A few weeks ago, I
attended the Day of Action against the Stupak Amendment with my organization,
the Pro-Choice Public Education Project (PEP). We rode on a bus organized by
the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health (NLIRH), with colleagues
I already knew, Twitter friends whose faces were now connected to their online
personas, and allies fighting for immigration rights. The atmosphere that
morning was intoxicating, even at an un-godly six o’clock. As is customary
within my circle of activist peeps, some great conversation incurred on the
bus, mentally preparing me for the challenges I would face during the day. I
was ready to rally and start some drama…after a nap and food at the rest stop.

Once in Washington, DC,
the day really began. It was to be a day of rallying, lobbying and networking
with folks in the Reproductive Justice and Feminist movements. My colleagues
and I were glued to our Blackberrys tweeting and re-tweeting the thoughts and
happenings of that afternoon.
There was much to be said.

We were led to the
Russell Senate Office Room for the rally. Well, to watch the rally from an
overflow room. I’ll start by saying that it’s pretty awesome that so many of us
showed up that an overflow room had to be made. But I didn’t travel 4 hours
from NYC at six in the morning to sit in an overflow room. As upset as I was to
not physically be at the rally, there were other issues with the overflow room
that were really irksome. We were surrounded by men and women who traveled with
us on NLIRH’s bus that did not speak English, and yet there was no interpreter
in sight. Uh, BIG problem. They came to show their support, but how could they
when they couldn’t understand what was going on? This was an example of
inexcusably poor organizing.

As I watched the rally
on TV, I realized that I could count the number of woman of color I saw on the
screen on my hands. Meanwhile I sat in an overflow room full of women – and men
– of color. As a young woman of color who’s seen this more times that I ever
wanted to, I was not surprised. But if I hadn’t been upset already, I
definitely was at that point. I will never feel comfortable saying that I think
this was intentionally done, but the fact that only my colleagues and I could
whisper about it in a corner infuriated me. If because of timing or poor
organizing, it so happened that we were racially segregated, fine, but say so.
Acknowledge that there weren’t enough black or brown faces in that rally when
there were plenty in the overflow room, and apologize.

A word on the presence
of young people: great job getting them to stand there with their pink shirts
and handmade signs; disaster getting their voices heard. If no one else
noticed, let me be the first to tell you that there was ONE young woman under
the age of 25 that spoke at the rally. Her task: to list the colleges and
universities the young people present at the rally represented. Really? You
don’t want to talk about how Stupak utterly screws young women? Young women of
color? Low-income young women? Fine, I’LL do it:

The Stupak Amendment
puts young women, specifically young women of color and low-income young women,
at a serious risk. It tells these young women not only that they have no
control over their bodies, but that they have no reproductive choices. Because
as we all know, Stupak will not change the lack of comprehensive sex education
in the U.S.; it will not change young women’s inability to access contraception
or reproductive services, even when they do choose to parent. No, it only
continues to exacerbate the inequities young women must face when trying to
care for themselves, their partners, and their families.

Being a young,
Nuyorican in the RJ movement has at the very least given me the advantage over
my peers of seeing how few people address our issues
and needs. Even those who claim to,
fail to prove to me that they do. I can say that with the allies I do have,
that will change, and the RJ movement will be an inclusive space for young
people.

Now to the Feminist
movement: bleh. On the Day of Action, I attended the Pro-Choice Youth Space
with young people from various organizations. PEP lent support to the
event, so I had an opportunity to talk about PEP and what we do along with
other folks who represented their organizations. It was great that this space
even existed, and I’m truly thankful it did, but that didn’t change my
discomfort with the dynamics in the room.

It was another
situation in which the number of young woman of color was disproportionate to
the number of white young women. It’s something that I’m usually good at
dealing with when I at least feel that the conversations taking place are
relevant to me, my work, and my background as an activist. This wasn’t the
case. Simply put, there’s no way I can feel comfortable putting my two cents
into a conversation dominated by young, white, college aged/educated, feminist women. Really, we don’t see eye to eye. I’m brown, from the Lower East Side of
NYC, attend a community college because my parents were too broke to send me to
a university, and younger than most.

I’m 19 years old and
have been working with PEP for the past 2+
years. At 19, and with the experiences I have, I already feel like I can’t
fully represent the young people I work for. My greatest desire is to see young
women under 18 dominate both the RJ and Feminist movements. That said, I feel
much more accepted as a young women of color in the RJ movement than I ever
have around other feminists. I am an RJ activist. And until feminism is an
inclusive movement – of age, race, class, sexual orientation, and education – I
will only be an RJ activist.

I’m tired from writing
this, just as I was exhausted by the Day of Action. I’m proud that my movement
affected change, and that by being there I was a part of the change. But I
continue to be dismayed by the lack of acceptance of young women of color, in
the RJ movement, in the feminist movement, and among sisters. Someone please
tell me they feel me.