Democrats in Congress — can deliver legislatively.

Since Democrats lack a legislative path to head off the Dobbs decision, they have turned to making the case that voters should reinforce their congressional majorities in the 2022 midterms, believing the party’s support for abortion access will benefit their candidates up and down the ballot.

“We are in a total stalemate in Congress and it would take extraordinary leadership by this president and frankly, by the Democrats in the United States Senate, to do anything legislatively to codify Roe,” Richards said.

“I don’t think most people, unless they live in the state of Texas, know what is potentially coming,” she added.


Laws restricting abortion may also limit options for people who miscarry


Advocates and physicians worry state legislation on medication abortion will also impact the availability of non-surgical treatment for miscarriage.


Advocates and physicians worry state legislation on medication abortion will also impact the availability of non-surgical treatment for miscarriage.
 (OLIVIER DOULIERY/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES)

Shefali Luthra
Health Reporter
Published January 28, 2022

The pills used in medication abortions and those often used to treat spontaneous miscarriages are the same — and that has some reproductive health advocates and physicians worried that new laws in many states limiting their use for abortions will have consequences for people who have miscarriages.

People who experience miscarriage can sometimes wait for the fetus to pass out of their body on its own – a process that might take months – or they can seek treatment. Most people opt for treatment, which comes with two options: a surgical procedure performed in a medical office or a medication regimen. The medication method is less invasive than surgery, does not require any anesthetic and can be largely done from home, which can be easier, since the process often takes hours.

But the medication option — which, under ideal circumstances, involves two pills, known as mifepristone and misoprostol — is essentially the same as the treatment that can be prescribed for people who voluntarily terminate a pregnancy earlier than 10 weeks. That similarity means that laws to restrict access to medication abortion could mean fewer doctors and health care providers who are able and willing to provide those pills for people who miscarry.

“There’s a long-standing history of the intersection of abortion restrictions and pregnancy care in general — and how abortion restrictions confuse, or maybe obfuscate, the care of pregnancy at large,” said Dr. Ghazaleh Moayedi, an OB/GYN who has provided abortions in both Texas and Oklahoma. “We have seen how abortion restrictions, no matter what the restrictions are, impact pregnancy care.”

The impact could be vast. Ten to 20 percent of people who know they are pregnant will experience a miscarriage before 13 weeks, research shows. The true miscarriage rate — including people who did not realize they were pregnant — may be anywhere from one-third to half of all pregnancies.

This year, Republican state lawmakers have indicated that medication abortion is a top priority: Across the country, legislators are preparing and introducing bills that would limit when and how people can access medication abortions. In Texas, medication abortions are prohibited after seven weeks of pregnancy.

Meanwhile, the Supreme Court is expected to rule this summer in a case that could overturn or otherwise weaken Roe v. Wade, the case that guaranteed the right to an abortion. If that happens, 19 states have laws on the books that would effectively end access to abortion, including medication abortion.

Advocates and experts note that those laws do not necessarily curb treatment options for people who experience a miscarriage. But many worry that in practice, such legislation could result in fewer health care providers offering medical management for people experiencing a spontaneous pregnancy loss.

Moayedi said there is a potential chilling effect: that, as states pass more restrictions on when and how abortion can be provided, doctors and health care providers in those parts of the country become less likely to treat people with these pills, even in non-abortion contexts. That could be because they are less likely to keep the relevant pills on hand or because they are afraid of being associated with a pill also used for abortions.

That could mean fewer treatment options for people experiencing miscarriage — at least in certain parts of the country. Surgical treatment is an option, but any procedure that involves anesthesia carries risk.

“Anything that happens in the legislatures, in the courts, in the court of public opinion that heightens stigma of abortion, or abortion provision, or increases legal penalties for the provision of care, or simply confounds people about where the legal lines are drawn and whether they can or cannot dispense or provide care — all of that will dissuade people,” said Jill Adams, executive director of If/When/How: Lawyering for Reproductive Justice, which helps people who face criminal charges related to abortion.

