Repro and Abortion Week – Page 2

Reproduction & Abortion Week: 16 and Pregnant: Degrassi and Abortion

This is a guest post by Lee Skallerup Bessette.

When I saw the call for submissions for this month’s feature on abortion and reproductive rights, I knew right away that I had to write about Degrassi. I grew up in Canada (suburban Montreal to be precise) and Degrassi was the show everyone watched. Even if you didn’t catch the episodes in primetime on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (or the CBC), they were on after school every afternoon. When Spike got pregnant, I was in grade 5 and all the grade 6 girls came to school with their little “Eggberts.” While I was a little young for the show, I rushed home after school to watch them in the afternoon as I was beginning to see myself as “too old” for the cartoons my younger brother wanted to watch.

I realized very quickly however that there would be a number of challenges in writing about these episodes (Spike’s pregnancy in Degrassi Junior High, Erica’s abortion in Degrassi High, and Manny’s abortion in Degrassi: TNG): untangling my emotional connection to the show and dealing with the different history of abortion and reproductive rights in Canada. While a co-production with WGBH (the Boston PBS affiliate), this show was about as Canadian you could get in terms of its look and attitude toward all of the issues dealt with.

(For an excellent analysis of how Degrassi has become less Canadian, read Amy Whipple’s insightful post.)

In 1987, when 14-year-old Spike was having sex with her boyfriend at a party, the Supreme Court of Canada was getting ready to rule that the current laws limiting access to abortion (a panel of three doctors needed to approve the procedure in a hospital setting) were unconstitutional. This was brought before the court by Dr. Henry Morgentaler, who had been brazenly flaunting the law since 1973 in Quebec. Dr. Mongentaler had been unsuccessfully brought to trial three times in Quebec; the juries in each case had been unwilling to convict, leading the government to declare the law unenforceable. The CBC has an excellent digital archive of news footage and interviews of Morgentaler and his cases in the courts.

In 1989, when 16-year-old Erica was getting an abortion because of a fling at summer camp, Chantal Daigle was fighting for the right to terminate her pregnancy against the wishes of the father. Once again, this case originated in Quebec and made national headlines. The case was expedited all the way to the Supreme Court of Canada, who ruleD in Daigle’s favor. Daigle had already obtained a late-term abortion in the United States when the ruling was handed down. It was seen as a victory for women’s reproductive rights in Canada. Although there were a number of attempts, there are currently no laws in Canada governing abortion.

I vaguely remember, as an 11 and 12 year old, the Chantal Daigle case, but I have absolutely no memory of the Morgentaler case. It’s notable that both these cases originated in Quebec, in particular the unwillingness of three Quebec juries to convict. After the tyranny of the Catholic Church ruling over the province for approximately 150 years, the 1950s, with the Quiet Revolution, and the 1960s, with everything that came along with that, saw the outright rejection of any and all Catholic religious influences. Including their disapproval of abortions. As a result, I grew up in an environment that while not embracing abortion, at the very least it was treated as being not a very big deal.

(It should also be noted that the period when Morgentaler was being brought before the courts in Quebec, the Separatist movement was gaining popularity, and thus there may have also been some residual resentment towards the federal government leading to the refusal to convict.)

I know this, so far, has read like a long history lesson cribbed for Wikipedia; it is. But it’s important to contextualize the culture in which these shows were being produced and in my case, consumed. For instance, I didn’t understand why Erica, when visiting the abortion clinic, was aggressively confronted by pro-life demonstrators, waving a plastic fetus at her (go to the 4:30 mark). This was more common in the rest of Canada, as compared to Quebec. But these types of protests outside of abortion clinics were common, even in Canada.

Notably, it’s Erica’s twin sister Heather who is scarred by the ordeal, and she has nightmares about the protests. But it is also Heather who stands beside her sister, as well as stands up for her sister when Erica receives threats from a pro-life student at Degrassi. What’s interesting is that the storyline isn’t wrapped up at the end of the two-part premiere (the abortion was one of the main storylines for the premiere episodes of the “new” Degrassi High series); it continues on across the entire first-half of the season, in the same way Spike’s decision to keep baby Emma is dealt with throughout the show’s run. The arguments are nuanced and the kids are treated with respect. The pro-life side is seen as being the destructive force, bullying, scaring, and shaming, while Spike puts it best: “It’s great to have high ideals and stuff, but when you’re in that situation, right and wrong, they can get really complicated.”

Fast-forward to 2004. Degrassi: The Next Generation (or TNG) has been airing on CTV in Canada and The N (originally Nick Teen) in the United States for three and a half seasons. The new iteration of the show started with Spike’s daughter Emma starting junior high herself. Emma’s best friend Manny, midway through season 3, who is trying to change her image from good girl to party girl, gets pregnant. She, too, struggles with what to do, eventually opting to get an abortion. Emma, at first, doesn’t approve of the decision, being the child of young, single mother herself. Spike once again offers wise council, telling Manny to do what is best for her. This upsets not only Emma, but also Craig, the father. Ultimately, Manny (who is identified as Filipino) goes to her mother and is surprised to receive her support, even taking Manny to get the abortion.

This was another two-part episode and it initially didn’t air in the United States. 2004 was during the height of the so-called Culture War in the US, while Canada still maintained a more open and liberal position on abortions. The article linked just above points out that, unlike most shows about teens that were airing at the time, Degrassi: TNG had the courage to take abortion seriously and handle it realistically; neither Manny nor Erica conveniently lose the baby, thus avoiding the reality of having to get an abortion. In both cases, the rights of the mother are given priority; even the women around them who may disagree with their decision ultimately defend the right to choose. And, as pointed out by Sarah, a blogger at Feminists for Choice, each girl goes on to have rich and varied (if, at times, melodramatic) storylines; Manny eventually lives her dream of becoming an actress, while we see Erica briefly during Degrassi: TNG looking happy and fulfilled (and notably not at all in distress when holding someone else’s baby).

So what, then, can we learn from this particularly Canadian perspective on abortion? Certainly, the idea of a woman’s right to choose is forefront in each portrayal, but it doesn’t trivialize the decision, either. The characters are shown dealing with the aftermath of the abortions, but not in a sensational way, either. In fact, it is often those around them who have the most difficulty with a profoundly personal decision. The bullying and shaming methods often used by the pro-life movement are shown as being ultimately counter-productive, both in the late 1980s and in the mid-2000s. Abortion, however, is just one decision in the long and full lives of these young girls, who are shown to go on and have relatively happy and fulfilled lives.

For that, I am glad that Canada has the history it has in regards to abortion, so that we may have these complex and ultimately, to my mind, satisfying portrayals of women’s reproductive rights.

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Lee Skallerup Bessette has a PhD in Comparative Literature and currently teaches writing in Kentucky. She also blogs at College Ready Writing and the University of Venus. She has two kids, and TV and movies are just about the only thing she has time for outside of her work and family. She also contributed a piece for Mad Men Week at Bitch Flicks called, “Things They Haven’t Seen: Women and Class in Mad Men” and a review of Friday Night Lights for Emmy Week 2011.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Fingernails and Shmushmorshmins: Abortion and Privilege in ‘Knocked Up,’ ‘Juno,’ and ‘4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days’

This is a guest review by Tom Houseman.

As abortion has become more accepted and less taboo in mainstream America—despite Republican lawmakers doing everything they can to appeal Roe v. Wade—films about pregnancies have had difficulty depicting its characters talking about or even considering abortion. If the movie is about pregnancy, and the journey that the characters take during the course of the pregnancy, then abortion would erase not just the main conflict, but the entire plot of the movie. You would be left with a twenty minute film about characters who neither grew nor changed, because we all know that having babies makes everyone into better-adjusted and more-fulfilled people. In 2007, two American comedies failed spectacularly in realistically addressing the issue of abortion, while a Romanian drama delivered one of the most stark and honest portrayals of a woman obtaining an illegal abortion.

