It's impossible for me to be an education blogger here in Texas and to not post on Senate Bill 8, the state’s anti-abortion law.

My women friends from throughout the country call me in disbelief, wondering how in the heck we got to this place in Texas. It's agonizing and horrific the cruelty we see masquerading as deliberative policy when it's not. Shame on the U.S. Supreme Court for their silence on this issue when they had a chance to do something. Shame on our governor and on Texas legislators for being complicit in this attack on women.

I am glad to see that Attorney General Merrick Garland with the U.S. Department of Justice will explore all options to challenge Texas' SB 8. This op-ed by Sharon Grigsby sheds excellent light on just how extreme our state's republican party is.  Key quotes:

This law isn’t about protecting either vulnerable women or unborn babies. It’s about protecting politicians who are scared of getting out-righted in the next primary.

In pursuit of staying in power, Republican leaders have deputized Texans to do their dirty work — and shield them from complicity. 

What troubles me most about the ruling party of Texas — and the voters who keep them in power — is their adherence to being pro-birth but not so much pro-life.

Several of us in the community met this evening. Everyone's pretty stressed with the extremism that's taken ahold of our state. Our work and advocacy are not for the faint in heart. 

-Angela Valenzuela

My early-pregnancy miscarriages changed my views on abortion. But then came Texas’ SB 8

Trying to outlaw abortion at six weeks by asking citizens to spy on their neighbors is just a bridge too far.

Thousands of protesters gathered outside the Texas Capitol in Austin in May to show their concern about restrictive abortion legislation that was headed to Gov. Greg Abbott's office. The law, which bans almost all abortions in the state, went into effect Sept. 1.(Sergio Flores / TNS)

By Sharon Grigsby 12:06 PM on Sep 7, 2021

In six pregnancies, in my late 20s and early 30s, I lay on the OB-GYN’s examining table as his ultrasound machine looked for cardiac activity in my womb.

Each time, the first-trimester images showed the beginning of a new life growing inside me.

As much as I wanted to dance with delight, I mostly felt fear over what the next doctor’s appointment might reveal.

Complications developed in four of my pregnancies and follow-up sonograms showed a picture that even my untrained eye couldn’t mistake:

The embryo’s development had stopped. The cardiac activity had ceased.

Each of those losses left me wanting to die.Today I am the lucky mother of two sons, the first one born after three miscarriages and the second born after a fourth.

But my grief over those tiny creatures that didn’t make it out of the first trimester left me knowing that — despite wanting only two children — I would have a hard time choosing abortion if I ever became pregnant again.

After a lifetime of being ardently pro-choice and considering abortion as a comforting safety valve — albeit a decision that I somehow escaped having to confront — I was a lot less sure of what I believed.

So it was with a lot of conflicting emotions that I came to the Texas Legislature’s attempt to end abortion. I suspect a lot of you feel the same, even as you avoid speaking up in the din of voices who are Just So Sure.

A sign at the Whole Woman’s Health Clinic in Fort Worth last Wednesday, the day that Senate Bill 8 went into effect in Texas.(Elias Valverde II / Staff Photographer)

For a variety of reasons — as frequently social and political as religious — abortion is far more polarizing today than it was even at the time Roe was enacted.

I honestly think there is little room for persuasion given the deeply emotional associations now in play.

For anti-abortion forces, this issue is about children — helpless babies, just like their own babies or the children they love.

For the choice side, it represents the fragile autonomy women have fought so long to achieve from the edict that, because of biology, we are not entitled to the same rights and privacy as men.

Bottom line: The issue is about two different things with two different constituencies and two battle cries — “women’s body, women’s choice” and “it’s a baby, don’t kill it.”

That’s the reflexively righteous society we live in, one without room for nuance. No one has the patience to ask questions. No one reads something to have his or her mind changed.

There are as many opinions about the central question of abortion — at what point does life begin — as there are variables in every pregnancy. No issue is more in need of thoughtful discussion — not least of all because it involves a one-of-a-kind situation, a body housing what will eventually become another body.

Instead, we have Texas lawmakers and leaders throwing gas on the fire and building a flaming pile of damaging precedents that are going to backfire on all of us.

I believe a mother’s rights decrease with a baby’s development, but outlawing abortion at six weeks — and no exceptions for rape or incest — moves the line way too far back. It leaves women having to decide something they don’t even know they need to decide.

It’s also a legal trick that evades judicial review by design, a tactic that even for those of us inhabiting that squishy middle is clearly wrong.