Already, that chilling effect has had consequences — in particular, when it comes to the possibility of getting mifepristone. Regulations from the Food & Drug Administration hold that the pill can be prescribed by only health care providers who have signed special agreements with the government, and it can be dispensed by only registered pharmacies.

More from The 19th

‘You never forget it’: These are the stories of life before Roe v. Wade transformed America
Pumping, voting, taking leave: Legislators who are mothers face specific challenges

In practice, Moayedi said, that means the pill is particularly difficult to find at medical facilities that don’t also provide abortions. Federally qualified health centers, which typically serve low-income people and those without health insurance, are particularly unlikely to keep mifepristone in stock — even though they certainly provide care to people experiencing miscarriage.

“Even though we know [mifepristone] improves the chances of successful medical management, it is not routine practice,” she said. “That is because of abortion stigma, abortion regulations and the increased FDA regulations around mifepristone.”

Patients who miscarry do have another option: They can take only misoprostol, without mifepristone. That is more commonly done in many health care settings, because the regulations are fewer.

But misoprostol alone has a 1 in 3 failure rate. Patients for whom the pill does not work would have to go back to the doctor’s office for either another pill or for surgery. All those elongate a process that, for those losing a wanted pregnancy, can be particularly painful.

“People are looking for a quick resolution of the pregnancy, so they can grieve if they need to, and then take the time and return to trying to conceive again,” Moayedi said. “There are huge family impacts, life impacts from these sorts of restrictions, and how they impact all kinds of pregnancy care.”
31 states have laws that allow forced sterilizations, new report shows


A new report from the National Women’s Law Center lays out the laws, some passed as recently as 2019, around an overlooked aspect of reproductive justice.


A new report from the National Women’s Law Center lays out the laws around an overlooked aspect of reproductive justice. (GETTY IMAGES)


Sara Luterman
Caregiving reporter
Published February 4, 2022

A new report shows that 31 states and the District of Columbia have laws allowing permanent forced sterilizations. Little discussed and largely unmonitored, the issue grabbed national attention last summer when the pop star Britney Spears testified that she was forced to use birth control by her father. While Spears was not subject to surgical sterilization, her testimony started a conversation about reproductive rights and conservatorship.

According to the report from the National Women’s Law Center, 17 states allow the permanent, surgical sterilization of children with disabilities. The report is written in plain language, designed to be understood by at least some of the people impacted most by these laws.

The majority of people in the United States impacted by forced surgical sterilization — permanent procedures such as hysterectomies and tubal ligation — are under guardianship. Guardianship, called conservatorship in some states, is a legal arrangement designed to account for an individual’s incapacity to make legal and health decisions. The guardian, usually a family member or professional, acts as a proxy decision-maker for the person under guardianship. In many states, people under guardianship cannot refuse medical treatment or vote.

Historically, people of color were among the most impacted by forced sterilization laws, which around the turn of the 20th century were being used in eugenics movements. Even after eugenics fell into disrepute after World War II, eugenic thinking has persisted in American law. During the 1970s, the forced sterilization of Black women was so common in the American South that it was sometimes referred to as a “Mississippi appendectomy.”

While many think of forced sterilization as a relic of the past, some of the laws are quite recent: The two most recent state laws regarding forced sterilization were passed in 2019. An appendix in the report lays out the specific laws in every U.S. state and territory.

“These are very current laws,” said Ma’ayan Anafi, senior counsel for health equity and justice at the National Women’s Law Center and author of the report. “There’s still this narrative that disabled people, especially disabled people of color, are a burden on their families and to the public, that their having children is a threat to society,” they told The 19th.

The new report “advances disability justice in several critical ways” said Jasmine Harris, a professor at University of Pennsylvania’s Carey Law School and expert on disability and reproductive justice. In particular, she praised the report’s use of plain language, or writing designed to be understood by a general audience, rather than restricting information to legal experts and academics.

