Coat Hangers and Staircases

This post is inspired by the super stringent abortion bills making their way through the Alabama, Georgia, Ohio, Missouri, and Louisiana legislatures (that I’m aware of as of now), and the well-meaning but misinformed takes about the cis white male boogeyman who’s to blame for this attack on women’s* rights. [*I’m a firm believer that abortion restrictions impact people of all genders, not just women, as there are people who are able to get pregnant that are not women and to reduce reproductive rights issues to women’s issues erases them.] My politics related to abortion rights and reproduction more broadly operate under a reproductive justice lens, a framework developed in 1994 by Women of Color seeking to advance conversations about the “Women’s Rights Movement” beyond the interests of cis white middle-class white women.

I just really wanted an excuse to use this.

My frustration at this discourse led to me writing this twitter thread. My overall point was that the abortion debate has always been bolstered by women, normally cis white women, who support anti-choice measures and politicians because it ultimately serves their interest of protecting white supremacy and by extension their role within it. To lay the blame squarely on cis men absolves these women of their responsibility, and much like the 53% of white women who voted for Trump, their role in supporting white supremacist patriarchy cannot be ignored. The author of the Alabama legislation and governor of Alabama are both white women, which you wouldn’t know without some digging because the only images we’ve seen of politicians in Alabama since this first became news are the 25 white men who voted for this bill.

What is the recourse when identity politics fails? If these women have shown that they have no qualms supporting legislation that actively supports white supremacy and harms other women, why continue to frame the conversation exclusively around men? This conversation can go all the way back to slavery, when white women were frequently more abusive towards female enslaved people and their children than their husbands were. White women have always supported white supremacy because it serves their interests, and leaves them as the pinnacle of womanhood with a level of social protection no other group can even compare to — not even white men.

White women historically weaponize this wherever possible, because they continue to benefit. So excuse me for not getting all up in arms because these “backwards” southern white men are trying to take my rights away. If we want to dig a little deeper into the abortion conversation specifically, Reproductive Justice frameworks go beyond having the choice to have an abortion and actually be able to access one— abortions are INCREDIBLY expensive, even if you can “access” one on a literal level.

The double gut punch of this is the reactions of people who aren’t from the South. I don’t even know where to begin with this. Y’all know I’m from Louisiana, and being from the South runs in my blood. I’m immensely proud of where I come from, and to see it reduced to memes about southern people being uneducated or comment threads full of dozens of people unapologetically saying how much they enjoy ragging on the South because it refuses to do better hurts me to my core. What’s always forgotten in these conversations is Northern hypocrisy towards the South because they’re neglecting their own legacies of discrimination and (lasting) segregation. You know where the most segregated cities in the country are located? Overwhelmingly, not the South.

Also missing from these conversations is a lack of historical context for northern elitism and racism that impacts how people feel towards the South. The stereotypical Southerner is not an uneducated white redneck, it’s most likely a Black person, as Black people make up the overwhelming majority of the population in the South. Feeling that these rednecks will be punished for their own stupidity in voting for conservative politicians is not only flawed, it’s dangerous because it neglects the reality that already marginalized populations will now face additional barriers to care.

Calling for industries and businesses to boycott these states to prove a point does nothing but harm the most vulnerable populations in these states. If economies start tanking because businesses leave, poor, multiply marginalized people will bear the biggest burdens of these impacts. But of course, it’s a lot easier to blame the poor white Southern archetype who deserves this for voting for conservative politicians, than to consider the poor rural Black and brown folks who will feel this the most.

And that’s without touching the cissexism of the discourse! People way smarter than me have broken this down in depth like here, but the gist of this is that people who are not cisgender women are capable of becoming pregnant and by extension capable of having abortions. Now, if the previous sentence doesn’t seem legit to you because “all people with uteruses are women”, then boy do I have some news for you. I’d take this as an opportunity to learn more about identity. Erasing trans and/or non-binary people from the conversation about abortion access and rights only makes it that much harder for them to access this kind of care.

So yes, this news is incredibly frustrating and heartbreaking to have to deal with. For those of us who support access, it’s an uphill battle. But a good place to start is supporting the work of organizations that are on the ground every day doing this work.

These abortion laws are all a ploy (albeit a very expensive and time consuming one) to get Roe v. Wade back in front of the Supreme Court and hopefully strike it down. While this may be obvious to some of us, it’s not part of the mainstream conversations about these laws because the internet is too busy pointing fingers and assigning blame without looking at next steps and ways to support the people who will be impacted by these restrictions. Below, I’ve listed some resources as a starting point for donating or providing other kinds of support during this fight. The list isn’t exhaustive, but thinking about some tangible ways to help keeps me from spiraling into a ball of anxiety so I figured it would be useful to others. Leave a comment or tweet me with other suggestions!

Help folks who can’t afford abortions: National Network of Abortion Funds

Donate to Black-led, Reproductive Justice organizations in the South:

Women with a Vision

SisterSong

SisterLove

If you have the ability, volunteer to be a local clinic escort!

I Went Abroad and Didn't Cause an International Incident: Life in the UK As a (Non-Hyphenated) American

This place has been quiet lately because SO MUCH has happened in my life since the end of March. I received a new job offer, went to Disney World, quit my old job, and flew out to the UK to spend two weeks training for my new position. My time is winding down here and it (as always) is making me reflective. (at the time of publishing this I’m back home in Texas).

