Hi, John, it’s Meg Barnette. (For anyone here who doesn’t know me, Brad has the good fortune to be my husband.)

It’s been a hard week already, in so many ways. For me personally, the loss of Cecile Richards (former President of Planned Parenthood, where I worked for a decade), the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, and the inauguration have hit me like a ton of bricks. But from the little chance I had to get to know Cecile, I have a sense of what she’d expect of us – and I wanted to share that with you.

Fifty-two years ago today, on January 22, 1973, Americans learned the results of Roe v. Wade – a landmark decision that legalized access to abortion and promised women the right to control their own bodies and health care. This was an incomplete victory, and like so much of our history, it rested on a shaky foundation of rhetorical rights and practical exclusion.

The Supreme Court’s devastating 2022 decision to overturn Roe was gut wrenching. But like the original victory, the loss was also incomplete. Since then, ballot initiatives across the country to protect women’s health have passed with impressive numbers, despite facing anti-democratic hurdles. This year, New York voters codified abortion at the state level with Prop 1. And New Yorkers are figuring out how to expand local access to abortion and support folks from other states.

Innovative tools like Charley, a chatbot for people living in states where abortion is restricted, provide information and protect confidentiality. Creative organizers at local abortion funds and organizations like the Brigid Alliance are figuring out how to fund abortions and how to support travel, lodging, and child care costs.

That scrappy, relentless, innovative work reflects the spirit of Cecile Richards, consummate maker of good trouble, who died on Monday morning (she refused to give that man one more minute of her attention). She is a source of inspiration and a call for accountability.

I was privileged to watch and learn from Cecile’s leadership over the decade I worked at Planned Parenthood in New York City. It did not matter whether the audience consisted of staff members, funders, patients, press, opponents, celebrities, or public officials – Cecile spoke in her authentic voice. She was clear, funny, glamorous, no-nonsense, salty, inspiring, kind, and tough.

I watched her sit through hours of congressional testimony, facing sexist, demeaning questions with poise and equanimity. I watched her wrestle with complicated histories, acknowledge harm caused, and dedicate meaningful time and resources to restore and rebuild. And after every event – whether it was a small gathering of supporters in someone’s home or a star-studded evening – Cecile recognized and appreciated the work of those who prepared the food and drink, set out the chairs, and kept the participants safe.

As we move forward, we have to find the courage, rage, hope, and heart that Cecile had – and build victories that apply equally to all of us.

Donald Trump and his regime want us to feel demoralized, exhausted, afraid, and alone. We must refuse to do so.

We cannot – we will not – accept a world where our kids have fewer rights than their grandparents.

When it feels like too much (and it might feel that way every day), remember Cecile’s knowing grin. Gather together with other trouble makers, take a breath, and recommit – again and again and again – to the fight for abortion access, bodily autonomy, and the inherent dignity of every human being.

The road ahead is long. But John, we’re in this fight together.

Thanks,

Meg Barnette