Juno and Knocked Up were two of the biggest comedy hits of 2007, while 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days was completely ignored outside of the arthouse circuit. But both comedies not only do an awful job of treating abortion in a realistic manner, they completely ignore the privilege that their characters have, privilege that not only allows them to consider having a safe, legal abortion, but to decide instead to carry the fetus to term. Every decision that their protagonists make is driven by completely unacknowledged privilege, whereas the decisions that the protagonists of 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days make are greatly influenced by their lack of privilege. By comparing Juno and Knocked Up to the Romanian drama 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, we see the enormous, and largely overlooked, impact that privilege has on both the decision to have an abortion and the decision not to.

Alison shopping for the baby in Knocked Up

Knocked Up gives the most half-assed head nod to the idea of abortion possible and does not remotely recognize the role that class privilege plays in the decision to have a child. The protagonists of Knocked Up are Alison, an uptight TV producer who lives with her sister, and Ben, an unemployed, undocumented Canadian immigrant who spends his days getting stoned with his friends. The two meet at a bar and engage in a drunken one-night stand that, due to a communication error, does not involve contraception. When Alison discovers that she is pregnant, she is faced with a serious decision… kind of… but not really.

The idea of abortion is lazily floated in two scenes adding up to maybe a minute of the two-hour film. The only remarkable thing about these scenes is that throughout both of them nobody actually says the word “abortion.” While Ben bemoans his bad luck at having gotten a woman pregnant after deciding to have unprotected sex with her, his friends suggest plans of action. When Jonah makes the obvious suggestion that Alison simply “take care of it,” Jay is so outraged and offended by the mere idea of abortion that he refuses to let anyone say the word. From then on, Jonah says that what Alison should do “rhymes with shmushmorshmin.” Jay apparently is fine with people having premarital sex, but has deep moral conviction only when it comes to people dealing with the consequences of premarital sex.

Alison also has a very brief conversation about abortion with her mother, who makes very valid points about the impact it will have on Alison’s career. Even though Alison’s mother believes that Alison should get an abortion, saying that having the child would be “a big, big mistake,” she too does not say the word, also using the euphemism “take care of it.” Alison’s conversation with her blunt, critical mother is contrasted by the conversation Ben has with his jovial and supportive father. Ben’s father calls the pregnancy “a blessing,” and the implication is that his upbeat attitude is vastly preferable to Alison’s mother’s negativity.

Do we ever see Alison’s perspective on the issue? What are her thoughts on abortion, both as a legal concern and a personal one? Considering she seems like the type of person who had planned out her entire life, had she planned on having children, and if so, when? We do not see Alison deal with any of these questions, nor does she explain how or why she came to the decision to have her baby. Between the homophobic mockery and the jokes about how uptight and controlling women are, there is no room for serious discussion about abortion.

Nor, of course, is there room for Alison to acknowledge the privilege that goes in to making her decision. Despite not having her own apartment or house, Alison is very well off. She has a very well paying job that gives her financial freedom, a luxury that depressingly few in the United States have. In the flash of a second that abortion is considered, never is the question of whether or not Alison can afford the operation raised, likely because her job gives her health insurance that would cover such a procedure. The cost of raising a child is similarly never considered as a serious issue. Alison buys numerous books and various supplies without ever checking price tags or hunting for bargains. At one point, her sister Debbie offers to buy her a $1,400 crib without batting an eyelash.

In addition, Alison mentions that her employer, E!, will give her three months of paid maternity leave, so she will be able to give birth and care for her baby without having to worry about how she can afford to feed and clothe her newborn child. Alison is fortunate enough to work for a company with at least fifty employees, and to have been employed by them for at least a year. Otherwise she would not qualify for the Family and Medical Leave Act of 1993 mandate which requires companies to provide paid maternity leave for employees who meet the above conditions. This is just one of the many privileges that grant Alison the freedom to choose whether or not to abort her child without fear of any serious consequences except for “sacrificing [her] vagina.”

Juno tells a very different story about pregnancy, but still creates a remarkably ideal situation for its protagonist to make the issue of abortion and childbirth seem easier and free of life-changing repercussions. Juno is the eponymous protagonist of the film who, after losing her virginity, discovers that she is pregnant. Unlike Knocked Up, Juno spends a considerable amount of time debating whether or not abortion is the right decision for its protagonist to make, and gives us some insight into her thought process. The first person that Juno tells about her pregnancy is her friend Leah, and in the conversation that they have they both work under the assumption that Juno is going to abort the fetus. Compared to other teen pregnancy narratives that feature swelling music and melodramatic conversations, Juno’s discussions about abortion are straightforward, blunt, and reasonable.

Juno getting an ultrasound

Yet after some deliberation, and actually going to an abortion clinic, Juno decides not to have an abortion. What changes her mind? When walking into the abortion clinic she has a conversation with a classmate who is standing outside protesting. Her classmate informs her that at this period in her pregnancy her “baby” has already grown fingernails, which seems to force Juno to reevaluate her decision. Ignoring not just the relevance of this fact, but the accuracy (fetuses develop fingernails between weeks ten and fifteen, while by Juno’s estimation she is in her ninth or tenth week), we at least see multiple discussions that influence the character’s thought process and lead her to her final decision.

But while Knocked Up was at least realistic in depicting the privileges that allows Alison to have and raise a child with as little stress as possible, Juno‘s portrayal of teen pregnancy creates a situation so ideal for its protagonist’s pregnancy that it borders on fantasy. After choosing not to have an abortion, Juno decides instead to give her baby up for adoption, and finds an attractive, white, upper-middle class couple looking to adopt her baby. That stroke of luck not only stretches credulity, it paints a far rosier picture of the adoption process than reality. In 2007, when Juno was released, 133,640 children in the United States were waiting to be adopted, including 1,674 in Minnesota, where the film takes place.

Of course, one way in which this remarkably easy adoption process is realistic is the role that white privilege plays, although this privilege is of course never acknowledged in the film. White babies are typically far more in demand than babies of color; of all adopted children in the United States in 2000, 64% were white, while white children made up only 40% of children in the Foster Care system. If Juno were black or hispanic, would it have been so easy to find a well-off couple to adopt her child? Statistically, no, and it is likely that her child would have ended up in the foster care system. In 2009 the median amount of time spent in foster care was 13.7 months, and over half of children that were removed from foster care were taken back in by their birth parents, compared to only 20% that were adopted.

The ease with which Juno finds a family to adopt her baby is steeped in privilege both realistic and otherwise, but that is not the only way that Juno’s pregnancy is made as easy as possible for the sake of the narrative. Juno is a high school junior during the course of the film, and makes no effort to hide her pregnancy in any way. We get no sense that she is ostracized, bullied, or shamed for her decision, either by her classmates or by the school itself. Nor do we ever see any indication that her pregnancy interferes with her school work. Considering that approximately 70% of pregnant teenagers drop out of school, it is fair to say that the miniscule impact that pregnancy has on Juno’s life bears little resemblance to the reality of teen pregnancy.

Knocked Up and Juno paint an unrealistically bright picture of how pregnancy can impact a woman’s life. Both films take advantage of privileges without acknowledging them and even invent privileges that their characters would likely not have in the real world. In doing so, they create situations in which abortion does not have to be seriously considered. By giving abortion short shrift these films allow viewers to forget how serious and important a woman’s right to choose is, and how serious the consequences would be for real women in the same situations as Juno and Alison if abortion were not an option. 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days makes a strong case for legal abortion by showing just how terrible it is in the real world to be faced with either having to bear a child or to obtain a legal abortion. The film stands in stark contrast to Juno and Knocked Up not only because it released in the same year as those two films, but because the film treats pregnancy and abortion as serious issues, not fun jokes.

