A few years ago, a critic said something that stuck with me
which led me, recently, to an unusual experience. Back when I was president of a
national nonprofit organization working to reform maternity care practices, a
critic of natural childbirth accused leaders of the reform movement of being
insular. She claimed we always heard from the same experts who touted the same
studies, and our tunnel vision kept us from viewing the “big picture.” At the
time I considered whether she had a point. After all, there was a fairly small
pool of experts – the “usual suspects” who published books, appeared in
documentaries, and spoke at conferences. Were we operating in a bubble? That
critique made me aware of the importance of seeking out other sources of
information as a kind of reality check. So earlier this year, when I received
an email about The
Tenth Annual Transgender Lives: The Intersection of Health and Law Conference
being held at the University of Connecticut in April, and saw there were
presentations on healthcare advocacy, I was inspired to attend. I was curious
what experts who specialize in issues that affect another, very different,
population would have to say about healthcare delivery.
I was excited about the prospect of hearing from a whole new
group of people who would expand my horizons. For weeks leading up to the
conference, I envisioned myself soaking up new information and being re-energized
by learning cutting-edge research and ideas. In my mind I pictured myself being
totally focused on the speakers in rapt attention.
On the day of the conference I was thrown out of my comfort zone in
the parking lot, before I even walked into the building. As I got out of my
car, one of the first conference attendees that I saw was a grown man, about 30
years old, wearing a baby-doll dress with a lace bib collar, white eyelet knee
socks, mary-jane shoes, with his hair in pigtails. He was carrying a purse over
his shoulder. I thought to myself, “Whoa – I guess I’m not in Kansas anymore…”
You see, while I envisioned myself at the conference, I had not envisioned anyone
else who would be at the conference. I’d been looking forward to learning about
healthcare from a new perspective, but didn’t fully anticipate that the
perspective would be that of transgender people, who in case you don’t already
know, are a bit different from the pregnant women, midwives, and doulas I
usually attend conferences with.
Once I got inside the building, I saw that the baby-doll
dress was the most radical outfit in the place. Most of the attendees were much
more low-key, although the energy of the environment was different from a
birth-related conference, and the culture was different too. When I was given a
name tag to fill out, I was asked to put my name and which pronouns I prefer to be called on it. I learned that pronouns are a very big deal in the LGBTQ
community. The vendor gallery was filled with organizations that offered STD
testing, HIV testing and support, mental health services, and legal support.
Bright colored condoms were given out along with the usual pens and water
bottles. The bathrooms were non-gendered, and frankly, it was sometimes hard to
tell who was a man and who was a woman anyway. Once the stall doors closed, it didn't matter. Everyone was very polite and
respectful, though. I did overhear more than one person say that this
conference was one of the few places they felt safe using a public bathroom,
but that’s another blog post.
While so much of the environment felt different to me, when
it came to discussions about healthcare, much was similar to what we discuss
about maternity care, and about healthcare in general. While technology and
surgical techniques have made incredible advances, they are not foolproof, and
there is still much more that remains unknown. It is vital to your well-being
and your safety to have someone at your bedside to help advocate for you while
you are in the hospital. Access to certain kinds of care is challenging and
costly. Sometimes doctors and other caregivers are heroic and champion our
needs, and other times care is paternalistic, disrespectful, and traumatic.
Being able to use your voice, express your preferences, and have them be
respected is an important component of good health outcomes. Minority people,
people of color, and other oppressed populations do not get the same quality
care that upper-class white cisgender men get. The advocacy skills necessary
for getting good care are basically the same, whether you are going into the
hospital to have gender-confirming surgery, to have a baby, or because of some
other health reason, like cancer, heart disease, or other illness.
I learned a number of new things that day, and also
confirmed some things I already knew. Hearing from experts outside the field of
maternity care assured me that I’m not being insular or looking at healthcare
with tunnel vision. There are serious issues with the way healthcare is
delivered in this country, and they affect people in similar ways, regardless
of the different reasons why people seek care. Attending that conference was an unusual
experience, which expanded my horizons. It reminded me of the value of moving
outside my comfort zone and seeking out other people and places to gain
valuable perspective.
And that man in the baby-doll dress? They (yes, that’s the
right pronoun) are advocating to make healthcare better for you.
Michal Klau-Stevens is a professional
speaker and healthcare consumer advocate. She is a maternity consultant, pregnancy
coach, and expert on consumer healthcare care issues, Past President of
BirthNetwork National, a Lamaze Certified Childbirth Educator, and mother. Her website is TheBirthLady.INFO. Find her on LinkedIn and on Facebook at The Birth Lady page!
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