Why the EACH Act Matters

In the United States, whether or not you can access abortion often comes down to one question: can you afford it? The Equal Access to Abortion Coverage in Health Insurance (EACH) Act aims to fix that. Introduced by Rep. Ayanna Pressley (D-MA-7) and Senator Tammy Duckworth (D-IL), the bill would end decades of federal restrictions that deny abortion coverage to people based on how they are insured, which disproportionately harms low-income communities and women of color.

Since 1976, the Hyde Amendment has barred federal funds from covering abortion except in limited cases of rape, incest, or life endangerment. Passed annually as part of congressional budget negotiations, Hyde has served as the foundation for a patchwork of federal abortion coverage bans that disproportionately affect people with low incomes.

These bans apply to millions of people who receive health insurance through the federal government, including Medicaid, Medicare, TRICARE, the Veterans Administration, the Federal Bureau of Prisons, and the Indian Health Service. As a result, those enrolled in public insurance programs are often forced to pay out of pocket for abortion care or carry an unwanted pregnancy to term.

The harm is not theoretical. More than 34 states follow Hyde restrictions in their Medicaid programs, denying coverage for abortion except under the narrowest exceptions. As a result, 55 percent of reproductive-age women on Medicaid live in states that deny abortion coverage beyond rape, incest, or life endangerment. Over half of these women are people of color.

Research from the Center for Reproductive Rights shows that abortion coverage bans force one in four low-income people seeking abortions to continue their pregnancies. Many are pushed deeper into poverty. Others are forced to delay care while trying to gather the money, often hundreds of dollars, they need to access a safe, legal procedure.

This is not a side effect. It is the point. In 1977, Rep. Henry Hyde, author of the amendment, openly said: “I certainly would like to prevent, if I could legally, anybody having an abortion, a rich woman, a middle-class woman, or a poor woman. Unfortunately, the only vehicle available is the Medicaid bill.”

The EACH Act offers a clear solution. It restores and protects abortion coverage for everyone, regardless of how they are insured.

The bill lifts federal restrictions on abortion coverage, guaranteeing that anyone who receives care or insurance through the federal government can access abortion services. It also prevents lawmakers from interfering with abortion coverage in private insurance plans, including those sold on the Affordable Care Act marketplaces. As All* Above All explains, this would help roll back harmful restrictions that currently exist in many states and return control to patients and providers.

The bill aligns with a growing call from reproductive health advocates to center equity in abortion access. As Power to Decide explains, the EACH Act protects people most affected by systemic racism, economic insecurity, and gaps in health care access, ensuring that abortion is a real option, not just a theoretical right. The Center for Reproductive Rights underscores that lifting coverage bans is essential to breaking cycles of financial distress and poor health outcomes that currently trap people denied reproductive choice.

At the same time, the EACH Act faces predictable political resistance. Opponents of repealing the Hyde Amendment have long argued that it protects taxpayers from funding abortion, a position that continues to influence both federal and state-level policymaking. The Hyde Amendment has been renewed annually since 1976, and despite growing support for its repeal, it remains what The Atlantic called “an unassailable fixture of American budget politics.” In early 2024, some members of Congress introduced legislation to make Hyde permanent, arguing that removing it would overstep federal authority and violate conscience protections. 

Abortion is health care, but without insurance coverage, that care becomes unaffordable and inaccessible for millions. The EACH Act recognizes that the right to an abortion means little if you cannot afford one. It could bring the country closer to a future where decisions about pregnancy are guided by personal values, not financial hardship or political interference.

When people are forced to carry pregnancies against their will because their insurance does not cover abortion, the consequences ripple through every part of their lives. Economic stability, mental and physical health, and family wellbeing all suffer. As the Center for Reproductive Rights makes clear, abortion coverage bans trap people in poverty and punish them for seeking care. Supporters argue that the EACH Act would help dismantle these barriers and protect the ability of individuals to make decisions that are right for them and their families.

Senator Duckworth described the bill as a step toward guaranteeing abortion coverage for millions of Americans. Power to Decide called it a critical piece of legislation to protect those who are most often pushed to the margins. And All* Above All frames it as central to the fight for abortion justice.

Passing the EACH Act will not undo every injustice in reproductive care, but abortion advocates say it will bring us closer to a future where your zip code, your paycheck, and your insurance card do not determine your access to abortion.

UVA President Jim Ryan’s Resignation and the Cost to Academic Freedom

On June 27, University of Virginia President Jim Ryan resigned under direct political pressure. One president’s resignation might sound like local drama, but it reveals a dangerous shift that should have all of us paying closer attention.

Jim Ryan announced his resignation on June 27 after sustained pressure from members of the Virginia Board of Visitors, many of whom were appointed by state leadership in recent years. Reports from Politico and Inside Higher Ed confirm that Ryan faced mounting demands from the Virginia Board of Visitors, many of whom pushed him to abandon diversity and inclusion programs and align the university with newly imposed ideological priorities, creating a standoff that left his presidency untenable.

In his statement, Ryan said he could no longer lead effectively under these conditions. His exit reflects more than a leadership shake-up; it marks a moment where external political influence overtook a university’s independence. This is a direct threat to academic freedom.