The National Women’s Law Center used plain language to make the information in the report accessible to at least some with intellectual disabilities.

“When people talk about forced sterilization, and are often talking as if disabled people are not there and don’t have a right to be part of the conversation,” Anafi said.

Anafi noted that this is especially true for those with intellectual disabilities.

“There’s this idea that people with [intellectual disabilities] can’t understand sex and pregnancy, so someone has to make that decision for them. But the truth is, when we give disabled people the right tools and support, more people can engage in the public conversation and make their own decisions,” they told The 19th.

To produce a plain language report, the National Women’s Law Center partnered with the Autistic Women and Nonbinary Network, a nonprofit run by and for women and nonbinary people on the spectrum. They also recruited national leaders with intellectual disabilities like Tia Nelis and Max Barrows to help review and ensure that the writing was understandable to people who aren’t policy experts.

“Lawyers can also understand plain language,” Lydia X. Z. Brown, director of policy, advocacy and external affairs at the Autistic Women and Nonbinary Network, told The 19th.

Anafi and Brown both hope that the report will empower more advocates to understand the laws in their states — and, by extension, change them.

“Bringing attention to these laws in an accessible way is step one towards a policy change,” Anafi told The 19th. “Ultimately, we want policies that ensure that everyone has the tools and supports they need to make decisions about their own bodies,” they said.
More states want to restrict how LGBTQ+ people, issues are discussed in schools

At least seven state legislatures are discussing whether to regulate how textbooks, teachers and school curriculums talk about gender and sexualities.



Alabama is one of several states where lawmakers are looking at measures that affect how LGBTQ+ people are discussed in schools.
 (JULIE BENNETT/GETTY IMAGES)


Orion Rummler
Breaking News Reporter

Published February 9, 2022, 

At least seven states have introduced bills to regulate how textbooks and school curriculums talk about LGBTQ+ people or how teachers can discuss gender identity and sexual orientation with students.

None have become law, although some — like Florida’s bill on classroom discussion, called the “Don’t Say Gay” bill by advocates — are advancing in state legislatures, and more could be introduced as the year continues. These bills focused on schools are at the nexus of two movements: adding restrictions to LGBTQ+ youth and limiting what can be taught in schools. The fights over sex and gender are happening alongside those over teaching about bias and systemic racism.

Proponents of the curriculum bills say that they are designed to give parents a say in their kids’ schools and protect kids. But LGBTQ+ advocates say the bills, if they become law, will put already at-risk kids in more danger of mental health issues or bullying — and even put them at risk of being outed to their families.

While many of the nearly 150 anti-LGBTQ+ bills brought so far focus on restricting gender-affirming health care access and limiting transgender students’ ability to play in school sports, according to the ACLU’s count, the number of bills focused on education or curriculum restrictions is rising compared with last year.

Some measures are more severe than others: A proposed Tennessee bill would ban public school textbooks that “promote, normalize, support, or address lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (LGBT) issues or lifestyles.” An Oklahoma bill would require school libraries to remove books related to LGBTQ+ issues. In Arizona, another bill would require parents’ written permission for students to join any student group or club involving gender identity and sexuality.

Most prominently, in Florida a proposed bill that is moving through House committees would prohibit school districts from encouraging classroom discussions on gender identity or sexual orientation and allow parents to sue if a school violates that agreement. The companion bill passed Florida’s Senate education committee on Tuesday, and advocacy groups including Equality Florida expressed frustration that public testimony was halted early.

Republican Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis appeared to endorse the effort at a Monday press event, linking school discussions about gender identity with critical race theory, an educational framework created 40 years ago that argues the country’s legacy of racism and slavery still affects Black Americans.

“We’ve seen instances of students being told by different folks in school, ‘Oh, well, don’t worry, don’t pick your gender yet, do all this other stuff.’ They won’t tell the parents about these discussions that are happening. That is entirely inappropriate,” DeSantis said, adding that “I don’t think it’s going on in large numbers.”