Cristian Mungiu’s film is set in Romania in the late 1980s, when the country was still part of the Soviet Union. This is a very different setting than either Minnesota or Los Angeles circa 2007; milk is a luxury, gasoline is a rarity, and cigarettes are contraband. The protagonists of the film are college students, not mired in poverty or starving, but well off and stable. This disparity between what it means to be well off in the United States and what it means in the Soviet Union makes it clear how difficult living under Soviet rule was. Otilia is a young woman trying to help her friend Gabriela get an abortion. While for Juno this is as simple as making an appointment at a clinic and attempting to not be swayed by the lone, peaceful protester, for Gabriela it is much more complicated. She and Otilia must contact a man who performs abortions, make an appointment at a hotel, and borrow enough money from friends to pay for everything. Every step of the way they know that if they are caught they will be arrested and imprisoned.

Gabriela attempts to lie to the man performing the operation, claiming that she is in her second month, but he realizes that she is further along than that (she never says how far she is but we glean that the film’s title is referring to the actual answer). He refuses to perform the procedure after he realizes that Gabriela was lying and that she does not have as much money as he wants, but decides that in addition to the payment that he wants to have sex with Otilia. This is the sort of situation that women can find themselves in when legal abortion is not an option. Otilia is faced with the decision of either making her friend carry her fetus to term–which would result in the end of any sort of academic career and would likely lead to a life of poverty if the father refuses to support the child–or to prostitute herself for the sake of her friend. Otilia is raped so that she can help her friend, a circumstance that feels a universe away from the witty quips and hamburger phones that make up Juno’s life.

The procedure itself is dangerous and potentially life threatening. It involves the man inserting a probe filled with fluid into Gabriela’s vagina while she lies still from between two and forty-eight hours. The unspecified fluid induces a miscarriage, which causes Gabriela to bleed significantly as she births her stillborn fetus. The unsanitary location and lack of professional medical equipment make it likely that Gabriela will either bleed out or get an infection during the course of the procedure. However, in the film, the procedure works effectively and Otilia disposes of the fetus while Gabriela rests and recuperates.

Gabriela and Otilia from 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days

Cristian Mungiu does not depict Gabriela’s abortion as relatively free of incident because he wants to portray this sort of illegal abortion as easy or simple. There are enough traumatic moments throughout the film to reinforce how dangerous and awful a backdoor abortion can be. Rather, the abortion itself is free of incident because Mungiu is making it clear that this is normal. We see Gabriela and Otilia mention other women who have had abortions, and they only find this man because he was recommended to them by a friend. In this society, illegal abortions are as common as legal abortions are in our society. But instead of going to a hospital or a clinic to have the operation done, women in Romania had to find people willing to perform the procedure in hotel rooms late at night, with the threat of imprisonment hanging over their heads the whole time.

For Juno and Alison, the decision to have a child is not easy, but it is simple. There is deliberation, and there is drama, and both of them consider their options carefully—although Alison mostly does so offscreen—but their choices are either to have a safe, legal abortion, or to have a safe, complication-free pregnancy and birth with a happy ending that involves for Juno giving the child to a well-off, stable woman, and for Alison raising the child in a well-off, stable household. Both films create characters and situations that are as conducive as possible to happy, healthy pregnancy and birth, and in some instances even strain the boundaries of reasonable possibility.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days presents a character in a situation who has none of the advantages and privileges that Alison and Juno have. In our current political climate that seems intent on repealing every reproductive right women have gained over the last fifty years, it is important for us not to take the right to choose for granted, to treat it like a joke, or to discuss it with hushed tones and euphemisms, as if it is something embarrassing that no respectable, reasonable woman would do. By presenting abortion as the wrong choice, and pregnancy and birth as easy and spiritually fulfilling, movies like Juno and Knocked Up support the conservatives in the culture war, no matter how progressive they might seem to be. Movies with these messages are dangerous for women, because they drastically misrepresent reality, leaving it to low-budget foreign dramas to tell the truths that desperately need to be heard.

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Tom Houseman was born white, straight, male, cis, and rich. He has done a lot of work unpacking and understanding his many forms of privilege. He is far from perfect, but he is learning. He writes film reviews and analysis for BoxOfficeProphets.com. If you want to officially like him, you can do so at Facebook.com/tomhousemanwriting.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Undesired

This piece on Undesired, by Martyna Przybysz, originally appeared at Bitch Flicks on March 26, 2012 as part of our Biopic and Documentary Series.

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It was a simple coincidence that led me to discovering this short film that you are about to watch. I was looking for a powerful story about women, in which their success or status would not be defined by their womanhood or the men in their lives. Instead, I have found exactly that, but in the worst possible scenario – a real life story of how India’s women are facing a slow extermination of the entire sex. Because in some families – especially the ones that cannot afford to pay the old-fashioned, dowry – women’s husbands, and their respective families are driven by the belief that the sole purpose of being a woman is to bring a son into the world. From the moment they are capable of bearing a child, those females are under threat of extreme violence and death if their duty is not fulfilled.

Undesired, with interviews and images shot by Walter Astrada, whom I believe to be a very courageous photojournalist, brings to light this painful and current social issue still faced by many. According to Reuters, modern day India is the fourth most dangerous place in the world for women to live, but it seems like it is also one of the most difficult ones for a female life to even begin. Gender inequality and the desire to rectify it, let alone feminism, seem like completely foreign concepts for certain classes. There is also a seeming contradiction in this entire predicament – if a woman is to be perceived as the bearer of life, how can she be made to bring about this life’s actual end?

Read more about the issue and Astrada’s project. Watch it, share it, spread the awareness.

In India, all women must confront the cultural pressure to bear a son. The consequences of this preference is a disregard for the lives of women and girls. From birth until death they face a constant threat of violence. See the project at http://mediastorm.com/publication/undesired

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Martyna Przybysz is a Pole who resides in London, UK. She works in film production. This is her blog: http://martynaprzybysz.tumblr.com.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: ‘Where Are My Children?’

This is a guest post by Erik Bondurant. Long before established reproductive rights, including the right to contraception and abortions, were being challenged, there was a long battle to earn these rights in the first place. Half a century before Griswold v. Connecticut would mark a real turning point for reproductive rights, director Lois Weber offered a powerful commentary, inspired by Margaret Sanger, on the morality of contraception in her 1916 silent feature Where Are My Children?

The film opens in heaven, where the souls of babies dwell, awaiting conceptions that will bring them down to Earth. These souls are divided into three groups. There is the highest order, granted to those who desire having children, there are chance babies, and then there are the unwanted babies, noted as being quick to return due to the intervention of either contraception or abortion. This casts the film in what may be an uncomfortably religious and moralistic tone for many.The issues of contraception and abortion are handled from a variety of angles. Richard Walton, a District Attorney, is taken with the idea of birth control primarily in its potential to weed out the supposed poor and unfit, perhaps preventing crime. This endorsement of eugenics was quite popular before the Nazi’s embrace of the concept made such support untenable. No less than Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, writing for an 8-1 majority, would claim that “three generations of imbeciles are enough” in upholding a forced sterilization law. Sanger herself was not above seeing the eugenic appeal of contraception. Eugenics remains tightly bound to the debate over abortion, with anti-abortion groups often citing drastically higher abortion rates among Black women as a form of eugenics and economist Steven Levitt arguing in Freakonomics that the legalization of abortion was a primary cause of the subsequent fall in crime rates.

