Rest, Resist, & Rise: The Fight for Sexual Reproductive Health (SRH) Equity and Women's Rights Doesn’t Stop Here

Election day may have come and gone, a disappointing, disheartening one. But my work towards SRH equity and women’s rights does not stop because of this setback. The people have spoken, and as a Haitian-American who believes deeply in democracy, I accept that, though I may not respect the outcome. The truth is that for many of us who sit at the intersections of marginalized identities—whether by race, immigration status, gender, socioeconomic status, or education—days like this carry a weight that some will never and could never fully understand.

Today, I’m giving myself space to recharge, recenter, and refocus. I am taking a step back to draw strength from within and from my ancestors who came before me. I come from a long line of ancestors who, despite a world stacked against them, pushed forward to ensure the next generation could live with more rights, more choices, and more chances. And I believe I have a duty to do the same for the future—to fight for those little Black children coming up behind me who deserve a future filled with promise, equity, and the true freedom to dream.

The work we do for justice and liberation is never quick or easy. It might be a wrap for my generation when it comes to seeing the type of world we envisioned, but we know progress does not happen overnight or even in a single lifetime. We work for justice and liberation so those after us can stand taller, speak louder, and live freer than we did. They deserve a better future, and I am determined to help pave the way for it.

To my sisters who choose to rest, to be unbothered, to check out when they need to—you have my complete understanding and support. Black women resting is a radical act of self-preservation in a world that expects us to be everything for everyone. To my sisters who are tired, who choose rest over resistance right now, that too is a revolutionary choice. Audre Lorde reminded us, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” Rest is not weakness; it is restoration.

But let’s be clear: no one is coming to save us. No politician, no policy, no institution is going to fix this. The only people who can save us are us. It’s our hands that will carry the torch. So we turn back to the words of our foremothers, who faced even darker days but never wavered in their resilience. As Fannie Lou Hamer so powerfully said, “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.” And as Angela Davis taught us, “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.”

So while this day may bring a wave of frustration and fear, a new chapter in the work opens up. Now is the time to leverage every bit of power we hold, to keep our seats at these tables, to continue fighting for equity, liberation, and justice for those who need it most. I am ready to dig my heels in, to strategize, to fight harder and smarter. We have miles to go, and I am here to walk every one of them.

As we navigate these challenging times, let us remember that our strength lies in our community. Each of us has a role to play in this vital work. Whether it’s advocating for policy change, supporting one another, or simply amplifying the voices of those who are often silenced, our collective action is powerful. I envision a future where every individual has access to comprehensive SRH care, free from stigma, oppression, and discrimination—a future where our children can grow up knowing their bodies and their rights are valued and protected.

Together, we can transform our frustration into action, our voices into a chorus for change. Let’s fight for ourselves and for generations to come. Because when we fight for equity and justice, we fight for a world where everyone can thrive.