The White House denounced Florida’s bill in an emailed statement on Tuesday, adding that the legislation “is not an isolated action,” as more Republican lawmakers “take actions to regulate what students can or cannot read, what they can or cannot learn, and most troubling, who they can or cannot be.”

Jeanne Nettles, who teaches 7th and 8th grade in St. Johns County, Florida, said the bill could make some of her students — such as those with two moms or two dads — feel like they need to hide parts of themselves at school.

“Are they not allowed to talk about their home life? … What are you trying to tell them by saying ‘you can’t talk about it’?” she said in an interview after the school day had ended.

She also feels it’s her responsibility as a teacher to be there for students who aren’t ready to talk to their parents about their gender identity or sexual orientation. She’s a safe adult in their lives that they can talk to, she said — and being bisexual has underscored to her the importance of being an out and visible ally for students.

Lawmakers’ heightened interest in reining in students’ exposure to LGBTQ+ issues comes during a record-setting legislative onslaught against trans youth in particular. It also follows a year during which some school districts banned Pride flags as political speech and as part of a broader push from the right to censor or ban books about race, sex and gender.

“All of those efforts are related,” said Aaron Ridings, director of public policy at the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN). They are part of a broader political push to exclude queer youth and reduce their access to educational opportunities, he said.

“These heavy-handed mandates around parental and family involvement are really unhelpful and increase the risk of LGBTQ+ young people being outed to families and parents who may not be affirming,” Ridings said.

Family notification is the goal of several initiatives. Bills recently brought in Arizona and Alabama call for schools — or specifically teachers, counselors, and nurses — to inform parents about a student questioning their gender identity or being transgender.

While anti-LGBTQ+ curriculum bills are not new, they have not had this kind of emphasis behind them before, said Cathryn Oakley, state legislative director and senior counsel at the Human Rights Campaign. She expects to see more of them as the year progresses.


HRC is especially concerned with how the bills frame restrictions on LGBTQ+ students as supporting parents’ rights, she said — including mandating that parents should know if their child comes out at school, but not at home.

“If a kid isn’t safe coming out at home, or they’re not sure, coming out to a guidance counselor is perhaps a significantly better idea,” she said.

Austin Johnson, who teaches sociology at Kenyon College and studies LGBTQ+ health, is worried that bills focused on schools — amid other anti-trans legislation — will make the growing problem of poor mental health among LGBTQ+ youth even worse.

“It’s a perfect storm for exacerbating what’s already a growing problem,” he said. In his own research with 18- to 24-year-olds last fall, which is expected to be peer-reviewed in March, he found that most queer kids are experiencing poor mental health.

Hannah Willard, vice president of government affairs for Freedom for All Americans, said the organization is also seeing an increase in legislation impacting LGBTQ+ kids experience at school — and the overlap between anti-LGBTQ bills focused on schools and curriculums, combined with increased pressure within school districts to ban LGBTQ+ books and flags, also adds further precarity to the situation.

“There are a lot of bills that seek to ban diversity, education, inclusion and critical race theory that also seek to ban curriculum and conversations about sexual orientation and gender identity and different family structures,” she said.

South Dakota is the first state this year to sign an anti-trans bill into law — banning trans girls from playing on girls’ sports teams in schools. The White House condemned lawmakers in the state on Monday for passing the bill.

Johnson said that, if he had been able to learn about what being transgender meant in high school — especially from a teacher — that would have alleviated the despair that enveloped him; despair that he couldn’t understand or find words for on his own.

“I think it would have totally changed my life,” he said. “I think that I would have made different choices in terms of self care. … I didn’t know myself, so it was hard to care for myself.”
Kids in South Dakota have spent most of their youth fighting anti-trans bills. One was just signed into law.


SB 46 looks a lot like other bills passed over the last two years that aim to block transgender kids, trans girls in particular, from playing sports.



