Happy October, y’all. This month, we’re celebrating the blog’s first year as a resource for reproductive justice advocates and a place for feminist-minded Oklahomans to engage in conversation and investigation. The OK4RJ community has expanded to include voices from close-by midwestern, southern, and southwestern red states, so we’re devoting a series of posts to those perspectives.

the sign at the oklahoma-missouri border, westbound on 1-44

I moved to Saint Louis in 2009, after graduating from Oklahoma State University in Stillwater. I’ve written before about pertinent news coming out of Missouri, the most infamous being August’s big Todd Akin “legitimate rape” story. Earlier in the year, Missouri had been one of the first states to try passing a “conscience clause” bill in order to oppose the Affordable Care Act’s contraception mandate. Which was then vetoed by the governor. And then the state senate overrode the veto, like a bunch of jerks. It’s still a struggle to grab and hang onto a job here, and access to reduced-economic-stress contraception isn’t something Missourians are going to forget anytime soon. And something I haven’t mentioned previously is that this August, Springfield’s city council somewhat-quietly began to consider legislation to add gender identity and sexuality in that city’s non-discrimination laws (thankfully, the measure will not be decided – i.e., defeated – by public referendum).

Like Oklahoma, Missouri is a state with two major urban centers and a lot of small towns and rural spaces. Things like waiting periods, mandatory superfluous procedures, and resource scarcity have all the same impacts here as they do in any other rural red state. Reproductive justice activism here happens mainly under the banner of Planned Parenthood and takes the form of lobbying and petitioning. Smaller grassroots organizations and mid-size LGBTQ* advocacy groups exist, but few, if any, involve a comprehensive intersectional analysis as their foundation. And these groups – heavily comprised of older activists – still organize mostly for rights, not access. This may be because Missouri’s largest urban center is especially insulated from rural Missouri, buffed by miles upon miles of suburbs (not to mention the Mississippi River bordering the eastern edge of the city, conveniently separating us from severely blighted East Saint Louis, Illinois).

now just imagine another four inches of subdivisions and sports authoritys off to the left there

Fresh ideas and organizations headed up by young, progressive people living and working in Missouri are beginning to make their mark. Just last week, a new group based here in the city crashed an HRC gala in their highest-profile action yet, demanding that big-money “gay marriage” groups acknowledge the narrowness of their campaign. Many young progressives are also choosing to stay in Saint Louis after school to work and build social networks. The trend is a reversal of the city’s half-century long population slump, and can be attributed to comparatively low living costs and what looks like a “wash-back” from the suburbs (obvious downside: gentrification of wide swaths of the inner city).

Making a connection between rural and urban Missourians is likely the biggest obstacle young reproductive justice organizers in this state have to overcome. Planned Parenthood and other urban-focused sexual and reproductive health groups have done a lot of valuable work to include the voices and experiences of low-income city dwellers. The intersection of economic and reproductive justice in Missouri becomes clearer every day as our state’s political battle over the contraception mandate rages. That link provides a natural bridge between rural and urban struggle for reproductive justice. That’s all we need to get started. And maybe a handrail, unless we all want to scoot across on our butts.
Pearl doesn’t want to ruin her new flower jeans, even for the cause.