It is also deeply hypocritical. For years, some political actors have claimed that DEI initiatives, critical race theory, feminism, LGBTQ studies, and transparent history lessons are just ways for vehicles for political indoctrination. But efforts to strip away these same programs reveal an equally ideological agenda, one that seeks to silence students and suppress the stories some would rather not have told.

Programs like Title IX protections, gender studies, and inclusive curricula have given women, people of color, and LGBTQ students some measure of visibility and safety in institutions that have historically ignored them. These efforts help students understand how the past shapes the world they live in now. Yet across the country, these programs are under attack, with political actors banning books, rewriting curriculum, and forcing one narrow worldview on every classroom.

This is not a fight against indoctrination. This is indoctrination. And it threatens decades of social progress, hard-won protections, and the freedom to learn without fear.

What happened at UVA is not an isolated event. It’s part of a broader strategy playing out across schools and universities nationwide. From boardrooms to classrooms to libraries, institutions of learning are being reshaped in ways that stifle open debate and discourage critical thinking. Staying silent in the face of these changes risks accepting censorship and control as the new norm.

Recent headlines show that the same pressure that forced Ryan out of UVA is now targeting other prominent institutions, including Harvard, where a standoff with the current administration has become national news. It does not stop there. Reports confirm sixty more universities are under investigation, all accused of so-called bias or diversity “overreach.” 

This is not just a question of education policy. It’s a question of democracy. The freedom to learn, to question, and to explore diverse ideas is essential to any free society. Once that freedom is lost, it’s difficult to win back.

Paying attention is just the first step. We must speak up for inclusive education, protect academic independence, and ensure that all students have the freedom to learn and thrive. The future of our classrooms, and our democracy, depends on it.

What’s at Stake for Families as Education Funds Remain Frozen

Across the United States, families are braced for a loss they never expected. For years, after-school and summer programs had given kids a safe place to go when the final bell rang or when school let out for the summer, a lifeline for hard working Americans juggling multiple jobs just to keep food on the table.

When the federal government froze nearly seven billion dollars in federal education funding on July 1, families were left scrambling for backup plans that simply did not exist. There was no YMCA, no community center, nowhere else to turn.

What happens when these programs disappear? For millions of students and working parents across the country, this freeze means less help for families already stretched thin, and kids’ futures left hanging in the balance. While some may frame this as necessary belt-tightening, these dollars support real people and real needs every day.

The nearly seven billion dollars frozen is foundational to so many of the programs teachers and families rely on every day. They stand as cornerstones in their communities and support programs like after-school care, summer camps, extra help for students learning English, and training for teachers who keep classrooms strong.

This freeze did not hit just one town or city. A national map shows how states across the Midwest, South, and rural West are among the hardest hit, where many families already rely heavily on federal support to keep after-school and summer programs alive. But while some states feel the impact more deeply, every state is affected in some way when this level of funding disappears.

After-school and summer programs hold more weight than many realize. About 1.4 million students count on these federal dollars each year, representing nearly one in five kids who attend after-school programs across the country. For these students, these programs mean they do not walk home alone to an empty house. They have trusted adults to help with homework, eat healthy snacks or meals, and spend afternoons learning, playing, and connecting with friends in a safe place instead of risking trouble or isolation and research shows these benefits last long after summer ends.

But students are not the only ones who feel the difference when these supports are strong. For working parents, these programs bring peace of mind that their children are cared for and safe while they finish long shifts or balance multiple jobs. Many families cannot afford private childcare or summer camps on their own, so losing federal help can mean losing the only reliable care they have. Demand for summer programs has grown, fueled by federal funding that helps keep costs down and doors open for families who need it most.

For teachers and schools, these programs build a bridge between classrooms and communities. They help students return ready to learn, with extra support and trusted adults reinforcing lessons and life skills that carry into the next school day. They also help keep quality teachers in schools by funding training and professional development that strengthens what happens in the classroom, especially for students with special needs or kids facing challenges at home.

Yet despite how vital these programs are, they remain vulnerable when politics shift priorities away from America’s families.

When billions of dollars meant to keep kids safe, parents working, and schools strong are frozen, it raises serious questions about how our nation supports its communities.

Some federal leaders have made no secret of their aim to strip down the Department of Education or even eliminate it altogether, as detailed in reporting at the time. While only Congress can formally close a federal agency, recent federal actions have reduced staffing and frozen funding for Department of Education programs.

These cuts and freezes do not happen in a vacuum. They are part of a larger push to weaken the support that helps families, teachers, and local communities, often hitting rural towns and lower-income states the hardest.

What does this mean for the seven billion dollars still locked away? If Congress agrees to rescind the funds permanently, the money could disappear for good. Even if the funding is eventually released, the freeze has already caused delays, leaving schools scrambling while they wait for answers.

For families and teachers, that uncertainty can be just as damaging. Without clear decisions, programs stay stuck in limbo and students lose time they cannot get back.

Promises to families mean little if billions of dollars approved for their communities can be locked away without explanation. Communities should not have to fight for support that has already been allocated.

