Furious, Terrified, and Sad: A Letter to My Daughter

Dear M,

Last Thursday I observed as you told your brother, "I'm not going to rely on my family's privilege. I'm going to make it myself." This self-reliance was always in you, but I also saw it blossom during our weekend together with New Roots Nashville. This organization is all about empowering young women, so it's ironic that we experienced a weekend workshop together just before the Supreme Court took away our rights.

Friday, I had to tell your brother, "Your sister just became a second class citizen." He happened to be sitting on the couch when I learned that Roe vs. Wade, a linch-pin Supreme Court decision in the progress of women's rights, had been overturned. I haven't talked about it with you yet. This letter is what I want to say, but it's taken me time (and writing) to process it.

I am furious with the political cheating that allowed this to happen and in the short-sightedness of those who are applauding it. This decision was the result of years of hypocrisy, gerrymandering, and lying.  There's no way to sugarcoat it. Though the majority of Americans believe in reproductive rights, a small minority was able to impose their will on everyone. It makes no sense that states are now allowed to fully restrict access to healthcare - access that my contemporaries and I have needed in order to save our lives in some cases - yet states have been denied the same broad-stroked ability to restrict carrying guns in public places. I am furious that a government intent on subjugating women continues to punish them for having children. Paid time off, universal child care, food and shelter support - NONE of these are available wide scale in the United States. 

So I am furious. But I am also terrified for your generation. Not only have women lost agency, and so many women AND children will be worse off than before, but the economic and societal implications of this decision are going to be something your generation will be dealing with for a long time. Reproductive freedom increased women's participation in the workforce, which strengthened the economy. Reproductive freedom meant those who were not financially ready or able to care for children did not need government assistance to support them and those who were desperate to start families had options. Reproductive freedom meant forward movement toward social equality for all. What happens when the system crumbles without the linch-pin that held it in place? What other rights will fall? 

You have less rights than I did at your age and for the next 30+ years of my life. I never took it for granted that I could make decisions about my body or that I had increased opportunities in the work force. I knew the struggles your grandmothers' generation had faced in gaining equal rights. Honestly, from the day I turned 18, I knew I was voting to protect my rights - to protect yours. I've voted for Republicans and Democrats, and even some Independents, over the years. But my vote for President was always for the person who would appoint a Supreme Court judge who believed that women's bodies were their own - not a man's and certainly not society's. I've known for a long time that this was coming and that it would have dire consequences for our republic. Too many people didn't (don't) see it - and that makes me sad.

YOU matter, M. I know it's hard to see that sometimes (especially during baseball season), and now it might be even harder to see as you move into adulthood, becoming the empowered woman that you were meant to be. I will be here to keep reminding you, doing my best to show you that women are not second-class citizens and we have the power - and the right - to prove it to the world.

Love you always,

Mama