Demonstrators protest anti-trans legislation in South Dakota in April 2021. 
(GREG LATZA/ACLU)

Kate Sosin

LGBTQ+ reporter
Published February 3, 2022

Over two years, state Sen. Wayne Steinhauer got to know Elliot James Vogue, a transgender teen in his district. Vogue shared his dreams for the future with the South Dakota lawmaker. Vogue transitioned — both in gender and age — before Steinhauer’s eyes.

But on January 19, Steinhauer — who previously played a key part in halting anti-trans legislation — voted for Senate Bill 46, banning trans girls from playing on girls’ sports teams. The Senate passed the bill 26-7, and the House followed suit, voting 50-17 to advance it. Gov. Kristi Noem inked SB 46 into law Thursday, making her state the first this year to pass an anti-trans bill.

Vogue, who moved to Iowa for college, was unable to testify against SB 46.

“I suppose it’s easier to vote for a bill against trans rights when the trans rights activist in your district moves away,” Vogue said.

Steinhauer did not respond to requests from The 19th to comment.

No state legislators have had the opportunity to get to know transgender youth like South Dakota’s. In the past eight years, the state has considered 34 bills that would limit the rights of LGBTQ+ people, the majority of them aimed at trans kids, according to the ACLU of South Dakota.

Year after year, kids like Vogue have piled into cars and buses bound for Pierre, the capital. They have knocked at the doors of their senators and representatives, sat on the floors during crowded committee hearings with their parents and called legislative offices week after week.

“Some of these youth have fought these bills every year of their entire adolescence,” said Carl Charles, an attorney for Lambda Legal who challenges anti-trans bills in court. “You can no longer say you don’t know any young people in this situation.”

Advocates say that sets South Dakota apart from other states. It is also, they say, what makes SB 46’s passage so significant.

SB 46 looks a lot like other bills passed over the past two years that aim to block transgender kids, trans girls in particular, from playing sports. Nine such bills have passed since the start of 2020, part of a wave of hundreds of other anti-trans bills that have been proposed throughout the country.

South Dakotans convene outside the committee hearing on a bill that would restrict trans youth from accessing gender-affirming health care in February 2020. 
(GREG LATZA/ACLU)

When the state legislature considered another anti-trans sports bill last year, Vogue testified against the measure. Trans advocates couldn’t find a trans girl in the state to testify, something they say demonstrated that the bill had been crafted to target a nonexistent problem.

Noem specifically requested the bill that she signed into law Thursday. In her state of the state address this January, she argued for making the rule state law.

“Freedom and liberty are about self-determination and the right to achieve — to reach our fullest potential,” Noem said. “But there is a troubling movement in our society. Our young girls are having their freedom to achieve taken away by schools and organizations that are changing the rules of the game in competition.”

Transgender youth in South Dakota helped successfully defeat bill after bill for eight years by showing up at the statehouse, introducing themselves to the Republican-dominated general assembly and stepping up to the mic to testify.

Republicans hold power in the Senate, House and the governor’s mansion. But South Dakota’s transgender community is particularly organized. Trans youth and their parents have found community and support through the local nonprofit the Transformation Project. That community of youth and parents has made themselves known in recent years, going toe-to-toe with anti-LGBTQ+ activists at every turn.

Since 2020, Percival Ereth has been the target of harassment and bullying, in part because they fought anti-trans bills so publicly

.
Demonstrators opposing anti-trans legislation protest in South Dakota in April 2021. (GREG LATZA/ACLU)

“I find that most trans people in South Dakota … grow up too fast or are emotionally delayed from how traumatic it is,” Ereth, who is 19, said. “I won’t lie, I’m tired. We all are.”

On February 10, 2020, Ereth and Vogue both woke up before dawn to board a bus of community activists bound for the capital in opposition to House Bill 1057, which would have restricted young trans people like them from getting gender-affirming medical care. Vogue arrived at the chamber desk of Steinhauer, his senator, and begged him to vote against the bill in committee. He explained that he wanted the same things as other kids.