Our kids deserve better. Community members can advocate for these vital programs by contacting their representatives, attending local school board meetings, and raising awareness about the impact of funding freezes on children and families. Together, we can ensure every child has a safe place to learn and grow, during the school year and beyond.

War’s Hidden Burden on Women

As tensions escalate in the Middle East, civilians across the region face devastating consequences. In early 2024, missile strikes, drone attacks, and proxy clashes reignited fears of a broader regional war, spilling across Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and even Iranian cities. Families in northern Israel once again crowd into bomb shelters, re-traumatized by memories of past conflicts. Civilians in Iran face not only the threat of airstrikes but also intensifying repression that silences dissent, even as the government’s abuses of women’s rights are sometimes cynically used to justify foreign military pressure. 

Yet beyond headlines about missiles and ultimatums lies a quieter catastrophe. In every conflict zone, women and children bear a unique burden. When men, often the main breadwinners, are lost to fighting, entire families lose their economic foundation. Women must find scarce work in shattered job markets, while prices for food, fuel, and medicine soar. In Iran, this loss is worsened by an economy battered by years of sanctions. Inflation has soared past 40 percent, driving up prices for essentials by as much as 50 percent. Women’s unemployment is double that of men, and far higher for young women. When men are lost to violence, women must provide for children with few options. Many sell possessions, pull kids from school, or rely on aid that often falls short.

Conflict also opens the door to gender-based violence. As seen in Sudan and Ukraine, forced displacement and lawlessness expose women and girls to abuse. In Gaza, Lebanon, and northern Israel, airstrikes and evacuations force thousands into temporary housing, where risks of exploitation rise and justice fades. The trauma of sexual violence leaves scars that last long after any ceasefire.

The trauma does not simply end when the guns fall silent. Conflict-linked PTSD can echo through generations, becoming part of a family’s inheritance which is a pattern painfully familiar from Afghanistan and now echoed in research by the UN. Even basic needs, like safe pregnancy care, become daily struggles under bombardment and sanctions. In Israel’s north, hospitals brace for birth complications as families shelter in place or flee.

These consequences rarely make front pages. Women and children are not at the negotiation tables or behind missile launch buttons, but they remain this conflict’s most enduring casualties. Their stories reveal the hidden cost of war and the urgent need for peace-building and aid that place women at the center.

Tensions have simmered for decades, but the past year brought an alarming escalation. Israel intensified airstrikes targeting Iranian supply lines and proxies such as Hezbollah in Syria and Lebanon. Iran stepped up missile and drone attacks on Israeli military and civilian sites. By mid-2025, strikes and counterstrikes have forced thousands back into shelters. In Gaza, Lebanon, and parts of Iran, civilians live under constant threat while struggling with failing infrastructure, blackouts, and shortages of food and medicine.

Inside Iran, the government’s repression of women’s rights movements continues, even as some Western actors cite those abuses to justify military action; an irony not lost on Iranian women facing threats from both bombs and crackdowns. Amnesty International warns that the unprecedented scale of attacks risks “a catastrophic impact on civilians who have nowhere safe to flee.” Amid this devastation, women in Iran, Israel, Gaza, and Lebanon keep families afloat when systems collapse. In Iran, women’s movements run underground networks to share food, find safe shelter, and document abuses. In Israeli towns and Lebanese villages, women organize shelters, donations, and counseling. Internationally, these same voices call for peace and for women to be included in negotiations which echo the aims of UN Security Council Resolution 1325. Yet too often, women’s rights become slogans for foreign policy while actual women’s voices are shut out.

Bombs and sanctions also disrupt the most basic aspects of family life: health and mental well-being. Hospitals struggle to stay open. Families sheltering from attacks worry if they can reach maternity wards. Sanctions worsen shortages of life-saving medicines and equipment. And trauma does not disappear with a truce. Studies show how untreated stress and fear echo through families for generations. Women carrying children under bombardment, raising them amid uncertainty, live with an invisible strain that shapes entire communities long after the headlines fade.

This conflict is described in terms of power and strategy, but the true cost is measured in the daily burdens women and children did not choose to carry. If the world is serious about peace, then their stories must move from the margins to the center. Aid must reach those holding families together. Negotiations must include those who know survival when talks stall. Only by listening to and investing in these voices can the region hope to break the cycles that make war an inheritance instead of a chapter that finally closes.

Title IX at 53: Celebrating a Legacy of Equality and Protecting Its Future

June 23, 2025 marks the 53rd anniversary of Title IX, the groundbreaking civil rights law that reshaped American education by prohibiting sex-based discrimination in any federally funded school or program. Enacted in 1972, Title IX opened doors to classrooms, athletics, and leadership opportunities for millions of women and girls, transforming what equality in education could mean. Before the law, many women were denied admission to colleges, limited in what they could study, and excluded from nearly all competitive sports. Since then, Title IX has helped pave the way for generational progress in education, sports, and civil rights. As Ms. magazine puts it, “Title IX is not just about sports, it is about power, equity, and access.”

