How Crisis Pregnancy Centers Trick Women
Crisis pregnancy centers bill themselves as organizations out to offer "pro-life counseling," in the words of Chris Slattery, the president of E.M.C. Pregnancy Centers. Pro-choicers, however, argue that the centers are deceptive, presenting themselves as medical facilities and even abortion clinics in order to lure pregnant women in, and then bombard them with guilt trips, emotional abuse, and even lies in an effort to keep them from having abortions.
Vice News decided to find out more, going undercover in crisis pregnancy centers and a training session to see how they really operate, and producing a short film. Vice’s Fazeelat Aslam starts by interviewing anti-abortion activist Lila Rose, who paints a rosy picture of crisis pregnancy centers. "The whole intention is to help women and give them positive options," Rose explains. But Vice found a clip of a crisis pregnancy center training run by Abby Johnson, where help seemed to be less of a priority than trying to trick women. "We want to look professional. We want to look business-like. And, yeah, we do kind of want to look medical," Johnson explained to a crowd of crisis pregnancy volunteers. "The best client you ever get is the one that thinks they're walking into an abortion clinic, the ones that think you provide abortions," she added.
The NFL Opines on “the Role of the Female”
Today, the New York Times’ Ken Belson reports on how some female football fans are growing disillusioned with the sport in the wake of a wave of domestic violence arrests of NFL players, and an endlessly bungled response by league officials. “Before this week I held the N.F.L. in a different view,” Chicago Bears fan Nicole Larvick told Belson. “It seemed different—like families and communities were important to them. But I know it’s just a business now.”
But Belson’s piece moves the needle past Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson to show that the NFL’s woman problem did not originate this week, that football has always been just business, and that the disconnect runs far deeper than the domestic violence issue. “I think the league is tone deaf to a lot of cultural things,” said 50-year-old Elise Johnson. “Society has evolved. I don’t think the N.F.L. has evolved.” Take this quote from NFL chief marketing officer Mark Waller, talking about why women are important to the league:
The matriarch of the family predetermines an awful lot that goes on, from what sport you play to what media you watch to what products get bought … The role of the female in the household is huge. On the emotional side, the role that the female builds that a family can gather around is fundamental. That sort of communal aspect, which is such a part of the game in America.
Where Pregnant Women Aren’t Allowed to Work After 36 Weeks
The state of American child care is pretty abysmal. Day care is not well-regulated, the quality is often poor, and it’s expensive: In 35 states and Washington, D.C., it costs more than a year’s in-state college tuition. We are the only wealthy nation that does not guarantee paid vacation or sick days, so when a snow day or a fever keeps a child out of school, it can mean a career setback for many parents. And for working parents with low-wage jobs, things are even worse.
We point to other countries—often ones in Europe—as models of how to do child care right. But is it really so much easier to be a working parent in Paris than it is in Peoria? We asked working moms and dads from all over the world to tell us their child care experiences. Here is the fifth in our occasional series, from a mother in Utrecht, the Netherlands.
Name: Maartje van 't Riet
Occupation: HR manager
Partner’s occupation: Assistant professor
Children: A daughter, almost 3, and an 8-month-old son.
Hi, Maartje. What are your work hours?
Both my husband and I have a day off a week. On paper, we each work 32 hours a week. Full-time contracts are 40 hours a week. We both have flexible working hours, which means we can both work from home and we can also work during evenings and weekends if it means we start our working day later or end it earlier.
Who takes care of your children while you work?
Today in Gender Gaps: Biking
Elizabeth Plank at Mic took to the bike paths of New York City to investigate the "huge and under-reported" gender gap in, of all things, bicycle-riding. Turns out way more men ride bikes than women: "In the U.S., 1 woman for every 3 men gets around on a bicycle," Plank writes. "In London, 77% of bike trips are taken by men and only 5% of women identify as frequent cyclists."
This is a gender gap that actually surprised me. After all, if you stick your head into any given spin class, 80-100 percent of the people huffing through sprints are women, guaranteed. So why isn't that the case out on the street? Plank dug in and found that women face a number of obstacles: "Women's aversion to risk, women's clothing, economic and time poverty, as well as sexual harassment." Some of the problems really are insurmountable—it's hard to grocery shop for a family and drop your kids off at soccer and school on a bicycle—but as someone who is both a lady and a major fan of using a bicycle for transportation whenever I can, I would like to encourage more women to bike. Here are some reasons to hop on:
Is Nonfiction the Patriarch of Literary Genres?