Intellectually, the film hits its peak with its focus on Dr. Homer and his testimony at a trial in support of contraception. Through his eyes we see various large families stuck in poverty and women suffering the grinding fate of being pregnant every year, until menopause or death. With a bit too much symmetry to the recent all-male Congressional panel on the matter, we are told “a jury of men disagreed with Dr. Homer’s views.” Thus a pamphlet discussing family planning is ruled obscene.The emotional heart of the story takes place within the District Attorney’s own household. He is desperate to have children, but his wife enjoys the freedom to remain in the social scene. This is a group of women who, in contrast to the poor families that Dr. Homer discussed, are curiously unladen with children. This, we find out, is because they have access to an illegal abortion provider named Dr. Malfit. When one of his patients dies from complications and the District Attorney’s prosecution unveils the client list, the film roars to its dramatic conclusion with Walton condemning his wife, asking her the titular question.

Like Vera Drake, this film shows class divisions within reproductive services in an environment where those services are illegal, and the cost that can come from illegal abortions. However, unlike Mike Leigh’s film, this film is decidedly anti-abortion, which may be off-putting to some watching it from a modern perspective. Ultimately, the important pro-contraception aspect of the film and the compelling dramatic construction in portraying the heavy moral component to abortion, no matter what one ultimately thinks of abortion, makes Where Are My Children? a must-see film. Lois Weber, one of the first and greatest directors in cinema history, provides a much-needed woman’s voice and eye on the topic.Where Are My Children? is available to stream for free.

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Erik Bondurant is a political scientist and a film blogger at The Movie Review Warehouse and contributor to Sound on Sight, with a primary focus on the portrayal of politics, gender and sexuality in cinema.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Mad Men and The War on Women, 1.0

This is a guest post by Diana Fakhouri.

It’s not easy being a lady in the working world today. We’re still fighting for equal pay for equal work, freedom from workplace harassment, and the right to decide what grows (or implants itself) in our uteruses. In all honestly, it’s not terribly different from the drama unfolding at Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce every Sunday night, which is exactly the reason my baby boomer mother can’t stand Mad Men: “I lived it,” she says with exasperation, “why would I enjoy watching it over again?”

Do the liberal-arts educated, Anthropologie-clad millenials fawning over Betty Draper Francis’ silk scarfed bouffants see the irony my mom pointed out? As a card (or more accurately, BA) carrying member of the club, I’d like to say that we do. I’d be hard pressed to find a ladyfriend without a reproductive rights war story of her own, from sanctimonious pharmacists offering unprescribed admonitions to early morning drives across state lines to a clinic. While the scarier aspects of Mad Men-era reproductive health (Betty’s twilight sleep birthing experience from season three, for starters) seem like a far-off nightmare to today’s twentysomethings, neo-conservatives’ war on women makes it clear that such arcane threats may not be so distant.

Betty awakes from her twilight sleep after giving birth to Draper’s third child

Take abortion. Considering it’s still a litmus test for sociopolitical values, you’d think among pre-civil rights Americans the topic, let alone the execution of the procedure, would be a taboo subject. Right? Not quite. When mad man Roger Sterling impregnates his on again, off again secretary side piece Joan Harris (née Holloway), he immodestly assumes she’ll want an abortion and offers to pay to “fix” the situation. But Joan decides to keep the child, leaving her husband, surgeon Greg Harris, in the dark as to the child’s paternity, thereby reclaiming her body and sense of agency. By her own admission, Joan’s terminated two prior pregnancies, so her decision isn’t based on moral grounds. Craving motherhood and disappointed by a number of fertility misfires with Greg, Joan forges her own path. The implicit consequences of Joan’s choice are clear, but Roger and Joan’s extramarital affair is far healthier than her wedded life, and it seems fitting that the baby Joan seeks is born from her relationship with Roger.

Joan introduces her son Kevin to the office, and his father

It doesn’t take much to beat Joan and Greg in the healthy relationships department, though. Shortly after introducing Greg, and depicting his less-than-chivalrous behavior, creator/writer Matthew Weiner blows the lid off Greg and Joan’s curious courtship with a maddening rape. Forcing himself on an unwilling Joan in her boss Don Draper’s private office, viewers come to understand Joan’s options: quietly endure sexual violence to be a respected doctor’s wife and mother, or continue in limbo as a single working woman with no respectable chance at a family. While it’s Greg who commits the rape, it’s the cultural castigation of single, working mothers that forces Joan’s hand, leading her into the arms of a sexual predator.

This same stigma precludes Peggy from motherhood, leading the (sometimes) Catholic secretary-cum-copywriter to go through with her pregnancy but put her child up for adoption. Resident Sterling-Cooper-Draper-Pryce cad Pete Campbell (runner-up to Dr. Harris for most egregious husband of the 20th century) is the father of Peggy’s child, sure to be the first in a line of many illegitimage offspring for the the account executive. Though their dalliance has little effect on Pete – with the exception of a few seasons’ worth of sidelong glances and shifty elevator rides between the two – Peggy’s determined resilience to continue her career unblemished is both a triumph and a tragedy. As one of the agency’s brightest creative stars, Don’s up-and-coming ingenue, Peggy conveys confidence in choosing her career over motherhood. But she isn’t without regrets, which she reveals to Don over diner coffee: “Do you ever think about it?” he prods. “I try not to,” Peggy reflects, “But it comes out of nowhere sometimes. Playgrounds.” The line is drawn out, mumbled, underscoring Peggy’s pain. Elizabeth Moss (who plays Peggy) told Vulture.com that it was her favorite line of the season, suggesting how strongly modern women relate to Mad Men‘s female characters.

Peggy and Don share grief, and coffee

In Rosengate‘s aftermath, the conversation on working mothers is more fraught than ever. “’Working mother’ is a redundant phrase” is the neo-conservative right’s new mantra, and I won’t begrudge them the satisfaction of believing it. But let’s not pretend that the stay-at-home-mom is the equal of the working mother. It’s an affront to parents of all backgrounds: those with the luxury to choose an at-home parent over a second income and those whose finances dictate the decision. Mad Men‘s place on the cusp of this working mother’s revolution is telling, yet quietly disheartening for its glaring proof that we’ve entered a regressive era for reproductive rights.

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Diana Fakhouri holds a BA in English Literature from The College of William and Mary. Baltimore born and Virginia bred, she now lives in Richmond and has never turned down a Mimosa. Say hey on Twitter and Tumblr!

Reproduction and Abortion Week: Friday Night Lights

In many shows, pregnancy is a simplistic and glossed-over story line, a plot device that comes nowhere near to a realistic depiction of a woman’s experience. How many times have you seen a woman in a television show or movie throw up and know: She’s pregnant! Then you see montages, baby bumps, pregnant women behaving like silly pregnant women, birth, happiness. The end.

In five seasons on the air, Friday Night Lights featured at least three characters who had to make difficult choices about pregnancy: Erin, Tami Taylor, and Becky Sproles. (Mindy Collette is another character who struggles with pregnancy in the show.) We’ve published pieces about Friday Night Lights before, but I want to talk about the show’s excellent handling of pregnancy and abortion in regard to these three particular characters.

Tamara Jolaine as Erin

Erin

When Jason Street has a blind date with a woman who has an odd fetish related to men in wheelchairs, waitress Erin comes to his rescue–giving Jason a hiding place and telling his date that he left the restaurant. Jason and Erin hit it off, spend the evening together, and end up having what she believes to be a one-night stand. At this time Jason thinks he’s sterile due to his injury, and the two throw caution to the wind and have unprotected sex.

