Greetings, Meteor readers,

Why are there so many Christmas decorations up already? Can November live!?

In today’s newsletter, we look at three stories of what it’s like to seek care in America. Plus, some weekend plans.

Slow it down,

Shannon Melero

WHAT'S GOING ON

A recurring pattern: This week, you may have seen a viral video of Kiara Manuel, a woman in active labor at Dallas Regional Medical Center, having to answer intake questions while screaming in pain. Her mother, who recorded the ordeal, told local news outlets that staff at the hospital had left Manuel without care for over half an hour, choosing “paperwork over life.”

This week, you may have seen another viral video of Mercedes Wells, a woman who was told by a hospital in Indiana that she wasn’t really in active labor and was sent away. Eight minutes into her drive home, she gave birth on the side of the road. Wells’ sister-in-law told ABC 7 Chicago, “Mercedes begged her,” referring to a nurse. “She really begged her, she said I can feel it, I’m in active labor. She just ignored her.”

This week, you may have read the story of Tierra Walker, a mother in Texas who asked for an abortion after her pregnancy had left her “wracked by unexplained seizures” and at high risk for preeclampsia. Doctors at Methodist Hospital Northeast near San Antonio told Walker that under the state’s ban, they could not abort because there was no emergency—her pregnancy was fine, it was only her health in trouble, according to ProPublica, which broke the story. Walker’s son found her dead a month later, killed by preeclampsia.

All three of these women have one thing in common: they were Black women seeking reproductive care in America. It is a well-known statistic that maternal mortality rates among Black women are more than double that of any other racial group in the United States. Even outside of giving birth, Black women seeking care for any health issues face an onslaught of discrimination and neglect, rooted in centuries of racism.

One would assume that, given the staggering statistics, more would have been done to address the issue. But the stories of Kiara, Mercedes, and Tiara show us that it remains persistent, entrenched, and lethal—even though we know much of what it would take to improve Black maternal health. In the last two years, legislators have introduced the Black Maternal Health Momnibus Package and the “MOMMIES” Act. The Momnibus has seen some success in inspiring similar state laws, like this one in Michigan that recognizes and makes illegal “obstetric racism” and “obstetric violence.” But neither Momnibus nor the MOMMIES Act (which focuses on expanding Medicaid coverage for those who give birth) has received enough support from Congress to be passed.

So why aren’t we all doing more? Well, that is the incredible hold that systemic racism has on every aspect of this country. Despite the valiant attempts of some advocates in Congress, most members have not prioritized the issue. And even if they did, the issue requires holistic, aggressive approaches to even slightly move the needle in the right direction: racial bias training, new pathways to increase the number of Black OB-GYNs, accessible midwifery care, updated postpartum care and leave policies, and research funding to understand these disparities and the health conditions (like preeclampsia) that are more prevalent among Black women—and that’s just the beginning.

But it’s worth tackling. The business of birthing intersects with nearly every facet of life, from education to economics to infrastructure, and until it is treated as such, we will continue living in a world of too many viral videos, and too little action.

AND:

• The Texas A&M University System passed a new policy for the 12 schools it oversees. Journalist Erin Reed explains that the schools “now require prior review of any materials that ‘advocate for’ race or ‘gender ideology.’” What this means is that 12 learning institutions—all of which are teaching young adults at the collegiate level—now need permission to discuss anything relating to race, gender, or sexual orientation. Yes, even the five schools in the system that deal with teaching medicine.

• Did you ever think you’d live to see this day?

• The WNBA is slowly inching toward a new collective bargaining agreement for players that could potentially include a salary cap of $1.1 million. This sounds good for players—but hey, W, what about the revenue sharing? When are we getting those numbers?

• This Saturday, Gotham FC faces off against the Washington Spirit for the NWSL Championship. You already know who we’re rooting for 🦇.

“The Most Important Event Nobody Knows About”

It happened 48 years ago this week, in Houston

BY EMILY KOH

CORETTA SCOTT KING AND FELLOW DELEGATES AT THE 1977 NATIONAL WOMEN'S CONFERENCE. (VIA GETTY IMAGES)

Forty-eight years ago this week, my grandmother, Dr. Hesung Chun Koh, joined thousands of women from around the world in Houston, Texas to make history. They came to the first—and only—National Women’s Conference to adopt a National Plan of Action to improve the status of women in America. The plan delegates ultimately adopted at the conference included recommendations on a range of issues—including child care, education, health, and reproductive freedom—that still impact the lives of women today.

The conference brought together women from all walks of life, from leading figures including Coretta Scott King, Maya Angelou, and First Ladies Rosalynn Carter, Betty Ford, and Lady Bird Johnson to working women, “homemakers,” and students. It was a historic milestone in the women’s movement and American history, yet its impact is overlooked. Reflecting on the conference, Gloria Steinem declared it “a constitutional convention for the female half of the country.” And she noted: “It may take the prize as the most important event nobody knows about.”

It’s time to change that. The conference was an inflection point: a pinnacle achievement for the women’s movement. It also spurred backlash: Opponents who protested it pushed back on the idea that women deserve a full and equal role in public life. Now, that backlash remains as fierce as ever before, and our movement is at another inflection point. We are rapidly losing decades of progress; America is devolving into a nation where women are second-class citizens, transgender and nonbinary individuals cannot live openly and safely, and men suffer from rigid expectations of masculinity.

In two years, the fiftieth anniversary of the 1977 National Women’s Conference will be here—and a chance to revisit the National Plan of Action and co-create a new vision with women from all walks of life, men, and the LGBTQ+ community.

My grandmother immigrated to America from Seoul, South Korea, for college, and became one of the first Korean women to earn a doctorate in the United States. Her focus on the future made my life possible and created opportunities for the next generation. The vision she and her fellow delegates set forth in Houston can inform and inspire our work today. The question before us now is the same one they faced then: Will gender equity and equality advance or fall backwards in our lifetime? History calls on us to move forward.

Emily Koh served on the White House Gender Policy Council in the Biden-Harris Administration. She is currently working on an initiative to advance gender equity and equality in the U.S. that centers on the 50th anniversary of the 1977 National Women’s Conference.

WEEKEND READING 📚

On screen: Parents, it might be time to free yourself from YouTube Kids. (The Verge)

On a special kind of wellness: Orgasm. Cult. (TCF Emails)

On the state of men: Apparently, some men are searching for the tough love they desire in…the Orthodox church? (Yes, of course “traditional values” are part of the pitch.) (The New York Times)

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