Rosa Parks. Harriet Tubman. Maya Angelou. These are the remarkable women so often remembered during Black History Month. But this month, let’s draw our focus on the women whose lives have made an impact on so many of us, but whose names have been forgotten, and at worse, never known.
The History of Gynecology
I was recently reading Angela Garbes’book titled “Like a Mother: A Feminist Journey through the Science and Culture of Pregnancy” and kept cycling through tears, anger, and shock as I read the harrowing history of gynecology in the United States. I’ll provide a quick summary but encourage you to check out the book if you’ve ever questioned why it’s difficult to navigate the journey to motherhood.
Around 1850, Dr. J Marion Sims began performing surgeries on enslaved black women during and after childbirth. Since slaves were considered property, and not people, the women were not given a choice to participate and sometimes had to endure dozens of repeated surgeries as Dr. Simms perfected his operations. More horrifyingly, these women were not offered anesthesia during these painful vaginal surgeries because, as black women, Dr. Sims did not see them as human beings who could experience pain in the same way as white women. Once the surgeries had been perfected, Dr. Sims began performing them on white women with the aid of anesthesia. The cruelty of this injustice makes my heart ache.
For his achievements, Dr. Sims is often celebrated for his advancements and is credited as the father of modern gynecology. Anyone who has had a pap smear has benefitted from his invention of the vaginal speculum. Unfortunately, the brave women who were foundational to his success were forgotten for over a century. In recent years, artist Michelle Browder, has raised an awareness movement to remember and acknowledge the “mothers of gynecology”. Most names have been forgotten but we still have records of Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey (depicted in the statue below). Medical journals reveal that Dr. Sims performed over 30 surgeries on Anarcha, who was 17 and pregnant when she was first operated on. Imagining the pain and injustice these young women have endured is maddening, but also worth remembering.
The Ongoing Struggle
Today, we continue to see the inequalities that plague maternal health outcomes for Black women today. The statistics are sobering: Black women are 3-4 times more likely to die from pregnancy-related complications than their white counterparts. This is true even when education, finances, and access are accounted for. Even Serena Williams, an Olympic athlete who is very in tune with her body and has access to the best healthcare, did not have her concerns and pain taken seriously during her pregnancy. I feel outraged for her. There’s still a long road ahead to provide Black women the care they deserve.
As a woman and a mother, I feel a responsibility to advocate for change. But as a tired mother of an active 4-year-old and a person with a job far from the field of medicine, it feels hard to make a difference. The lesson I’m taking forward is two parts. First, I’m grateful to have learned the history of the founding mothers of gynecology. I plan to share it with friends and with you our readers, so we can all learn the impact Black women have had on our lives. Second, when I am in a situation, whether it be at work with a colleague or sitting in a hospital waiting room, I can be aware of the pain of the people around me and try to validate and advocate for the pain they are experiencing. So often, women’s pain is minimized. This statement is truer still for Black women. If I can advocate for someone else by saying “I think this is serious” or “I think she should be allowed to go home and rest” would be enough of a small step forward.
Do you have any ways that make you feel empowered to make a change or ideas for small steps we can all take?