When Erin turns out to be pregnant, she tells Jason and he immediately pressures her, saying that this may be his “only chance” to be a father. Erin, a very minor character who isn’t even given a last name (as far as I know), nails him on his attempt at emotional manipulation:

You need to stop … You do not get to put that on me. I’m not some experiment for you to prove your manhood, Jason. This is my body. I am going to make the ultimate decision.

Sarah Seltzer, writing for RH Reality Check, nicely analyzes this moment:

Erin pinpoints the way women’s bodies are so often used as battlegrounds for men trying to advance an agenda, personal or political. Jason’s injury has made him so desperate for a chance to be strong and important and yes, masculine again, that he loses any sense that she is a person, too. Jason can’t control his own body, so he wants to control hers.

While Erin does decide to carry the pregnancy to term, and later marries Jason Street (after he experiences a string of improbable successes), it isn’t without debate and discussion. We don’t see much of Erin’s pregnancy, but Jason seems to be a supportive partner in the matter. While happily ever after for these two isn’t the most realistic storyline, the way the unplanned pregnancy is handled isn’t particularly groundbreaking, but it’s not too bad for a network show supposedly about small-town high school football.

Connie Britton as Tami Taylor

Tami Taylor

In the final episode of the first season, an already-frazzled Tami (dealing with an impending move for her husband’s job, among other things) fears she might be pregnant. She enters a Planned Parenthood clinic and asks for a pregnancy test. Though she doesn’t have an appointment, nurse Corinna Williams sees the distraught woman, takes her back, gives her the test, and tells her, in an excited voice, that she is, indeed, pregnant.

“How pregnant do you want to be? Because you’re extremely pregnant.”

When Tami looks less than happy about the news, Corinna asks her, “Do you want to be pregnant?” A teary-eyed Tami responds:

Do I want to be pregnant? Do I want to be pregnant? I don’t know. […] We planned it, like, thirteen years ago. And then twelve years ago, and then eleven years ago, and then ten years ago.

Even though Tami is financially stable, married, educated, has a job as a guidance counselor, and already has a teenage daughter–is the example of success and stability in the community–her answer to Corinna isn’t an unequivocal yes. Why? Because choosing to have a child, when it’s unplanned, is always a difficult decision. Tami struggles to even have the conversation with her husband, busy as he is with the state football championship. The pregnancy affects the entire family, too, something else for which FNL deserves praise.

The show skips most of Tami’s actual pregnancy (it occurs during the break between the first and second seasons), but picks up the story and closely follows her experience as a new mother, even if it is her second time around. With all her privilege and advantages, balancing work, family, and her own personal life is still a challenge. Her teenage daughter proves less than supportive, her husband is largely absent due to work, and she certainly could have benefited from some on-site childcare when she returns to her job at the school. Overall, Friday Night Lights does an excellent job of portraying a family that believed it was complete dealing with an unplanned pregnancy and a new baby.

Madison Burge as Becky Sproles

Becky Sproles

In season four (my personal favorite), Becky, a 10th grade girl who has a one-night stand with football star Luke, chooses to have an abortion. This is the only abortion featured in the show, and was one of the few on network television since Maude in the 1970s (Roseanne took on abortion in the 1990s, too). That alone is a bold statement about choice, but the show also handles the story line very well. Becky tells Luke, and seeks advice from Tami (who at this point is the principal of East Dillon High). In a most careful and professional way, Tami lays out Becky’s options, mentioning support available for teen mothers, adoption, and, only when Becky mentions not wanting to give birth, some pamphlets available for that (she doesn’t speak the word “abortion”). Becky’s decision is deeply personal, and she chooses to go through with an abortion with the support (one could argue pressure) of her mother, a single woman who gave birth to Becky when she was a teenager.

Becky struggles with her choice, and goes back and forth with her decision, wondering if she could actually care for a child. The show allows her to explore her conflicting feelings and emotions; in another talk with Tami, Becky says:

We don’t have any money. I’m in the 10th grade, and it’s my first time. And I threw it way, and I don’t want to throw my life away. It’s just really obvious that my mom wants me to have this abortion. Because I was her mistake and she has just struggled and hurt everyday, and she wanted better and I knew better. And then I was just thinking, you know, forget what she wants, like, what do I want? And maybe I could take care of this baby, and maybe I would be good at it, and I could love it and I would be there for it. And then I was just thinking how awful it would be if I had the baby and then I spent the rest of my life resenting it, or her.

The women face a mandatory waiting period at the clinic, which forces Becky’s mother to take another day off work–the only overtly political commentary on Becky’s own experience. The ripple effects in the community, however, quickly turn political. When Luke’s mother finds out about Becky’s abortion and Tami counseling her on the decision, she starts a chain of events in the community that ends in the call for Tami to leave her job as principal. In her analysis of the women in the show, guest writer Lee Skallerup Bessette says:

Those around her (her mother, the mother of the baby’s father, the community) seem more upset and emotionally reactionary than Becky herself. It also seems that the extreme reactions of those around her affect her more than the abortion itself […] Abortion, it would seem, is not the issue; the hysteria surrounding it is.

Decisions surrounding reproductive choice are difficult and emotional enough without state-mandated barriers and interest groups pressuring women to carry all pregnancies to term. While Friday Night Lights had a majority of its pregnant characters give birth, and some story lines were more convincing than others, the show was careful to depict each one as an individual choice, and give the women dignity and autonomy.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Obvious Child

This piece on Obvious Child, by Amber Leab, originally appeared at Bitch Flicks on November 4, 2009.

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Abortion is a legal medical procedure, and it’s presented as such in this film. That alone is a welcome change–as others have stated–from recent film and television. Obvious comparisons have been made to Knocked Up and Juno, as both completely failed in their representations of options for a woman facing an unplanned pregnancy (the former refusing to even speak the word abortion, and the latter representing a dumpy and disturbing clinic).

The star of Obvious Child, Donna (played by Jenny Slate), is a freelancer who lives in hipster Brooklyn. Others have mentioned the “indie sensibility” of the film, and Donna is the kind of privileged hipster many of us love to hate–and she’s a little bit like Juno in this regard, with toned-down dialogue and ten years added. She has an immature sense of humor (her use of “fart-face” and “fucktard” come to mind), and she just wants to go out and have a good time after the ugly end of her two-year relationship with Joe.

Click here to read the full piece on Obvious Child.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: Procreation at the End of Civilization: Reproductive Rights on ‘Battlestar Galactica’

The cast of Battlestar Galactica

This is a guest review by Leigh Kolb.

“All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.”

The opening credits of each episode of Battlestar Galactica, which aired from 2004 – 2009, set the premise for the plot: “The Cylons were created by man. They evolved. They rebelled. There are many copies. And they have a plan.” During a few episodes later in the series, the plight for humans’ survival is highlighted with the announcement: “The human race. Far from home. Fighting for survival.” Most of the beginning credits also show the population tally, which dwindles after each battle. President Laura Roslin says at the beginning of their journey, “The human race is about to be wiped out. We have 50,000 people left and that’s it. Now, if we are even going to survive as a species, then we need to get the hell out of here and we need to start having babies.”

When a society is thrust into time of struggle and chaos and its existence is threatened, reproductive rights and bodily autonomy are among the first rights to be taken away by those in power. Battlestar Galactica shows us, as good science fiction does, the moral struggles we face now, and what they might look like in the future.

There are moral issues at stake throughout the entire series, including the erosion of prisoners’ and laborers’ rights so that others may live more comfortably. The same critical lens is cast on forced birth, forced abortion, eugenics and abortion restrictions.

