By Becca Cadoff, Reproductive Freedom Project at 12:11pm
In the latest affront to women's health, Alabama Governor Robert Bentley signed into law a bill that could force health centers in the state to close their doors if they provide abortion care. We may not all see eye-to-eye about abortion, but most people agree that we all need access to health care without politicians getting in the way.
Isn't it time we are allowed to make our own decisions about our health care?
This bill is just another example of political attacks on women's health, following on the heels of North Dakota, Arkansas, and other state efforts to block access to abortion care. The trend of attacking women is snowballing out of control, and we need to stop it.
Picture this: You’re in fifth grade. Maybe you’re in sixth grade. And, you go to public school. You show up for class on Monday morning, and if you’re a boy, you’re ushered into a bright classroom. You’re given the option of sitting on a bouncy ball – or of standing at your desk or even of moving around the room, if you prefer. You’re also given stress balls to play with and headphones to keep out the noise the other students make, if you chose to use them. The teacher doesn’t look you in the eye, speaks in strong, direct tones, and gives minimal instructions, leaving you to figure out how to execute the assignment at hand. Your teacher talks about “‘being a man,’ that is, an adult male who is essential to his community’s care and development.” Businessmen from the community and other role models regularly come in to meet with your class or with you one-on-one.
The U.S. Supreme Court today agreed to review a case that challenges the constitutionality of the Voting Rights Act, which has been a crucial tool for protecting the minority vote and ensuring equal access to the ballot box.
The court agreed to hear Shelby County v. Holder, which involves Shelby County, Ala. The ACLU intervened in the case in order to represent minority voters and the state NAACP chapter, and protect the right to vote.
For 25 years, the ACLU has been a forceful advocate to end discrimination against prisoners living with HIV. We've worked to end their segregation from the rest of the prison population and ensure they are afforded access to vital services and programs.
You can’t catch HIV from everyday contact with the people around you.
Old news, right? In fact, all of those points were made in Understanding AIDS, the health information pamphlet mailed to every American household by Surgeon General C. Everett Koop in 1988. But apparently the message was lost on folks at the Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC).
Alabama segregates all prisoners with HIV, and houses them separately from all other prisoners – it’s an HIV ghetto. As soon as you walk into Limestone Correctional Facility, the prison where Alabama houses all male prisoners with HIV, you know who has the virus: they are forced to wear a white armband day and night.
Alabama’s outrageous attempt to deny some immigrant children their right to education is among the provisions that was rejected Monday by the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit. The Atlanta-based court also blocked other harmful parts of Alabama and Georgia’s anti-immigrant laws, including those that attempted to criminalize everyday actions with undocumented immigrants.
But the court left room for narrow implementation of certain ‘show me your papers’ provisions, which the ACLU and a civil rights coalition will continue to fight against.
Alabama Gov. Robert Bentley late Friday signed a measure that makes small changes to the state’s anti-immigrant law. The move came a day after he signaled he might veto the measure because he found two key parts unacceptable, including a "scarlet letter" provision that would have branded many law-abiding immigrants as criminals.
Despite his reservations, Bentley said he signed the measure to “remove the distraction of immigration” from a special session of the Legislature he called this week, and allow what he called “progress made in the legislation to move forward.”
As I stepped off the plane from JFK to Oakland, I admit that I was a bit scared. Normally sitting behind a desk, I was about to embark on a ten-day journey across the United States, sharing a van with eight people I had yet to meet, trying to rally people against the wave of discriminatory “show me your papers” laws in the very states that have adopted them. I was in unfamiliar territory.