Women in Texas have been battling the erosion of abortion rights for almost two decades. This 2015 rally by students and abortion rights activists on the steps of the Texas Capitol in Austin protested previous restrictions put in place by the state Legislature.(Eric Gay / AP)

This law isn’t about protecting either vulnerable women or unborn babies. It’s about protecting politicians who are scared of getting out-righted in the next primary.

In pursuit of staying in power, Republican leaders have deputized Texans to do their dirty work — and shield them from complicity.

By encouraging busybodies to go after people who “aid and abet” abortions, those in charge threaten to turn Texas into a modern-day East Germany, where the Stasi bribed citizens to inform on their neighbors.

A day is coming when Roe v. Wade will be argued out in the huge and very public forum that the Supreme Court allows.

What Texas has done in the meantime — scaring people into compliance with its legal trickery and spies-and-snitches mechanism — is an ill-advised detour.

It also has pushed me — and who knows how many others — out of the murky middle in this consequential debate. All of us, no matter our views on abortion, need to think hard about the means to which we are willing to resort to achieve an end.

What troubles me most about the ruling party of Texas — and the voters who keep them in power — is their adherence to being pro-birth but not so much pro-life.

The most recent national Kids Count report, from the Annie E. Casey Foundation, ranked Texas as the fifth-worst state in the nation for children.

Our state has consistently ranked in the bottom half of the U.S. for the past decade in nearly every indicator for children’s well-being, including health coverage, foster care, education and economic equity.

What about the safety net for all the women now forced to carry their babies to full term and the most vulnerable of all — unwanted children?

For now, doctors are left unsure about their relationships with patients — what can they safely say when discussing options and how can they know they aren’t talking to a wanna-be bounty hunter hoping to claim a $10,000 “reward”?

What’s the risk for the friend from whom a pregnant woman sought advice? The school counselor, the religious leader, the Uber driver, even the phone company that provided the line used to set up an appointment?

A billboard put up in 2018 by the Dallas-based Afiya Center proclaimed "abortion is self-care" and included the hashtag #TrustBlackWomen. This billboard was in response to another one, from the Black Pro Life Coalition, that proclaimed "abortion is not healthcare."(Irwin Thompson / Staff Photographer)

For women facing complicated pregnancies or tests that show their child can’t survive outside the womb, this new law makes a difficult situation untenable.

What of the hospital committees that have traditionally supported a mother’s wishes and approved medical terminations after ultrasounds reveal complications certain to end in a stillbirth or death hours after a baby is delivered?

Wrestling with an abortion is a terrible lot with all sorts of circumstances that make each decision different.

For people like me, who believed that some of the restrictions placed on abortion in the past two decades were reasonable, Senate Bill 8 is a call to action. It’s a reminder that my own internal conflict — which results in not taking a stand — is complicit in allowing these laws to take effect.

We have to trust each individual woman to make the decision that’s best for her. Not the government and not random individuals, especially vigilantes.

Equity vs. Equality and Other Racial Justice Definitions 8.24.2020, BY THE ANNIE E. CASEY FOUNDATION

When we use concepts like "equity" and "equality," it's important to have a shared language. Thanks to the Annie E. Casey Foundation for addressing this.

-Angela Valenzuela

Equity vs. Equality and Other Racial Justice Definitions

POSTED AUGUST 24, 2020, BY THE ANNIE E. CASEY FOUNDATION

Often, race-focused conversations derail because people are using the same terms in different ways. One of the challenges of communicating effectively about race is to move people from the narrow and individualized definition of racism to a more comprehensive and systemic awareness.

To illuminate racism, we need to “name it, frame it and explain it.”

Establishing a shared language to present data, describe conditions and outcomes and identify root causes of inequities serves an important function. A common language creates a narrative that makes it easier to communicate the commitment to racial equity, both internally and externally, and it creates a platform for coordinated work toward equitable outcomes.

The following are definitions of core concepts that can help groups develop a shared language for racial equity and inclusion:

Definitions and core concepts

Equity

Equity is defined as “the state, quality or ideal of being just, impartial and fair.” The concept of equity is synonymous with fairness and justice. It is helpful to think of equity as not simply a desired state of affairs or a lofty value. To be achieved and sustained, equity needs to be thought of as a structural and systemic concept.

Equity vs. Equality

Equity involves trying to understand and give people what they need to enjoy full, healthy lives. Equality, in contrast, aims to ensure that everyone gets the same things in order to enjoy full, healthy lives. Like equity, equality aims to promote fairness and justice, but it can only work if everyone starts from the same place and needs the same things.