Early in the second season, Kara “Starbuck” Thrace has returned to Cylon-occupied Caprica (home planet for the crew of Battlestar Galactica) to find her destiny and aid the resistance, a group of humans who have stayed behind to fight the Cylons. She is kidnapped and knocked out, and wakes up in a hospital bed. Her “doctor” (who later is revealed as a Cylon) tells her she was shot in the abdomen and they have removed the bullet. As she drifts in and out of consciousness, she becomes suspicious. The doctor has excuses for every inconsistency. He tells her they’d operated because they suspected she had a cyst on her ovary. He says, “You gotta keep that reproductive system in great shape… it’s your most valuable asset these days. Finding healthy childbearing women your age is a top priority for the resistance. You are a very precious commodity to us.”

Starbuck replies, “I am not a commodity. I’m a viper pilot.”

Admiral William Adama, left, and President Laura Roslin

He persists, and finally says, “The human race is on the verge of extinction. Potential mothers are a lot more valuable right now than a whole squadron of viper pilots.” He keeps pushing her into more vulnerable territory by bringing up old scars that suggest she was abused, and perhaps that’s why she’s afraid to have children. This pushes Starbuck over the edge and she screams at him to get out.

Her reproduction has become a commodity; it takes precedence over anything that she might be as an individual. When she pushes back against these ideas, she’s made to feel shame and vulnerability, as if that will guilt her into wanting to procreate. This philosophy is consistent among anti-abortion groups—if women are perceived as too strong, independent and resistant to motherhood (as Starbuck certainly is), they simply need to be coerced into realizing the importance of that goal. It’s their responsibility to mother more than anything else.

When she wakes again, she has a new scar and the doctor tells her “We’re just about done with you, Starbuck.” He attempts to put her back under, but she has removed the IV—she’d never told him her handle was Starbuck. She stumbles out of the room—the hospital used to be a mental institution, which begs the audience to consider the implications of maternity and captivity—and overhears the doctor and a Cylon talking about her ovaries, suggesting that her eggs had been harvested or were about to be.

Eventually she kills the doctor, takes his keys and stumbles into a room full of drugged, barely conscious women with their knees up and machines and tubes coming out from under their hospital gowns. She recognizes a friend from the resistance, Sue-Shaun, and tries to start freeing her from the machinery. Instead, she begs Starbuck to kill the power. “It’ll kill you,” Starbuck says, but Sue-Shaun pleads, “I can’t live like this—they’re baby machines. Please. Please.” Starbuck takes a surgical instrument and smashes the power supply; sparks fly, and the women die.

Sharon, a Cylon who has joined ranks with the resistance after falling in love and becoming pregnant with Helo, another viper pilot, informs Starbuck that this was one of the Cylons’ Farms, where human women were taken and inseminated to attempt a human/Cylon breeding program, which hadn’t yet been successful. The Cylons had failed to reproduce naturally, so they were finding other means. Sharon says, “Procreation is one of God’s commandments—be fruitful.” Starbuck fires back that “raping women” is what they’re doing, and Sharon defensively counters that love was the missing component, since she and Helo have successfully become pregnant.

Sue-Shaun’s insistence that the power be shut off, thus killing every woman-turned-incubator, further shows the lengths that women will go to resist reproducing unwillingly. Sharon’s insistence that if love were in the equation, and if a Cylon and human were “set up,” like she and Helo were, that the forced reproduction would somehow be more palatable, shows the ideology that allows these atrocities to be committed—procreation above all. It’s what God wants.

Starbuck “rescues” Sue-Shaun from forced reproduction

All Starbuck wants to do at this juncture is get a raider ship and liberate every Farm—but she’s reminded this is not her destiny. The women, the audience sees, will have to wait. Because while procreation is so important to a threatened species that women’s bodily autonomy and choice can be set aside, righting those wrongs are not among the first priorities.

Later in season two, there is much turmoil surrounding the Sharon and Helo’s pregnancy. Back on Battlestar Galactica, Sharon is in a holding cell because she is a Cylon. President Laura Roslin, who is on her deathbed (she was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer before the attack), orders that Sharon’s baby be aborted after Dr. Cottle tells her that there are some genetic abnormalities showing up in the fetus. Dr. Gaius Baltar disagrees (for self-serving, political reasons). Roslin says, “Allowing this thing to be born could have frightening consequences for the security of this fleet—I believe the Cylon pregnancy must be terminated before it’s too late.”

As Admiral Adama and the men around her question her decision, she remembers something Caprica’s former president said to her and says, “The interesting thing about being president is that you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone” (most certainly a reference to the same quote attributed to President George W. Bush). She is in control, and will use that control over another woman’s body because, being half-Cylon, the fetus is “the other,” and represents the enemy.

As Adama tells Helo the abortion must take place, Helo asserts, “We’re talking about a child—a part of me. I guess it’s easier to kill when you call it a Cylon.”

Sharon reacts with anger and rage, screaming “Let them try and take my baby” to Helo before she starts banging her head bloody into the thick glass keeping her separated from the rest of the fleet. Armed guards come to get her and she uses her chair as a weapon, and they must hold her down and sedate her.

As Sharon is wheeled into the medical unit for the procedure, Baltar bursts into the room saying that the fetal bloodwork has a resistance to disease, and seems to kill cancer cells on contact. Instead of receiving an abortion, blood is drawn from Sharon’s fetus and injected into Roslin. Roslin seizes as Sharon gazes at her from her nearby bed—as Roslin comes to and instantly heals, she and Sharon make eye contact. Two women, utterly in control of one another’s futures.

The cancer is gone. The half-Cylon, half-human is safe.

Back in her holding cell, Sharon’s belly has grown larger, and she strokes her much-wanted future child lovingly. Roslin sees her, and has a pained look on her face.

Again, power, fear and desperation lead those who can to make decisions for other people, especially when those people are “the other.” Procreation is necessary and blessed, unless it’s not.

And just as Sue-Shaun was willing to die instead of mother without her consent, Sharon was willing to kill before losing the baby she wanted.

Later in the series, Sharon’s baby will be taken from her again and, while she has been told the baby is dead, given away to another couple to raise. Starbuck will be haunted by who she’s made to believe is her little girl from her egg harvest, and she’s thrust into a (false) motherhood and personal turmoil. The choices they did not get to make tear them from the life they desired.

Toward the end of season two, after the audience has been presented with the reproductive issues of attempted forced births and abortion, the question of choice in the face of societal turmoil is posed. A stowaway teenager has made it on to Galactica from her colony of Gemenon, where abortion is illegal. Cottle tells Adama that he performs abortions for women: “I do my work, she leaves, I don’t ask a lot of questions.” “You’re going to start,” says Adama, who has been contacted by the frantic parents of the missing young woman.

The young woman says, “It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m not going to change my mind,” and then begs them to not send her back, because she is afraid of her parents and the fundamentalist religious rules of her colony—she wants asylum on Galactica.

“Some might say,” says Cottle, “she was the victim of political persecution.”

Adama glares at him, and the doctor walks away.

As is so often the case in matters of reproductive decision-making, the doctor is pushed out of the picture because of politics.

The colonial representative from Gemenon, Sarah, comes to Roslin to plead for the young woman. She says that abortion “is an abomination in the eyes of the gods” and threatens to remove support for Roslin’s campaign unless the young woman is released back to Gemenon.

Roslin is strong in her convictions (at first) that abortion was legal in the Colonies, and it must be legal still. “I’ve fought for woman’s right to control her body my entire career,” she says, clearly struggling with the tension of political and seemingly practical ramifications of her orders.

As she makes these assertions, the white board with 49,584 written on it looms behind her. The population, Adama reminds her, is a consideration, and reminds her that she herself had said, “We’d better start having babies.”

Roslin researches demographics, and Baltar tells her that if humans continue on their present course, they would be extinct in 18 years.