Ereth cried through the committee hearing and eventually fled the room.

But their efforts paid off. Steinhauer voted with a group 5-2 to kill the bill in committee. Two years later, the 18-year-old can’t remember the number of times he lobbied Steinhauer on anti-trans bills. He isn’t surprised by the senator’s vote this time around, but he is “disappointed and disgusted with [Steinhauer’s] decision.”

“I’m sure it’s easier for him to vote for such a transphobic bill when he doesn’t actually have to see a trans person from his district in person anymore,” Vogue said.

For many advocates, the passage of SB 46 changes the game. That lawmakers were able to vote for an anti-trans bill after years of actually knowing transgender youth strikes a blow to the movement for transgender equality and flies in the face of years of field research, Charles said.

“Some of the talking points over the years with regard to trans people and our rights has been well if people can just get to know trans people … then these things wouldn’t happen, these bills wouldn’t pass,” Charles said. “The sobering piece of this for us is in some cases that’s just not going to be true.”

Libby Skarin, campaigns director for the ACLU of South Dakota, North Dakota and Wyoming, said South Dakota has surprised the nation by winning that fight every time since 2014.

“No one thought South Dakota was a state where this could be stopped,” Skarin said. “I think the fact that we have consistently stopped these bills has been a source of hope for folks, like if they can do it in South Dakota, we can do it in our state.”

But Skarin said the odds in 2022 were simply too great for advocates, trans kids and their parents. Threats of boycotts and costly litigation have often halted anti-LGBTQ+ bills at the 11th hour. North Carolina was forced to repeal its 2016 anti-trans bathroom bill in the face of catastrophic economic losses from boycotts that the Associated Press totaled would cost the state $3.76 billion. South Dakota lawmakers frequently cited boycotts as a source of anxiety when weighing their own anti-trans bills.

Demonstrators opposing anti-trans legislation protest near the South Dakota Capitol in February 2020. 
(GREG LATZA/ACLU)

In 2017, then-South Dakota Gov. Dennis Daugaard vetoed a bill that would have prevented trans kids from using bathrooms and locker rooms that aligned with their genders. Noem, who publicly backed anti-trans bills, also vetoed an anti-trans sports bill in 2021, citing the threat of litigation from the NCAA. It’s too early to know if the sports bills will have economic consequences. Trans advocates have criticized new rules adopted by the NCAA for transgender athletes which allow each sport to determine eligibility of trans athletes.

Noem faced intense backlash over the veto from conservatives last year. Last March, she issued executive orders barring trans girls from playing sports with other girls. In the interim, other states led the way on passing anti-trans sports bills.

“Trans kids have become a political bargaining chip,” Skarin said. “That is just a lot to grapple with.”

Advocates worry that the bill will have disastrous consequences for gender-diverse youth in the state. A recent poll released by LGBTQ+ youth suicide prevention organization the Trevor Project reported that 85 percent of transgender and nonbinary youth said debates in state legislatures of trans rights have negatively impacted their mental health.

Rev. Dr. Lauren R. Stanley, Canon to the Ordinary for the Diocese of South Dakota, has worked with two-spirit youth for 20 years. (Two-spirit is a term used by some Indigenous people to describe gender diverse people.) Last year, Stanley testified and told lawmakers that if they passed such a bill, she wanted them to attend the next funeral she would have to preside over for a two-spirit youth.

“It’s hard enough being Native in this state where you’re a targeted minority anyway,” she said. “But to be a two-spirited youth in this state, and to have the legislature spend all this time talking about how evil you are and telling you you can’t use a bathroom and you can’t play a sport, is a mind-bending oppression.”

