The Real Estate of Abortion Politics
The fight over building permits for the Aurora, Ill. Planned Parenthood clinic is just one more example of how the fight over reproductive health is coming down to questions of infrastructure.
Ann Friedman | September 21, 2007 | web only
Dr. LeRoy Carhart may be one of the most prominent abortion providers in the country, thanks to the two Supreme Court cases (Stenberg v. Carhart and Gonzales v. Carhart) that bear his name. But the financial wear-and-tear of fighting dozens of courtroom battles over the past decade is visible in the rundown facade of his women's health clinic in Bellevue, Neb., a small town south of Omaha.
The Abortion and Contraception Clinic of Nebraska, which Carhart runs with his wife, Mary, is housed in building that used to be a marina and boat sales business until the Carharts leased the property in 1993. They gutted it to create their clinic, remodeling the inside to include several small exam and patient education rooms. Inside, two old wood-console TVs blare the Lifetime movie of the week, and the walls are cluttered with framed pictures of horses and lefty bumper stickers. It feels almost homey. "They've been so nice and professional," said one woman, who was at the clinic to have an abortion two days before shipping out to Iraq. "But from the outside it looks like a butcher house."
I think she really hits the nail on the head here in terms of one of the frustrating truths about clinics -- they do often look run-down, and I wish more people understood why. More than that, I wish it weren't that way. She also details all the nasty tactics used to block clinics, close them down, etc.
The fight over building permits for the Aurora, Ill. Planned Parenthood clinic is just one more example of how the fight over reproductive health is coming down to questions of infrastructure.
Ann Friedman | September 21, 2007 | web only
Dr. LeRoy Carhart may be one of the most prominent abortion providers in the country, thanks to the two Supreme Court cases (Stenberg v. Carhart and Gonzales v. Carhart) that bear his name. But the financial wear-and-tear of fighting dozens of courtroom battles over the past decade is visible in the rundown facade of his women's health clinic in Bellevue, Neb., a small town south of Omaha.
The Abortion and Contraception Clinic of Nebraska, which Carhart runs with his wife, Mary, is housed in building that used to be a marina and boat sales business until the Carharts leased the property in 1993. They gutted it to create their clinic, remodeling the inside to include several small exam and patient education rooms. Inside, two old wood-console TVs blare the Lifetime movie of the week, and the walls are cluttered with framed pictures of horses and lefty bumper stickers. It feels almost homey. "They've been so nice and professional," said one woman, who was at the clinic to have an abortion two days before shipping out to Iraq. "But from the outside it looks like a butcher house."
I think she really hits the nail on the head here in terms of one of the frustrating truths about clinics -- they do often look run-down, and I wish more people understood why. More than that, I wish it weren't that way. She also details all the nasty tactics used to block clinics, close them down, etc.