Systemic Equity

Systemic equity is a complex combination of interrelated elements consciously designed to create, support and sustain social justice. It is a dynamic process that reinforces and replicates equitable ideas, power, resources, strategies, conditions, habits and outcomes.

Inclusion

Inclusion is the action or state of including or of being included within a group or structure. More than simply diversity and numerical representation, inclusion involves authentic and empowered participation and a true sense of belonging.

Racial Justice

Racial justice is the systematic fair treatment of people of all races that results in equitable opportunities and outcomes for everyone. All people are able to achieve their full potential in life, regardless of race, ethnicity or the community in which they live.

A “racial justice” framework can move us from a reactive posture to a more powerful, proactive and even preventive approach.

Race

Race is a socially constructed system of categorizing humans largely based on observable physical features (phenotypes), such as skin color, and on ancestry. There is no scientific basis for or discernible distinction between racial categories.

The ideology of race has become embedded in our identities, institutions and culture and is used as a basis for discrimination and domination.

Racism

The concept of racism is widely thought of as simply personal prejudice, but in fact, it is a complex system of racial hierarchies and inequities. At the micro level of racism, or individual level, are internalized and interpersonal racism. At the macro level of racism, we look beyond the individuals to the broader dynamics, including institutional and structural racism.

Internalized Racism

Internalized racism describes the private racial beliefs held by and within individuals. The way we absorb social messages about race and adopt them as personal beliefs, biases and prejudices are all within the realm of internalized racism.

For people of color, internalized oppression can involve believing in negative messages about oneself or one’s racial group. For white people, internalized privilege can involve feeling a sense of superiority and entitlement, or holding negative beliefs about people of color.

Interpersonal Racism

Interpersonal racism is how our private beliefs about race become public when we interact with others. When we act upon our prejudices or unconscious bias — whether intentionally, visibly, verbally or not — we engage in interpersonal racism. Interpersonal racism also can be willful and overt, taking the form of bigotry, hate speech or racial violence.

Institutional Racism

Institutional racism is racial inequity within institutions and systems of power, such as places of employment, government agencies and social services. It can take the form of unfair policies and practices, discriminatory treatment and inequitable opportunities and outcomes.

A school system that concentrates people of color in the most overcrowded and under-resourced schools with the least qualified teachers compared to the educational opportunities of white students is an example of institutional racism.

Structural Racism

Structural racism (or structural racialization) is the racial bias across institutions and society. It describes the cumulative and compounding effects of an array of factors that systematically privilege white people and disadvantage people of color.

Since the word “racism” often is understood as a conscious belief, “racialization” may be a better way to describe a process that does not require intentionality. Race equity expert John A. Powell writes:

“‘Racialization’ connotes a process rather than a static event. It underscores the fluid and dynamic nature of race…‘Structural racialization’ is a set of processes that may generate disparities or depress life outcomes without any racist actors.”

Systemic Racialization

Systemic racialization describes a dynamic system that produces and replicates racial ideologies, identities and inequities. Systemic racialization is the well-institutionalized pattern of discrimination that cuts across major political, economic and social organizations in a society.

Public attention to racism is generally focused on the symptoms (such as a racist slur by an individual) rather than the system of racial inequity.

Racial Privilege and Racial Oppression

Like two sides of the same coin, racial privilege describes race-based advantages and preferential treatment based on skin color, while racial oppression refers to race-based disadvantages, discrimination and exploitation based on skin color.

Continue learning about racial equity and inclusion

The Annie E. Casey Foundation offers a variety of reports and resources to help promote racial equity and inclusion in America. Explore the resources below to learn more and help promote equity and inclusion in your life:

• Learn 7 steps to advance and embed racial equity and inclusion within your organization in the Race Equity and Inclusion Action Guide.
• Learn about institutional racism and how to develop and support leadership that contributes to racial justice in Leadership and Race.
• Learn about children living in high-poverty areas across the nation and the risks of concentrated poverty on children in Children Living in High-Poverty, Low-Opportunity Neighborhoods.
• Learn how work requirements have changed over time and the efforts that are underway to help low-income workers build greater economic stability in Taking Action: Positioning Low-Income Workers to Succeed in a Changing Economy.
• Learn about adultification bias, the stereotypes commonly applied to Black women and girls, and how Black female students are treated differently than their white peers in Listening to Black Women and Girls: Lived Experiences of Adultification Bias.

This post is related to:

• Racial Equity and Inclusion