Our Open Letter to the Movement: On Grief and Goodbyes

The past week has been full of sorrow and grief. The nightmare we all worked night and day to avoid finally happened, and the hardest part is that so many of our colleagues will lose their livelihoods in the process. We’ve lost so much, and stand to lose so much more in the decades to come. It’s gut-wrenching and there’s little time to grieve this moment. We know you all are working so hard to keep clinics open, making sure patients get where they need to go, and offering support to the fullest extent of the law, up until the very last possible minute. And, as no reprieve is in sight, many of you are making the decision about what’s next for you and your family.

Even Beyoncé’s declaration “you won’t break my soul” isn’t enough to pull us out of this pain.

We’ve heard from several of you about feeling guilty for needing to leave repro in search of work in other movements. Some of you have said you feel overwhelmed with sadness and feel like you’re abandoning ship as the shit is really hitting the fan. Some of you have said the guilt is eating you up inside. That feeling is real, and we have some words for you.

You’re not leaving repro. You’re not abandoning your comrades. We’re being forced out of our work and our movement home due to criminalization. They’re creating a system in which some of us are out of work or can only take certain risks due to our familial situations. They intentionally burned us out. The past decade has been impossible. All of those long nights weren’t sustainable. We always knew we’d have to do the work in shifts—the movement works in shifts too. We’re all doing the best we can, and trying to care for our families.

Leave your repro job if you must. That isn’t the same as leaving the repro movement. And it certainly isn’t leaving repro values behind. Take them with you. We’ve always said that the only way we’d liberate abortion is through intersectionality.

This is our moment to rebuild towards real reproductive justice. You can carry the work forward in another space. Spread all that you’ve learned on your next journey.

We need people who love repro in other spaces. We need clinicians who love repro in clinics across the country making sure every patient’s body is respected and aware of their options. We need advocates working with immigrants, the houseless, and young people who know they too deserve the ability to decide if, when, and how to grow their families. We need teachers who care about reproductive justice and will work to make sure young parents and students having all types of pregnancy outcomes are respected. We need janitors and grocery store workers who organize their colleagues for safe workplaces, thriving wages, and of course pregnancy accommodations and health insurance benefits.

That is critical, life-changing work, and you’re more than equipped to do it. You’re not saying goodbye. You’re changing your role and organizing around reproductive justice in another community. You’re taking a break for yourself and for the long haul. You’re organizing for a liberated future. That’s always a good thing.

When you’re ready we will have another shift change, and then you can come back. The bullshit will be here. We’ll be waiting for you. Always.