Title IX has touched the lives of millions of students. It has helped young women play sports, apply to schools that once excluded them, and speak up when their rights were violated. For many, it quietly shaped what they believed was possible. Girls could picture themselves on a basketball court, in a science lab, or leading a student government, not because someone told them they could, but because the law helped remove the barriers that said they could not. Journalist and historian Sherry Boschert, who wrote a book about the law’s legacy called 37 Words, described it simply: “Title IX opened doors that had been closed to half the population.” That legacy is still unfolding. Each time a student feels seen, heard, and protected in their education, the spirit of Title IX is at work.

Title IX did not emerge overnight; it was the result of years of activism led by women who were systematically denied access to education and professional opportunities. Title IX was the culmination of a long campaign by second-wave feminists who had spent years documenting educational disparities and organizing for gender equity,” writes the Women’s Sports Foundation. Bernice Sandler, who had been denied a full-time university position for being “too strong for a woman,” became a pivotal figure by filing over 250 complaints against colleges and universities, prompting the first congressional hearings on sex discrimination in education. Working closely with Rep. Edith Green and Rep. Patsy Mink, Sandler helped lay the foundation for the legislation that would become Title IX. According to National Geographic, these women faced not only bureaucratic obstacles but also cultural resistance, as they navigated an overwhelmingly male political system to push forward an idea that was seen as radical at the time.

Although Title IX became law in 1972, its impact was far from immediate. Implementation was slow, met with confusion, and often outright resistance. Schools claimed the law was too vague or too disruptive to enforce. In athletics, critics argued that expanding opportunities for girls would unfairly take resources from boys’ sports. But advocates pushed back, demanding that the federal government issue clear guidelines and hold institutions accountable. It wasn’t until 1975 that the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare issued regulations to enforce Title IX, and even then, some schools dragged their feet. It took lawsuits, media attention, and sustained pressure from grassroots groups to compel change. Ms. magazine’s Triumphs of Title IX report documents how early Title IX activists used data, testimonies, and strategic lobbying to make the case that denying equal access to sports and education violated civil rights. Their work helped push Title IX from symbolic legislation into a transformative force for generations of students.

Over the past few years, the protections guaranteed by Title IX have been weakened by a series of federal rollbacks, starting with changes enacted under the Trump administration. In 2020, then-Education Secretary Betsy DeVos implemented sweeping revisions to Title IX that narrowed the definition of sexual harassment and forced schools to hold live disciplinary hearings, including cross-examinations between accused students and survivors, which is a policy widely criticized for re-traumatizing those who came forward with complaints. The regulations also limited the scope of cases schools were required to investigate, excluding incidents that occurred off campus or outside school programs. Women, particularly those at colleges with a history of underreporting or mishandling sexual assault, were left more vulnerable and often discouraged from seeking justice.

While the Biden administration introduced rules in 2024 to restore protections for survivors and explicitly extend Title IX to LGBTQ+ students, those efforts were abruptly blocked in January 2025, when a federal judge vacated the new rules nationwide. This decision removed clear federal guidance on how schools should respond to sexual harassment and discrimination, creating a patchwork of policies across states. LGBTQ+ students were left without basic civil rights protections, while female students again found themselves in environments where reporting harassment could lead to retraumatization, legal hurdles, or dismissal.

The future of Title IX rests in the hands of those who refuse to accept regression as inevitable. While its legal protections may be tested, its enduring power lies in the belief that education should offer fairness, safety, and opportunity to all. This belief has guided decades of advocacy, carried forward by those who challenged silence with testimony and inaction with organizing. Title IX remains a living commitment, and its strength depends on our willingness to uphold it.

Memorial Day Reflections: The Forgotten Legacy and Future of Women in the Military

This Memorial Day, like so many others, was filled with quiet moments of reflection, flags waving, wreaths laid, heads bowed in remembrance. But too often, when we honor those who have served and sacrificed, we forget about the women who were there as well. Women have been part of the U.S. military for more than 200 years. They have driven convoys through war zones, served as medics under fire, flown combat missions, and led troops into battle. They have always been there. And now, the right for women to serve in those roles is in danger of being taken away.

In 2015, women were finally allowed to serve in all military combat positions. That decision came after years of pushback, advocacy, and effort from both inside and outside the military. It was a big moment, not just because it opened doors, but because it affirmed something women in uniform have always known: they belong. They are just as capable, just as committed, and just as brave.

But that progress is at risk. Donald Trump has already named Pete Hegseth as his pick for Secretary of Defense. Hegseth has long opposed the idea of women in combat. He has publicly argued that including women weakens the military and that these changes were just political correctness. This is a reflection of a larger pattern of trying to roll back the rights of women, especially when it comes to public service, leadership, and representation. Hegseth’s views are outdated and dangerous. They send a message to every woman serving right now that her contributions do not matter. That her sacrifice is somehow less. That no matter how hard she trains or how well she leads, she will never be seen as fully equal.

And the truth is, women in the military already face more than their fair share of challenges. According to Brookings, although women make up 17 percent of the active-duty force, they are concentrated in lower ranks and underrepresented in combat arms, the very roles that lead to top leadership positions. Structural bias is baked into a system that still treats men as the default soldier. Women are more likely to report feeling isolated, excluded from informal mentoring networks, disrespected by peers and superiors, and far too often experience sexual harassment or assault. These are outcomes of a culture and structure that was not built with women in mind.