This is my first time abroad since i was a child, and my first time overseas alone. I was fortunate that my partner was able to spend the first week of my visit with me, but I’m also enjoying being able to feel like a “big girl” and get around town alone, explore a bit on my own, things like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still incredibly paranoid and recognize that I’m still a young woman alone on the streets and can easily be pegged as a tourist if someone talks to me, so I keep my wits about me and only explore during the day. I got to see a castle, eat a traditional English Sunday Roast, and buy some really pretentious loose leaf tea.

But aside from that, the culture shock hit me more than I thought it would. Things that happen in the US become global news easily, and in my experience Brits aren’t afraid to ask you, a complete stranger, why the US is obsessed with guns or why the hell we let Donald Trump get elected. It took me aback the first time it happened, primarily because I was put on the spot in a train carriage jet-lagged after an 8 hour flight across the ocean. But because discussing politics is so taboo in the US — especially in a conservative state like Texas — it was refreshing to say how I felt in mixed company and dispel some of those stereotypes. I do love guns though, so I couldn’t do much about that one.

I don’t have much experience in other countries, but I can say that my time in England has been the first time I can recall that I’ve felt like an actual American, and not a Black/Woman/Queer/Other American. There’s a fundamental level of tension that marginalized people in the US especially exist with day to day, because we’re constantly on alert to brace ourselves for something out of pocket or well-meaning but disrespectful that someone says. When people asked me questions here, I didn’t need to speak on behalf of the Black community, I was speaking from my perspective as an American. When complaining about the weather, or the cost of healthcare, or the lack of seasoning on the food, or the backwards way they drive, I was speaking from an American perspective, not necessarily a Black one (seasoning complaints notwithstanding).

I would obviously explain things that are specific to Black American culture and say as much (like Beyonce’s remix of Before I Let Go), but no one asked me ridiculous questions about my hair or tried to use AAVE to seem cool. I’ve had more in-depth conversations about race, class, and social issues with my new coworkers after 10 days over here than I ever did with coworkers (except the ones I came to consider friends) in 18 months at my old job.

And I know England has its own issues with race/ism and other forms of oppression, but no one was outwardly discriminatory to me or even that annoying kind of race neutral “we don’t see color”. As someone who talks about racism and other -isms all the time, I still feel awkward bringing these things up around new people because you never know how they’re going to react! But it was refreshing to talk about the social issues in my country without being met with defensiveness or intentional misunderstanding. We had a great conversation about the importance of acknowledging race and other differences, because it’s part of our humanity.

Don’t get it twisted though, I am not on some American Pride wave, nor do I really believe that England is a progressive wonderland. I very much acknowledge that it’s a country built on colonization with an imperialist monarchy at its helm still and rising anti-immigrant sentiments pervading its politics. But for once in my life I’ve been able to experience what it’s like to be seen as American first, something I’ve never experienced at home.

Dame Products' Eva II: Weird Look, BIG Impact

I’m not a product reviewer. If anything, I kind of avoid reviewing toys because it’s pretty easy to be pigeonholed into just doing reviews instead of talking about sex/sexuality more broadly, which is my main interest. But sometimes opportunities present themselves. Enter Dame Products and my new obsession: the Eva II (use code “SEXOLOGYBAE” at checkout for 10% off any order!)

In the box itself, you get the Eva II (made from body-safe silicone!), its charging pod and cord, as well as instructions, a carrying pouch, and a sticker.

The first thing that stood out to me about the Eva II is its look. At first glance it looks like a futuristic bug or a home decoration accessory, but that’s part of its magic. The Eva II’s aesthetic reflects its primary goal as a vibrator for vulva-havers who want something to use with a partner. I think this makes it unique in the realm of “couple’s toys”, since those tend to be handheld and the Eva II is intended to be completely hands free.

I tried it in a few different positions under different conditions to test its ability to stay in place, which is one of its bigger selling points. I’m part of the majority of vagina-havers who cannot orgasm from penetration alone (CW: gendered discussions of genitals), so I was excited to use something that would give me clitoral stimulation during penetrative sex when I used it with my partner without necessarily needing my hands. I was skeptical, but the Eva II delivered for the most part.

The small button on the top is used to turn it on and cycle through the 3 strength settings, and a fourth push turns it off. There’s only one vibration pattern. The speeds have quite massive power jumps, but the middle setting worked best for me as someone who prefers a more concentrated buzz.

The small wings are what make this a hands-free product, as they’re meant to tuck underneath the labia majora (you can move the labia minora around the other side of the wings for a more snug fit, if your anatomy allows). The actual vibrator is meant to sit on the outside of the vulva, wherever feels best to the user. You can also position it upside down for a different sensation (it wouldn’t stay for me in this position but bodies are different).

Eva II, resting snugly in its charging case.

I kept my expectations low for its ability to stay in place during use, but I was pleasantly surprised. That being said, this product isn’t magic, so the more slippery things get the more likely it is to slide around. It also won’t stay in place well in positions that place your legs far apart, since it has nothing to hold on to. The biggest point of frustration for me with the Eva is that it can be hard to regulate the pressure when using it, which makes or breaks my ability to orgasm.

For me, it shines best when used in partnered positions that keep bodies closer together, which helps keep the vibrations concentrated where I need them. Using it alone meant that I had to use my hands to keep it in place and regulate the pressure since there’s nothing to keep it in place.

Overall, the Eva II is a great product for anyone, coupled or otherwise, who’s interested in trying out something hands-free that still has a lot of power. The uses are endless, since it uses your own body to stay put, which adds a bit of creativity to both solo sessions and good times with someone else.