The audience then hears Roslin’s voice at a press conference making a radio address, saying that while people have enjoyed the rights and freedoms they had before the attack, “One of those rights is in direct conflict with the survival of the species.” The pregnant teenager touches and looks down at her swollen abdomen as Roslin says, “We must repopulate the fleet.” She then announces that she’s making an executive order that “anyone seeking to interfere with the birth of a child—mother or medical professional—will be subject to criminal charges.”

Sharon reacts violently to the news that her fetus will be aborted without her consent

However, before the executive order is in place, Roslin is sure that the Gemonese teenager is granted an abortion and asylum.

When Sarah confronts Roslin with this information, she says “Word has it you’re not going to prosecute the Gemonese girl.” Exasperated, Roslin says, “She has a name, Sarah—I think she’s suffered enough… Take your victory and move on.”

Another press conference, another political power play by Baltar on Roslin, and we come full circle again—women’s reproductive rights reduced to a political wedge, to keep support, win voters, and attempt to repopulate the fleet. It’s not about the woman.

Nor is it in 2012 America, on Earth, far away from the notion of battleships and humanoid machines.

While America is still in the throes of economic decline, already in 2012 944 reproductive health and rights provisions have been introduced by legislatures, including many that restrict access to abortion and contraception. Much of the rhetoric used by anti-abortion and anti-contraception factions (like the monotheistic Cylons) includes the ideology that women should be mothers, should embrace motherhood and fulfill their purpose as a procreating species.

At the same time, the US has a legacy of eugenics and sterilization. Even as recently as 2011, a Louisiana lawmaker proposed legislation that would give incentives to poor women to be sterilized. He also has proposed a ban on all abortion—again showing that reproduction is beautiful and necessary—unless the state says otherwise. Modern society is also no stranger to forced adoptions.

The Cylons, throughout the series, demonstrate a monotheistic religion that has similar rhetoric to fundamentalist Christianity. On the other hand, the Colonies are polytheistic—seemingly more progressive and inclusive, having legalized abortion. President Roslin is clear in her personal struggle to make decisions that go against a lifetime of pro-choice activism. Eventually, though, the rhetoric all converges. Women must reproduce for the greater good. Their individual autonomy must be put aside for the fleet, for God/the gods, for politics and for others to live.

At the end of the opening credits of Battlestar Galactica, there is an intense teaser reel of what was coming up in the episode. We would always close or eyes, or look away from the screen, because we didn’t want to see what was coming. It’s easy to do that with every issue that science fiction and dystopian fiction bring before us—look away, because we don’t want to know what’s coming. In reality, these political and moral dilemmas are not taking place in some star system light years away; they are taking place here. They are taking place now.

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Leigh Kolb is an English and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri, and has an MFA in creative nonfiction writing. She lives on a small farm with her husband, dogs, chickens, and garden, and makes a terrible dinner party guest because all she wants to talk about is feminism and reproductive rights.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: October Baby

Movie poster for October Baby

This guest review by Erin Fenner originally appeared at Trust Women and is republished with the author’s permission.

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This is the second part of a two-part series where I examined first how abortion has been portrayed in contemporary films, and in this post how October Baby addresses it.

What October Baby lacks for in quality, it makes up for in heavy handedness. The stiff acting and bland writing would normally just make October Baby a dull movie. But, coupled with ignorance and surprisingly good sales – $1.7 million in its first weekend – it also poses a threat to the narrative around choice by pushing a misleading and deceptive message about abortion.

The protagonist of October Baby is a college-aged woman, Hannah, who realizes she is adopted and the result of a failed late-term abortion. Her doctor speculates that this late-term abortion attempt is the cause of her health problems such as her bad hip and asthma.

Hannah proceeds to go on a trying-to-be-quirky but actually maudlin coming-of-age road trip to find her biological mother. The trip is packed full of slow-motion crying scenes and temper tantrums.

Of course a person has license to be wrought after learning she was adopted at the age of 19 and her parents have kept it a secret all that time. But, Hannah is downright infantile – reflecting the GOP’s seeming perception that women are children that need to be watched over. Hannah regularly stomps off from mild disputes with arms crossed and falsetto whimpers, while the men in her life level reasonable concerns in even tones. The girl literally pouts in her father’s car while he and her romantic interest, Jason, have an argument about her future.

Can I point out again that this is a 19-year-old college student? Yet her father spends most of the movie telling her friends how they are allowed, or rather not allowed, to behave around Hannah.

I haven’t even gotten to how abortion is directly discussed in the movie. But, how women are treated and men are elevated to the status of patriarch and protector is what the choice debate is all about. GOP leaders don’t think women can make choices for themselves and that they need to be protected – not just from spooky outside forces – but from themselves. Jason is always there to provide a condescending pat on the head. What more could a dopey girl want in a man? Certainly not someone who wants an egalitarian relationship not dictated by archaic standards. (Spoilers: Jason finally goes on a giggly date with Hannah because her patriarch called him and said the two should get together. So many gals love it when their parents set up their dates for them, right? No need to be an autonomous individual then.)

To the issue of abortion!

On her road trip, after getting out of being arrested by pulling that notorious “I’m the result of a failed late-term-abortion” card, a cop tells Hannah that while searching for her mother she should “hate the crime, not the criminal.” Sure, the guy is speaking somewhat metaphorically, but coming from a cop it sure makes abortion sound like a crime. Which, may I remind you Red States of the USA, it is not!

A scene that is supposed to be emotionally pivotal occurs when Hannah meets a nurse who was present during her abortion attempt/birth. Cue the crying montage! Cut to nurse weeping alone in her cheap apartment. Cut to Jason lurking protectively outside the complex. Cut to Hannah tearing up the card with her bio-mother’s phone number, before cutting to a scene where she stares intently at the poorly taped up card.

But, back to the scene prior to crying: the nurse relays that she was made to do horrible things at the clinic she worked at for a doctor who had been the recipient of threats of violence. She tells Hannah that her biological mother was a woman who wanted to get an education and insinuated she got the abortion at 24 weeks because of convenience. Less than two percent of abortions happen after 20 weeks. And, late-term abortions are not doled out casually. In most states there needs to be threat to life and health of the mother, or the fetus needs to be non-viable for a late-term abortion to be legally performed.

The nurse wraps up about the bio-mom by saying that she did get that education and career after all. And, we in the audience are supposed to bellow: At what cost? This made my eyes roll so loud that I got “shhhd” by other audience members. Ok my eye-rolling didn’t get shushed, but it seemed plausible.

I counter that straw man (big ole’ patriarchal dominating straw man by the way) with facts. Women get abortions – regardless of the laws on the books, and women are safer when abortion is legal. (So, that should make the paternalistic women-protecting GOP happy, right?) About 30 percent of women will get an abortion before the age of 45. And, in countries where abortion is illegal and harder to obtain, women get them at higher rates and experience greater risk to their health than where abortion is legal. As mentioned earlier, women don’t get late-term abortions because they are silly fickle things who don’t have a solid man to help them make up their minds. Women get later abortions because their health is threatened or the fetus isn’t viable. Instead of insinuating that abortion is criminal, we should be making sure the procedure is accessible at an earlier stage of pregnancy and safer at later stages of pregnancy when women do have to make that difficult decision.

October Baby was produced and supported with funding from evangelical groups like Focus on the Family. The directors, brothers Andrew and Jon Erwin, said that this wasn’t meant to be a political movie, but rather intended to inspire thoughtful discussion. But, in their false representation of abortion they’re amplifying fear rather than appealing to viewers’ higher cognitive reasoning.

Despite their stated purpose, the directors are playing the same simplistic game the GOP has been playing in trying to reduce a complicated issue down to fear tactics and misplaced sentimentality.