For women of color, LGBTQ+ service members, and others at the intersections of identity, those obstacles are even steeper. Racism, sexism, and homophobia often compound and go unaddressed. Transgender service members have faced outright bans and policy whiplash, putting their service and safety in constant question. The military has never been an easy place for women, but it is made even harder when the top brass or elected leaders try to turn back the clock.

We cannot go back to a time when women had to fight just to be allowed to fight. Women served in World War II as pilots, codebreakers, and nurses. They served in Vietnam and the Gulf War, often without recognition. Today, they are fighter pilots, intelligence analysts, infantry officers, and everything in between. Their stories deserve to be told—not to glorify war, but to affirm that women have always participated in shaping history, even within systems that have often failed to value them.

As Lt. Gen. Lori Reynolds once said, “The issue is not whether women can serve. It’s whether we’re willing to recognize their service as equal and essential.” That recognition must include standing up against those who would strip away their right to serve in combat, a right that was earned, not given.

This Memorial Day, we remember all who served. But remembering is not enough. We have to speak up. We have to challenge the decisions and the leaders who want to take us backward. And we have to keep telling the truth: women in the military are not a distraction, a liability, or a political statement. They are service members whose roles deserve recognition, even within a deeply flawed institution.

Proposed Bill Would Lower Iraq’s Age of Consent to 9 Years Old

The Iraqi parliament is facing mounting pressure from civil society, women’s rights groups, and activists as it considers amendments to the Personal Status Law that could drastically affect the rights and well-being of women and girls in Iraq. If passed, these amendments would lower the legal marriage age from 18 to as young as nine years old for girls and boys, paving the way for widespread child marriages and eroding decades of progress in protecting women’s rights.

The current Personal Status Law, established in the 1950s, prohibits marriage under the age of 18. However, a loophole allows religious leaders to officiate marriages of girls as young as 15 with their father’s consent. A 2023 UNICEF survey found that 28% of Iraqi girls marry before the age of 18, highlighting the problems that child marriage even under the current legal framework. Under the proposed amendments, this situation would worsen as the age of consent could be lowered overall. Sarah Sanbar, a researcher with Human Rights Watch, warned that the amendments would allow marriages to be officiated under either the personal status law or specific Islamic schools of jurisprudence, further undermining women’s rights.

The proposed law has been opposed by women in parliament as well as many activist groups. Protests have erupted in Baghdad and other cities, with citizens voicing their opposition to the amendments. However, these protests have been met with violent clashes with law enforcement, reflecting the contentious nature of the debate. Many women members of parliament and activist groups have also spoken out against the amendments, emphasizing the devastating consequences they would have on Iraq’s women and girls.

Razaw Salihy, Amnesty International’s Iraq researcher, highlighted the dangers of child marriage, explaining that it deprives young girls of their education, increases their vulnerability to sexual and physical abuse, and subjects them to significant health risks associated with early pregnancy. One Iraqi mother also expressed her fears, stating: “My husband and my family oppose child marriage. But imagine if my daughter gets married and my daughter’s husband wants to marry off my granddaughter as a child. The new law would allow him to do so. I would not be allowed to object. This law legalizes child rape.” Despite these dire consequences, the amendments are being pushed forward at a time when urgent legal reforms are needed to address the systemic violence and discrimination that women and girls face in Iraq.

The amendments would not only lower the age of marriage but also open the door to legalizing unregistered marriages, often used to circumvent existing child marriage laws. They would remove penalties for adult men who engage in such marriages and for clerics who officiate them. Critical protections for divorced women, such as the right to remain in the marital home or receive financial support, would also be eliminated.

Salihy urged Iraqi lawmakers to focus on addressing pressing issues in the Penal Code, such as the acceptance of “honour” as a mitigating factor for the killing of women and girls and the failure to criminalize marital rape. She stated: “Iraq’s parliament must reject these harmful proposed amendments and instead focus their efforts on addressing woeful shortcomings in the Penal Code, which permits ‘honour’ as a mitigating factor for the killings of women and girls and allows for the corporal punishment of the wife and children by the husband, as well as failing to criminalize marital rape.”

The proposed amendments, if passed, would effectively grant religious councils of Sunni and Shia sects the authority to develop their own codes of Sharia rulings on personal status matters. This move would further threaten women’s and girls’ equality under the law and entrench discriminatory practices.

For decades, Iraq’s Personal Status Law has been a cornerstone of legal protections for women and girls, applying to all Iraqis irrespective of religion. These proposed amendments represent a significant step backward, undermining the progress that has been made and threatening the rights and dignity of half of Iraq’s population. The international community must join Iraqi activists in calling for the rejection of these amendments and the prioritization of reforms that protect and empower women and girls in Iraq.