National Book Awards season is upon us: The judges have just announced the longlist for 2014’s nonfiction contest. The ten-book lineup includes a historical account of Paris under German occupation (by Ronald C. Rosbottom), a biography of Tennessee Williams (by John Lahr), a study of economic ambition in the “new China” (by Evan Osnos), and E.O. Wilson’s meditations on “the meaning of human existence.” There is also No Good Man Among the Living, by Anand Gopal, and The Mantle of Command: FDR at War, 1941-1942, by Nigel Hamilton. Finally—like a breeze that floats into a history classroom when someone finally opens the window—there is Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?, the cartoonist Roz Chast’s memoir about her aging parents.
I don’t mean to diminish the acheivements of the other nominees, but it is striking that, after winnowing down a pool of almost 500 contenders, the judges came up with a male-to-female ratio of nine to one, with Chaz as the whimsical outlier. The skew is especially notable given that, in general, the NBA is recognizing more and more women: Though winners and finalists in the 1950s were almost 80 percent male, recent years show women gaining ground and even surpassing their male peers in some prize categories. Look at the names of this year’s Young Adult and poetry finalists, and you’ll find an even split between men and women. Is the heavy maleness surrounding the 2014 nonfiction roster just a statistical fluke?
Hey CBS, Rihanna Is Exactly Who I Want to See on My TV Before NFL Games
Last Thursday night, CBS and the NFL Network decided to pull its planned opener—the Jay Z and Rihanna song “Run This Town”—during its pregame broadcast, hoping to strike a more serious tone in light of the Ray Rice video. “At the time, CBS Sports President Sean McManus said Rihanna's own history as a victim of domestic violence was one part of the decision but not the overriding one,” reported ESPN.
Rihanna was not having it, taking to Twitter to complain:
CBS you pulled my song last week, now you wanna slide it back in this Thursday? NO, Fuck you! Y'all are sad for penalizing me for this.— Rihanna (@rihanna) September 16, 2014
Now, CBS has decided to cut Rihanna from Thursday Night Football altogether. “Beginning this Thursday, we will be moving in a different direction with some elements of our Thursday Night Football open,” a CBS statement reads. “We will be using our newly created Thursday Night Football theme music to open our game broadcast.”
While the network may have been peeved at Rihanna's reaction, this is a terrible decision. The Ray Rice controversy blew up not just because of the video, but also because the Baltimore Ravens and the NFL initially portrayed domestic violence as a couple's mutual responsibility, instead of holding the abuser solely responsible. By cutting Rihanna's song in part because she got beat up by her now-ex Chris Brown in 2009, CBS is treating yet another victim like she's the problem here. The move is also troubling because it suggests that no matter how many records she sells or where she goes with her career, in many people's eyes (such as those of CBS executives), Rihanna is defined by someone else's choice to attack her.
Rihanna is exactly the person to put up front if you want to show that you are supporting victims of domestic violence. Sure, she is a flawed person, as we all are, and it was hard watching her struggle so publicly to free herself of a relationship with Brown. But Rihanna is also an example for women who are currently trying to escape the vortex of domestic violence, showing that, while it may be difficult, it can be done. You can escape. You can thrive.
Most importantly, changing the music that runs before games as a way to address the NFL's domestic violence problem is a joke—an empty symbolic gesture, which in this case, sends the exact opposite message presumably intended. But hey, at least Chris Brown's new record stinks.
My Year As an Abortion Doula
My first patient ever stares at me blankly when I say the doctor will see her soon. Her two small children treat the waiting room chairs like monkey bars; they’ve been sitting around for hours. Dee (some names have been changed throughout) is here to get laminaria inserted, the small seaweed sticks positioned in the cervix that expand upon contact with moisture, producing enough dilation to enable a second trimester abortion, which will happen tomorrow. I know I’m not succeeding at giving her the warm, confident assurance I’ve practiced in the mirror.
I stand by her head as she spreads her legs. She begins to moan, softly and then without control. “You’re doing great,” I tell her, clenching my jaw, smiling still. Through her moans I hear one doctor tell the other that there’s too much blood. They call for a hospital transport and tell her they’re going to do the abortion today, right now. Then we’re running across the hospital floor as the doctors yell for people to move out of the way. It’s my first day, but I know enough to know that this is serious. I keep my hand on Dee’s, murmuring words of support. Once she’s under anesthesia, I get out of the way, stand in the back, hope that I can handle this.