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Erin Fenner is a legislative intern with Trust Women: working for the reproductive rights of women in conservative Midwestern states by researching and tracking bills. I also write for the Trust Women blog and help manage their social media networks. She graduated from the University of Idaho with a B.S. in Journalism.

Reproduction & Abortion Week: The Dancer’s Dilemma

Dirty Dancing poster

This is a guest review by Myrna Waldron.

I was less than a year old when Dirty Dancing came out. It is known for the chemistry between its stars, incredible choreography, and a fantastic soundtrack that balances the sounds of the 60s and the 80s. It’s a typical coming-of-age story, but one of the less-discussed plot points in the film is how it approaches the consequences of an unintended pregnancy during a time in which abortion was still illegal (The film takes place in 1963). As a lifelong fan of the film, Dirty Dancing was my first introduction to the issues of abortion. The film is incredibly progressive in its depiction of Penny Johnson (Cynthia Rhodes), a dancer forced to face the most difficult of decisions, and makes a very strong illustration of the consequences of illegal abortions.

In her introductory scenes where she is dancing a mambo with the main love interest, Johnny Castle (Patrick Swayze), Penny explodes on the screen as a vision of raw sexuality and incredible talent. Frances “Baby” Houseman (Jennifer Grey) is instantly awed and envious of Penny’s dancing abilities, and attempts to befriend her. One of the major themes of Dirty Dancing is its class distinctions, and the dancers are under especially strict orders from their boss not to get too close to the wealthy families staying at the resort. Penny’s responses to Baby are thus aloof, but she still reveals a tremendous amount of background information; Penny’s mother kicked her out of the house at 16, and she has been dancing ever since because it was the only thing she ever wanted to do. Penny has thus been established as someone of low income, with no familial support. The subtext of Penny’s backstory is that dancing for her is her only means of income; she does not see herself as having any other abilities.

Cynthia Rhodes as Penny Johnson in Dirty Dancing

When Penny’s pregnancy is discovered, she is shown curled up in a darkened corner, shivering and sobbing. Her only friends at the resort, Johnny and his cousin Billy, instantly figure out what is wrong just from Baby’s report of Penny’s frightened and desperate state. It is an important aspect of Penny and Johnny’s characters that, despite the intense sexuality of their dance routines, they maintain a sibling-like platonic relationship. As Johnny goes to Penny’s aid, he mutters, “Penny just doesn’t think.” Despite this statement coming from a loved one, Johnny’s reaction mirrors a common sentiment that women should bear all the blame for an unintended pregnancy, that not getting pregnant is their responsibility alone. However, when he finds her, he tells her “I’m never gonna let anything happen to you,” showing that despite his angry outburst, he cares about her enough to give any assistance that he can.

Johnny offers the last of his salary to pay for Penny’s abortion. Notably, the option for keeping the baby or giving it up for adoption is never discussed. There are several reasons for this. First and most obviously, Penny cannot continue the strenuous dancing routines if she is pregnant. She would lose her sole source of income, and would have nothing to pay for care for herself or the baby. Second, if news of her pregnancy gets out, she would be instantly fired, and would lose the important reference that working at the resort gains her. Third, the father is Robbie Gould (Max Cantor), a young waiter who is currently courting Baby’s sister Lisa (Jane Brucker). Although extremely wealthy and handsome, Robbie is manipulative and selfish. When Baby confronts him and asks for money to pay for the abortion, he denies paternity and implies that Penny is promiscuous, which is another example of the condemnation of class distinctions in the film. Penny explains that she believed that Robbie loved her, and that she was “something special.” A woman who has no family, no real career prospects and is constantly belittled by her employers can quite believably become seduced by someone like Robbie. The film thus makes an important point about culpability – the poor, lonely and insecure Penny must bear all the blame and responsibility for the pregnancy, while the fortunate Robbie gets off scott-free.

Patrick Swayze and Cynthia Rhodes

Another important analysis of class distinction occurs in the film when the financial consequences of a back-alley abortion are discussed. Not only can neither Penny, Johnny nor Billy afford to pay for the abortion, Penny can’t take the day off to visit the abortionist. The abortionist is only in the area on one particular day, but Penny and Johnny are scheduled to perform at another hotel. There is no one who can take her place. Baby, established as a bit of an altruist, not only gets the money from her wealthy doctor father, but volunteers to learn Penny’s routine so she can get the procedure done. All three resort employees are shocked and guilty about accepting Baby’s kindness, as they are used to wealthy people exploiting them and treating them as sub-human. The romance plot is kicked off as Baby rehearses the routine with Johnny.

Unfortunately, the most frightening hazard of illegal abortion is that those who perform back-alley abortions are not certified doctors, and are under no regulations to use sterile equipment, anesthesia, or to perform the procedure safely. Outlawing abortion does not prevent abortions in any way – as we see in this film, if the woman is desperate enough, she will end the pregnancy regardless of the legal implications. Penny is thus locked in a room with an abortionist with a folding table and a “dirty knife.” Billy tries to come to her aid, but she is at the mercy of the abortionist and he must endure her screams of pain. Billy brings her home, and Penny refuses the help of a hospital as they would call the police. She is obviously dying, and is moaning in pain and clutching her abdomen. Baby goes to find her father, who is skilled enough to not only save Penny’s life, but also tells her that she can still have children. Her relief and joy at this news is an important aspect of her character, as it shows that this abortion was done because it was not the right time in her life to have a child, and that she had no choice in the matter. It is implied that someday, when Penny’s dancing career is over, she will have children when she is ready.

Penny in bed, following her abortion

Baby’s father, Dr. Houseman, seems to have conflicted morals, and serves a good example of someone who may not approve of abortion, but still shows compassion for women who require the procedure. He tells Baby that he doesn’t want her associating with “those people” (referring to Penny and Johnny) again, showing a protective streak and indirectly comparing the virginal and wealthy Baby to the poor “bad girl” Penny. However, when treating Penny’s condition, he speaks to her kindly, continues to make checkups on her despite his being on vacation, and happily converses with her at the finale. So despite his obvious disapproval of Penny’s choices, he sees her as a patient first, and makes her recovery his primary concern.

The purpose of legalized abortion is not only to give women like Penny a choice, but also to ensure their safety. It is very telling that class distinctions still exist (and are perhaps stronger than ever) in that wealthy lawmakers continue to blame perceived promiscuity for unintended pregnancies, and wish to force women to bear children as a punishment or consequence for their actions. If Penny had continued this pregnancy, she would have had absolutely no way to care for the child. She may have made a mistake in sleeping with Robbie, but why should she be “punished” and he not? Most importantly, keeping abortion legal and fully accessible saves the life of the mother. There are enough restrictions on abortion already – the doctors are only available on certain days in certain areas, some states require the woman to wait an extra 24 hours just to make sure they’re “certain” (Hint: They wouldn’t be there if they weren’t sure.), abortions are expensive, etc. Women like Penny should not have to risk their lives in order to ensure that they have control over their lives and their bodies. Before abortion was legalized in the US and Canada, women often died from the procedure. Women will get abortions whether or not they’re legal, because sometimes they have no other choice. I am sure I am preaching to the choir when I speak of the lessons I have learned from Penny’s story in Dirty Dancing, but part of me wonders if there would be more support for keeping abortion legal and accessible if lawmakers showed a little compassion, watched this film again, and thought about the real women whose lives mirror Penny’s.

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Myrna Waldron is a 25-year-old pop culture buff who loves to let off a good rant. She regularly tweets at @SoapboxingGeek, and is going to pretend the upcoming Dirty Dancing remake doesn’t exist.