Expanding Birth Control Access as the New Front in Reproductive Freedom

Photo by Reproductive Health Supplies Coalition

The Biden-Harris administration’s proposed rule to expand access to affordable contraception under the Affordable Care Act (ACA) is a timely and essential move, especially in the current political landscape where reproductive rights have been systematically eroded. This proposal would provide over-the-counter birth control without any cost sharing for women with private insurance, removing significant financial barriers to contraception for millions of women. This would include FDA-approved options such as Opill, the morning-after pill, and other methods like IUDs and condoms. Jennifer Klein, White House Gender Policy Council Director, emphasized that this move could have a transformative impact, ensuring more women can access contraception without cost-sharing. 

This initiative couldn’t be more urgent. In the wake of the Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization—which overturned the nearly 50-year precedent set by Roe v. Wade—the landscape of reproductive healthcare has shifted dramatically. With abortion access now either severely restricted or outright banned in many states, the need for accessible birth control has become a frontline issue. Women who have lost access to safe and legal abortion options are left with limited reproductive choices, making contraception not just a health service but a critical tool of autonomy and control over one’s future. Department of Health and Human Services Secretary Xavier Becerra emphasizes this by saying, “Now more than ever, access to and coverage of birth control is critical as the Biden-Harris administration works to help ensure women everywhere can get the contraception they need when they need it”​

The proposed rule would not only strengthen access to prescribed contraceptives but also tackle the loopholes created by religious and moral exemptions that have allowed some employers and institutions to deny birth control coverage. These exemptions have been a contentious issue since 2018, when regulations allowed private health plans to exclude coverage for contraceptive services based on moral or religious objections​. Under this new rule, women and dependents enrolled in plans with such exemptions will be able to access contraception directly from willing providers without additional cost, ensuring that their employer’s religious beliefs don’t determine their reproductive choices​.

This policy comes at a time when contraception is more than just a personal health decision—it’s a matter of economic and social justice. Nearly 90% of women of reproductive age have used contraception at some point in their lives, and access to reliable birth control is closely tied to women’s ability to pursue higher education, maintain steady employment, and plan their families responsibly​. The ability to control if and when to have children is not just a matter of health; it’s a fundamental right that impacts every facet of a woman’s life. As Alexis McGill Johnson, president and CEO of Planned Parenthood, aptly put it, “Access to birth control is critical to reproductive freedom. It gives people the reins to decide their futures.”​

However, while this proposal is a positive step, it doesn’t go far enough. The fact that this expanded coverage applies only to those with private insurance leaves millions of women—especially those from low-income backgrounds—still vulnerable. Contraception should not be a luxury afforded only to those employed or enrolled in a university health plan. It should be available, free of charge, to every woman in America, regardless of income, employment status, or geography. Access to birth control shouldn’t depend on a person’s ability to navigate complex insurance systems or rely on an employer’s benevolence.

In addition, this rule still retains religious exemptions for employers, which means that women who work for religious institutions or employers who claim moral objections may still face hurdles. Although the proposal seeks to create independent pathways for these women to access contraception, the process could still impose unnecessary burdens, delaying access to timely contraceptive care​. In a country that prides itself on freedom, we should be moving toward a system where reproductive health care is universal, not subject to the whims of individual employers or religious doctrine.

This proposal doesn’t address the needs of women without health insurance. While expanding access to no-cost birth control under the ACA is commendable, those without insurance remain sidelined. The U.S. should be aiming for universal access to contraception—comprehensive coverage that includes everyone, regardless of their insurance status. For a society to truly respect reproductive freedom, it must ensure that contraception is affordable and accessible to all, not just the privileged few.

The Supreme Court’s decision in Dobbs has created a reproductive health crisis in the United States. As state legislatures continue to attack abortion access, the federal government must counterbalance these efforts by protecting and expanding access to contraception. The Biden-Harris administration’s proposal is a necessary first step, but it’s only that—a first step. True reproductive justice will only be achieved when contraception is universally accessible, free from bureaucratic obstacles and moralistic exclusions. Women deserve nothing less.

Natural Disasters Aren’t Gender Neutral – Hurricanes Milton and Helene Prove It

Photo by NASA

Natural disasters don’t just ravage landscapes—they also expose and deepen systemic inequalities. Recent hurricanes, Milton and Helene, tore through Florida, Georgia, and the Carolinas, destroying homes, businesses, and the lives built across generations. While governments rush to repair infrastructure and restore housing, they often overlook the people most impacted in the long term—especially women, low-income mothers, and their children. These groups bear the storm’s weight long after it has passed.

The truth is that the temporary solutions offered by governments and international organizations might patch immediate wounds, but they don’t heal the deeper, systemic problems that exacerbate women’s suffering. Disasters shine a spotlight on pre-existing inequalities, and for women, the picture is often bleak.

Hurricanes Milton and Helene are no exceptions to this trend. Disasters like these reveal systemic vulnerabilities, with women, particularly low-income mothers, suffering disproportionately. Despite the urgency of restoring physical structures, disaster response frameworks rarely address the unique needs of women. Until aid distribution and disaster response incorporate gender-sensitive policies, this cycle of inequality will persist. It’s essential for relief efforts to include hygiene products, prenatal care, and safety measures that protect against gender-based violence.