Trans Linguistic Activism is About Asking


for Basic Respect from Others

Outline of two heads and hands done in neon
Linguistics can offer illumination in efforts for trans rights. (Photo: Thomas Hawk/Flickr )

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably already encountered transgender linguistic activism. When people introduce themselves, for example, it’s increasingly common to share pronouns and ask what others use, instead of assuming the best way to refer to them based on appearance. Making self-identification an everyday practice is one of trans activism’s most visible recent victories, particularly on campuses, and language is at the center of that change.

As linguists, we are particularly well placed to support the ongoing movement for trans rights. This is a brief survey of some current linguistics research that engages with transgender activism. There are all kinds of interactions between academia and activism: some document trans linguistic activism, others draw on linguistic expertise to inform activist discourse, and still others apply linguistics to develop practical interventions. Many also engage with trans activism to advance the state of linguistic knowledge. From syntax to sociolinguistics, and corpus linguistics to phonetics, scholars draw on trans discourse and experience to challenge our understanding of how language works.

Linguistic Society of America logo
This post by Aris Keshav originally appeared on the blog of the Linguistic Society of America. To read more about LGBTQ+ linguistics from LGBTQ+ linguists, check out all of the COZIL Blog posts here.






Linguists studying trans people isn’t new, but what’s new and growing is the number of trans linguists studying ourselves. That’s important, because cisgender linguists have long imposed their own biases onto trans communities, resulting in misinterpretation (at best) and harmful transphobic discourse posing as linguistic findings at worst. One recent example is Kulick’s description (footnote:) of “transpeople as the self-appointed arbiters of gendered language,” causing everyone to “not laugh as much” as before (1).1 He argues that trans linguistic activism results from trans people needing to pay “meticulous attention […] to their language, so that they might receive confirmation of their gendered identity from others” (2). Not misgendering ourselves, he writes, is a “precious achievement” (2). This is far from the experience of most trans people. Moreover, it misses the point: trans linguistic activism isn’t about monitoring our own language, it’s about asking for basic respect from others. His characterization of trans people as humorless and uptight is demeaning, but nothing new: just another person punching down by accusing others of being too politically correct.

Linguists have long been uneasy about linguistic reform. From the beginning, our field has been shaped by a desire to be respected as a science. Based on a misconception of scientific fields as politically and culturally neutral, many have wished the same neutrality onto linguistics. However, linguistics has never been neutral. Increasingly, scholars are recognizing the effects of our own cultural situatedness and that of our predecessors in the field. The Natives4Linguistics project, for example, places the values and methods of contemporary linguistics in comparison with Native American understandings of language, revealing fundamental differences based on culture.

Another source of resistance is the equation of linguistic reform to oppression. Recently, some linguists have described the trans activist promotion of singular “they” as oppressive linguistic reform. However, not all linguistic reform is inherently oppressive. “Ms.”, for example, was successfully introduced as an alternative to “Miss” and “Mrs.” that did not reveal a person’s marital status. Others have deemed requests to use singular “they” a kind of prescriptivism. However, what is the real prescriptivism? Many people use “singular they” to communicate every day. To argue against it on the basis of grammatical purity is perhaps the real prescriptivism.

Often, arguments against singular “they” are simply dressed-up transphobia. Recent research shows that a person’s attitude to singular “they” is correlated to their overall attitudes towards trans people.2 Age is a large factor: younger people are more likely to use singular “they” and to accept it as sounding grammatical.

Many trans people draw on popular linguistic ideologies in response to transphobic discourse. For example, many non-binary people draw on historical use (singular “they” has been used for centuries) and lexical definition (the dictionary says that “they” can be singular) to legitimize their pronoun choice.3 As linguists, we are in a unique position of power to guide the discourse (cf [Konnelly and Cowper 2020). Singular “they” is more than a linguistic curiosity: pronouncements on its grammaticality have consequences for trans and non-binary lives.

