Grief is Political
Rachel Markowitz
I don’t think I’ll be able to forget the feeling I had on Friday, June 24th, while I was casually scrolling through my social media feeds. Sitting and clicking through Instagram stories is how I found out that Roe v. Wade was overturned.
The constant swirling of news and information is like a tornado. If you are in the middle of a tornado, you are safe for the time being, but you can see everything whirling around outside you. You can only hope that everything will be okay. However, once the storm is over and you step outside to assess the damages, you see the wreckage of buildings and houses, and realize the disaster that occurred. As a person that is not currently in need of an abortion, this is how I felt.
Just like how each individual experiences the damage of a tornado differently, every person in America can have different grief reactions to the same event. Similar to how some buildings are demolished in a tornado and some are left unscathed, some individuals can carry on with their daily lives, feeling unaffected, while others are mourning the rights that they lost and the uncertainty of their futures. For some, their own metaphorical house is still upright. In other words, they know that they will personally be okay. Still, they have a feeling of grief worrying about their neighbors, loved ones, and even strangers across the country.
As someone living in a blue state with a supportive and pro-choice family, I am not currently worried for my own safety, because I know that I will have access to any healthcare services that I might need. Still, I mourn the losses that I know others will face. Just like viewing footage of the wreckage of a storm on a TV screen, I watch the news wondering whose lives will be in danger.
Many people, particularly marginalized groups, are also facing “anticipatory grief,” in which they grieve the losses that they may eventually have to face. People are forced to ask themselves difficult questions. What if I am in a situation where I need an abortion and cannot access one? How will I go on with my life and what will my future look like? People are not only fearing for what may happen to themselves in these scenarios, but fearing what may follow these abortion bans. Is same-sex marriage next? Access to contraceptives?
I was originally worried that writing about abortion for a blog focused on grief was too political. The last thing I would want is to alienate any individual for having different political views than my own. However, that seems to be avoiding a bigger overall issue: grief is political. Marginalized groups are undoubtedly experiencing the news at a much more personal level than others: those living in poverty, those living in states with stricter bans than others, those in situations of domestic violence, rape, and incest, those with medical conditions that will prevent them from surviving a pregnancy, the list goes on. While we are assessing the wreckage of the metaphorical tornado, it is their homes and livelihoods that have been upturned and crumbled.
Despite how personal or distant these issues of abortion access might be to someone, every individual will need different support to process this information. Whether someone is mourning the future loss of someone they know, or mourning the potential loss of their own rights, it is important to recognize that this grief is legitimate. If you are struggling to find information after the reversal of Roe v. Wade, here are some resources that you may find helpful.