In the aftermath of disasters, risks of gender-based violence often surge. Shelters become overcrowded, social services strain under demand, and women are left more vulnerable to abuse and exploitation. This pattern is alarmingly common: After Hurricane Katrina, domestic violence reports nearly doubled, a trend that was mirrored in the wake of Helene. The 2012 report “The Hidden Disaster” found that domestic violence incidents rose by 53 percent after New Zealand’s Canterbury earthquake, while physical victimization rates of women nearly doubled after Hurricane Katrina. From earthquakes in New Zealand to bushfires in Australia, women across the globe face heightened risks during and after climate-related disasters.

The needs go beyond housing. In the chaotic scramble of disaster recovery, shelters are seldom equipped to support those most in need, such as mothers with young children. Essentials like hygiene products, breastfeeding areas, and prenatal care are frequently overlooked, adding to the psychological and physical burdens these women bear.

As the 2012 report underscores, “Without long-term investments in affordable housing and community resilience, these vulnerable groups will continue to suffer disproportionately in future disasters.” Addressing this requires a radical rethinking of disaster preparedness and recovery. It’s time we acknowledged that women experience disasters differently than men. The path forward starts by prioritizing these differences to foster a more equitable recovery for all.

In addition to these downplayed issues, climate change has intensified the severity and frequency of natural disasters, and the gendered impacts are only becoming more pronounced. Climate change exacerbates existing inequalities, with women bearing the heaviest burden. From floods to hurricanes, women are often on the front lines of caregiving, resource gathering, and community rebuilding all while being more vulnerable to displacement, food scarcity, and violence. As climate change worsens, so too will these gendered impacts.

Decisive action to curb climate change and create gender-sensitive disaster response systems is crucial. Building climate resilience must go hand-in-hand with gender justice. Governments need to integrate women’s voices into climate change policies, ensuring that recovery efforts are not only reactive but also preemptive, equitable, and sustainable.

Let’s be clear: the fight for gender equality doesn’t end when the winds die down. Hurricanes Milton and Helene exposed the cracks in our disaster response systems—cracks that women and their children are falling through. This isn’t just about surviving the storm; it’s about dismantling the systemic inequalities that guarantee women will be left behind in every disaster. It’s about building a world where their needs are finally seen, heard, and addressed. And as the impacts of climate change continue to unfold, addressing the gendered dimensions of disaster response isn’t optional—it’s essential.

The Deadly Cost of Racial Bias: Addressing the Disparities in Black Maternal Healthcare

Photo by Mustafa Omar

The disparities in medical treatment for women of color, particularly Black women, starkly reflect the deep-rooted racial inequities in the U.S. healthcare system. These disparities are evident in higher rates of C-sections, elevated maternal mortality rates, and a lack of adequate pain management compared to white women, even when receiving care from the same doctors under similar conditions. Black women experience maternal mortality rates two to three times higher than their white counterparts, a statistic that should alarm a country that prides itself on advanced medical care. Despite this being a known issue, efforts to address them remain insufficient.

One of the most glaring examples of this disparity is in labor and delivery care, where Black women are subjected to C-sections at higher rates than white women, often without thorough consideration of alternative options. C-sections are a common surgical procedure used to deliver babies when vaginal delivery poses risks. While they can be life-saving, the frequency with which they are performed on Black women highlights a significant issue in maternal healthcare. Black women are 20% more likely than white women to undergo C-sections, often in non-emergency situations driven by subjective diagnoses like fetal distress. This leads to longer recovery times, higher risks of complications, and greater financial strain. 

Disturbingly, studies suggest that unnecessary C-sections for Black women are more likely to occur when operating rooms are empty, pointing to factors beyond medical necessity. One study found that 8% of healthy Black women had C-sections compared to 4.8% of healthy white women when there was no urgent medical reason. This suggests that decisions to perform surgery may be influenced by convenience or implicit racial bias, rather than patient health.

C-sections carry greater risks than vaginal births, including longer recovery times, higher infection rates, and greater difficulty with breastfeeding. These risks exacerbate the vulnerabilities that Black women already face, given their higher maternal mortality rates. The extended recovery required after a C-section can lead to longer hospital stays and increased chances of postpartum complications. The issue of fetal distress, a common justification for C-sections, is often subjective, and Black women are more likely to be diagnosed with it than their white counterparts. This suggests doctors may unconsciously apply different standards when diagnosing Black women, reinforcing disparities in care.

Frequent C-sections among Black women also have long-term implications for their reproductive health. Women who undergo the procedure face higher risks in subsequent pregnancies, including uterine rupture, abnormal placental development, and the need for repeat C-sections. This cycle of unnecessary surgeries creates enduring health risks for women of color, perpetuating maternal care inequities long after the initial procedure.

Financially, C-sections are also more burdensome than vaginal deliveries. On average, private insurance in the U.S. covers $17,000 for a C-section, compared to $11,500 for a vaginal birth. For low-income women of color, this financial strain can be devastating, particularly when paired with the extended recovery and higher risk of postpartum complications.