Linguists are also documenting trans and non-binary innovations in languages beyond English. In Spanish, singular “they” is best translated with innovative [affixes: “elle” (/eʝe/) or “ellx” (/eʝeks/). In Québec and France, the non-binary pronoun “iel” /jɛl/ (a blend of “il” and “elle”) has soared in popularity, as well as blends like “cellui” (a blend of feminine demonstrative pronoun “celle” and the masculine “celui”). In written language, which is often more gendered than spoken, many use “.” to create gender-neutral forms (e.g. “mon ami.e”, “je suis chanceux.se”). German speakers have a diversity of strategies including the innovative pronouns “xier” and simply “x”. Others use borrowed English “they” pronouns while speaking German.

There are trans and gender non-conforming people speaking every living language. The fact that linguists have focused predominantly on English and a sampling of European languages is more evidence for the cultural situatedness of linguistics as a field. Do we need more research on innovations in less studied languages? Yes, but we must also recognize that trans people worldwide have different relationships to language. Even among English speakers, pronouns are not always equally important to everyone, based on class, race, education, and individual preference. Any study of asking pronouns, for example, should recognize that the practice is often restricted to university campuses and radical spaces, which are not equally accessible to everyone.

Linguists can draw on our expertise to guide and support trans activist discourse. For example, Lal Zimman (2017) brings self-identification together with the sociolinguistic concept of intersubjectivity. In addition to the way that someone identifies their own gender, the way that people perceive and interact with that individual is also important. Moreover, the way that others accept a trans person’s self-identified gender is deeply affected by their class, visible (non-)conformity, and other factors. Trans people know this, but it isn’t always reflected in our public discourse.

Bodies and gender are often naturalized in ways that trans people challenge by our existence. The way that we name ourselves and our bodies can challenge normative links between body parts and gender identity, building coherence and desirability.4 Within linguistics, scholars often ascribe gender differences in the voice to biological variation. However, these differences are sometimes created by our own tools: changing the settings from “male” to “female” on automatic formant analysis, for example, sometimes produces different results for the same audio.5 Many researchers are turning their attention to voices which challenge simplistic categorization. Lily Clifford is currently building a corpus of transfeminine people’s voices over the course of the voice feminization process. Others have examined non-binary voices: how speakers alter their voice depending on their environment, and how people combine linguistic features with clothing to create non-binary gendered styles.

The need to address race in language, gender, and sexuality is becoming more pressing, as articulated by Trechter (2003) and others. As Trechter notes, race is rarely mentioned in analyses (or even the titles of papers) unless the participants are of a marked category. Nearly all the studies mentioned here focus on white trans communities, but do not critically examine race. If the growing field of trans linguistics aims to unsettle oppressive systems of power, rather than uphold them, then race must become more central in our analyses. Many of the rights promoted by trans activists actually benefit everyone, not just trans people. For example, trans activists have drawn wider attention to the importance of respecting a person’s name and pronouns. This has encouraged native English speakers to be more respectful of how to pronounce names with non-English linguistic origins. It has also highlighted the need to respect the pronouns of gender non-conforming people who often get misgendered, without necessarily identifying as transgender, such as butch lesbians.

Likewise, linguists of all fields can benefit from engaging with trans activism. Language is complex, systematic, and uniquely human; and the beauty of that is what draws many linguists to the field. In order to understand language, we must at some level understand humans. Trans communities have developed precise and productive ways to think about gender, which structures human societies and shapes our individual lives. Gender, along with other systems of human identity and power, is inextricable from language. Engaging with activist knowledge production is, therefore, an invaluable way to advance linguistic research.

Aris Keshav

Aris Keshav received an M.A. in linguistics from the University of California, Santa Barbara in 2021, supervised by Dr. Lal Zimman. Their research focused on language, social interaction, and transgender communities, as well as cultural ideologies of love and romance. Their M.A. thesis is "I love you: Normativity, Power, and Romance in Metalinguistic Commentary." Currently, Keshav is a poet and educator based in Montreal, Canada, you can see more of their work on Instagram at @ambiance.queer.