Ay, bendito. The words drawn out, mi abuelita clasps her hands tightly to her chest as she outstretches her hands to take her great-granddaughter into her arms for the first time and walk with her around her home to look at pictures of her mami, the smell of arroz con gandules and habichuelas keeping warm on the stovetop in the home she shares with her Falito, mi abuelito. A new core memory formed, a catch in my throat, and a realization that our family survived the possibility of forced sterilization, a stark realization of the toll of “scientific advancement in reproductive health” at the expense of over a third of Puerto Rican women.
This June is Caribbean American Heritage Month, and as a new mother, I am more reflective on the layers of my identity as a queer Latina with pride in both my Boricua and Colombian heritage with a newfound determination to preserve traditions, recipes and better understand the impact of colonization, slavery, and migration and how that inevitably shaped the diaspora and how it shapes me as a reproductive justice advocate today.
On the third anniversary of the Dobbs decision, the continued persecution of Black and Brown immigrants in our backyards, and the attack on gender-affirming care, I feel the inevitable strain of resilience hanging by a thread to face the barrage of injustice.
Yet, we persevere.
In light of all that is happening, it has never been more evident that these movements are elements of my identity, and they are intertwined, and that our strength comes from our ability to lift each other because of our interconnectedness, for our ancestors and future generations, because el pueblo unido jamás será vencido.
Mi abuelita was fortunate, but over the decades, a third of Puerto Rican women experienced sterilization as a part of the colonial history of controlling women’s reproduction and bodies. We are not political fodder; we are individuals trying to build a better life for ourselves, our loved ones, and to create a more equitable society, and a right to bodily autonomy. We must continue to work to end the colonial legacy of oppression and its manifestation in policies rooted in white supremacy that upend reproductive rights.
We are mirrors of our past, present, and future. Our families make difficult decisions to leave their countries, the only homes they’ve known, for the promise of new opportunities and the hope for a better life. Yet, Latinas continue to face barriers to accessing birth control due to language, socioeconomic status, and consent. The irony is not lost on me that these factors that were used to coerce Puerto Rican women to become test subjects for the modern birth control pill are the same ones we are continuing to fight against in 2025 in the name of reproductive freedom.
Accessing some of the most effective contraceptive methods hangs in the balance due to misinformation and restrictions that could heighten the exploitation of marginalized communities and alter how we achieve reproductive health access for all, especially when a quarter of Latina women in the U.S. cannot afford birth control.
We must learn from the past and ensure that we do not meet the same fate in the future. This Caribbean American Heritage Month, I choose to honor Boricuas, who were stripped of their ability to make informed decisions about their reproductive health, not only for my daughter and future generations but because reproductive justice is a legacy worth fighting for.
Vanessa A. Castro, MPA, MPH, is a Public Voices fellow of the OpEd Project, The National Latina Institute for Reproductive Justice, and the Every Page Foundation, working in the nonprofit sector to promote health equity.
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