I’m in a large public hospital in Manhattan, volunteering as an abortion doula with an organization called the Doula Project. My role is to provide women with emotional and physical support, offer comfort or distraction, answer their questions, and, most of all, just be with them during their first or second trimester abortions. A year ago, when I was still in college, I got the idea to apply for the job when my roommate told me about her childhood friend Elise. Raised in a conservative, Catholic family in a wealthy Boston suburb, Elise had an abortion in high school and was harassed by classmates, churchgoers, and townspeople. Now she was volunteering as an abortion doula in New York. I’ve considered myself pro-choice since sixth grade when I learned the word, and I had manned the phones at the NARAL office in downtown New York when I was in high school. But I had never been anywhere near an abortion clinic. I had no idea what to expect.
Why Not Just Turn Campus Rape Allegations Over to the Police? Because the Police Don't Investigate.
In the urgent conversation about how universities should be dealing with campus sexual assault, there are some who object to the idea of university disciplinary boards handling these cases to begin with, asking: Why not just go straight to the police? This question is misleading, as Emily Bazelon pointed out in July: "It’s not either/or," she wrote. There "are supposed to be two parallel tracks," with the police handling its responsibility to enforce the law and the university handling its responsibility to protect student safety. But, as a Sunday New York Times story demonstrates, there's another reason that universities should not just turn these cases over to the police and walk away: The police are often eager to walk away, too.
Richard Pérez-Peña and Walt Bogdanich examined a series of sexual assault allegations reported by students at Florida State, the university that drew national attention after the school's star quarterback Jameis Winston was accused of rape, and, as Bogdanich reported in April, both the school and the police failed to properly investigate. This new reporting shows exactly why it's not enough to tell victims to report to the police instead of their schools and leave it at that: Florida State students are already calling the police, but the police aren't investigating.
From the New York Times:
“Love” Is Not a Defense for Beating Your Child
The details, on their face, are inexcusable: Adrian Peterson, a 217-pound running back for the Minnesota Vikings, was indicted last week for "reckless or negligent injury to a child." Peterson allegedly whipped his four-year-old son with a stick, leaving bruises on his back, open wounds on his legs, cuts to his scrotum, defensive wounds on his hands, and perhaps more: “Daddy Peterson hit me in the face,” the child reportedly told authorities after doctors examined him and identified him as a victim of child abuse. In case the testimony of a four-year-old kid and his doctors isn’t enough, there are pictures to prove that this was more than just a swat on the rear end. But proof is not the issue here. Peterson himself admits that he beat his child. His defense is that he beat him lovingly.
According to reporting by TMZ and others, Peterson sent a text message to the child’s mother after the beating that said: “Never do I go overboard! But all my kids will know, hey daddy has the biggie heart but don’t play no games when it comes to acting right.” Peterson’s lawyer, Rusty Hardin, stuck to the theme in a statement on the incident: “Adrian Peterson is a loving father who used his judgment as a parent to discipline his son.”
Reactions from around the NFL imply that "love" is a valid reason for beating a child. “I got a ass whippn at 5 with a switch that's lasted about 40mins and couldn't sit for 2days. It's was all love though,” Arizona Cardinals defensive end Darnell Dockett tweeted in Peterson’s defense. Added New England Saints running back Mark Ingram, Jr.: “When I was kid I got so many whoopins I can't even count! I love both my parents they just wanted me to be the best human possible!”
Life as an NFL Wife: “He's the Star. Keep Him Happy.”
Tracy Treu, a former Mother Jones employee who is married to former Oakland Raiders center Adam Treu, sat down with Ian Gordon at Mother Jones and explained what life is like when you're the wife of an NFL player. The headline, "Support the Player and Be Quiet," really says it all, but Treu digs into some of the details about how much wives are expected to build their entire lives around their athlete husbands. For instance:
The NFL is a culture that values secrecy. When you're with an NFL team, the message to you is clear: Don't fuck anything up for your partner, and don't fuck anything up for the team. Don't be controversial. Don't talk to the media. Stay out of the way. Support the player and be quiet.
While the team doesn't officially say this to wives, Treu explains, veteran wives will absolutely sit down with rookie wives and lay out how much their lives are going to be about the team winning games, and that everything else is secondary. Treu worked during her stint as an NFL wife, but, "A lot of these wives don't work. They can't." Part of it is that there's always a chance of moving, but part of it is, "He wants her home." Being a player is an all-consuming lifestyle, and having that support system at home is invaluable. But what is asked of women can get ridiculous.