This disparity is not due to differences in the medical needs of Black and white women, but rather the systemic racism that pervades healthcare. The fact that these disparities emerge in non-emergency situations highlights the influence of implicit and structural biases, rather than purely health-related concerns. For instance, doctors may have a lower threshold for surgical intervention when treating Black women, driven by preconceptions about poorer birth outcomes. While the intention may be to “prevent harm,” these interventions often lead to more complications, longer hospital stays, and reduced breastfeeding success.

The recent overturning of Roe v. Wade compounds these disparities, placing yet another barrier between women of color and reproductive healthcare. With restricted access to abortion, existing health inequities are likely to worsen, disproportionately impacting Black and Indigenous women who already face immense challenges in accessing care.

Addressing these disparities requires not only reforms in how care is administered but also a reckoning with the deep-seated racism embedded in the medical field. Clinicians must be equipped with the tools to recognize implicit biases and understand how structural racism affects their decision-making. Some states, like California, have begun mandating implicit bias training for healthcare providers, but much more remains to be done.

The U.S. is the only industrialized nation where Black maternal health is getting worse. Dismantling the legacy of racism in maternal healthcare requires structural changes that ensure women of color receive the equitable, high-quality care they deserve. This means not only improving medical education but also enacting policy reforms to address the economic, social, and healthcare barriers these women face. Failure to act will only deepen the health crisis for Black mothers, perpetuating a cycle of inequity that must be broken. The U.S. healthcare system has failed Black women for far too long.

30 Years of Progress: The Evolution and Impact of the Violence Against Women Act

Photo by U.S. Department of the Interior

On September 13th, 1994, thirty years ago, the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) was signed into law. The monumental act has been a lifeline for women across the country, making history as one of the most influential pieces of legislation for women’s rights ever to be passed. Enacted and upheld for the last three decades, this law covers survivors of domestic and dating violence, sexual assault, and stalking. VAWA protects survivors, regardless of their sex, gender identity, or sexual orientation and regardless of the sex, gender identity, or sexual orientation of the person who has caused harm. 

The need for this legislation came from the gross failures of the legal and healthcare systems to take women’s claims of gender-based violence seriously. Before this enactment, women faced a system that routinely ignored or brutalized rape victims, prioritizing other emergencies over their trauma. Prosecutors often demanded that survivors prove they fought back, and defense attorneys used their past sexual history to discredit them. A variety of grassroots activists and many survivors of domestic assault, some who even became leaders in this movement, used their voices to fight for change to these injustices. 

In 1993, former Senator and now President Joe Biden introduced the first Violence Against Women Act (VAWA), which came about after a three-year investigation into the pervasive issue of violence against women. While Biden championed the legislation, much of the heavy lifting behind the bill was done by his legal counsel, Victoria Nourse, who played a pivotal role in drafting the bill’s language and ensuring its comprehensive approach to addressing domestic violence, sexual assault, and stalking. Nourse, a highly respected legal scholar and professor, has since built a reputation as an expert in constitutional law, criminal law, and legislation. 

Along with Nourse’s efforts, Ellie Smeal and the Feminist Majority Foundation also played a major part in the act’s drafting. “I attended every meeting I could go to to support the bill. Biden had a team of only women drafting it,” said Smeal. These measures were revolutionary at the time and have since provided vital protections to millions of women nationwide. With bipartisan support, the bill was eventually passed as part of the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994 and signed into law by then-President Bill Clinton. 

Since then, the VAWA has emerged as a critical response to injustices and has continued to be a safeguard. The legislation has been reauthorized in 2000, 2005, 2013, and most recently in 2022. The fifth reauthorization of the VAWA, which was supported and signed into law by President Joe Biden, continues to build on this legacy by not only reauthorizing critical grant programs until 2027 but also expanding the law to address emerging and pressing issues. It reflects a deeper understanding of the intersections of violence, power, and inequality, particularly focusing on marginalized communities such as LGBTQ+ individuals and survivors in rural areas, who are often underserved. 

The law’s extension of Tribal court jurisdiction over non-Native offenders on Tribal land is a particularly important measure, recognizing the sovereignty of Indigenous communities and the unique challenges they face. This reauthorization also takes bold steps in addressing the digital age’s complexities, introducing a federal civil cause of action for those whose intimate images are distributed without consent. The updates to programs like the SMART Prevention Program and the CHOOSE Youth Program further emphasize the importance of early intervention and comprehensive support for those affected by domestic and dating violence, underscoring that prevention is as critical as the response. Finally, the law’s connection to firearm safety through the NICS Denial Notification Act adds another layer of protection, recognizing the lethal intersection of guns and domestic violence. 

While it has undoubtedly made strides in providing safety and justice, VAWA’s continual need for reauthorization and expansion reminds us that the fight against violence is far from over. As new threats emerge—whether through technology, changing social dynamics, or gaps in existing protections—VAWA must adapt to address these challenges. The expansion of protections for underserved communities, the inclusion of cybercrimes, and the enhancement of trauma-informed practices all point to how our understanding of violence, especially against women, is broadening. Advocating for protections for women, like the Biden-Harris administration, which has done so much to keep up with these forever-evolving injustices, is what gives hope to women across the country that they are not alone in this ongoing fight for their rights and safety.

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