The Woman Project in group exhibition at Brown University Medical School

Dear Diary,
Last night I stopped by Brown University’s Warren Alpert Medical School building in Providence to attend to the Our Voice/ Our Choice art installation. A few of the photos had fallen from the display due to the extreme humidity, so I was there to repair the fixtures. The process took me almost two hours, and, while I worked, medical students walked throughout the quiet hallway intermittently. Most of the students were hurried, bustling to and from what I assumed was a first class period of their new semester. One student paused, however, to take a look at the photos I had just rehung. He had a huge smile on his face as he snapped a photo of the artwork with his cell phone.

“These are so cool… I love them.” He was admiring the TWP uterus mask community photos.

“Oh yah, aren’t they rad? These photos are part of an ongoing series in our #OrganEquityNow campaign. It’s about creating a visual reminder that women’s bodies need to be considered by our government, and we’re going to demand that happen as a unified group of citizens.” I stepped back from tape supplies, grinning, excited by his obvious support and enthusiasm. He was still staring intently at the photos and reading the title cards. “Are you familiar with The Woman Project?” I asked.

“No, not yet. What is it?”

“So TWP is a local non-profit pushing to codify Roe V Wade at the state level here in Rhode Island. We formed in response to Trump getting elected. TWP operates with a ‘one-issue-at-a-time’ mentality. This can feel heartbreaking at times but we actually heard early on from other local feminist non-profits that this approach might be a huge advantage when looking to make significant strides on a particular front so we’re doing our best to stick to the mission. We are trying to push reproductive healthcare to the forefront of Rhode Island’s political concerns, and we are doing that through art-activism which, again, makes us unique. Planned Parenthood is obviously working towards the same goal, but they can’t take the same sort of PR risks that we can because they need to remain professional. So TWP is filling in a gap; we’re the gadfly. And all the while we’re trying to make activism a fun, community-building experience.” He nodded attentively as I talked. “Are you a medical student here?”

“Yes, I am,” he said. He sounded proud, but also a little tired as he formed the words.

I immediately put out my hand to shake his. “Thank you for your work. What you do is so important to our society. It’s a job for a special type of people, and I’m happy and feel fortunate that someone as empathetic as you is going to be helping people in such radical and life-changing ways.”

He laughed humbly as he shook my hand. “Thank you, yes- being in med school is a lot of personal sacrifice. Especially for someone in my position because I want to go into contagious disease with an emphasis on those that affect the LBGTQ community, and there’s next to no money in that field.”

My heart sunk; I hadn’t ever considered that specific imbalance in the medical community, but I certainly didn’t doubt this was true. I sighed. “Don’t worry; when I’m president I’m going to fund the sh*t out of that research.” He didn’t expect that and it made him snort. I continued, trying to be speak earnestly, “We’re going to be okay. We just need to find ways to build networks to support what’s right. Don’t loose hope. There’s a lot of good people, and it’s just a matter of finding each other. We’re all going to do what we can and it’ll amount to change over time.”

We said our goodbyes. He walked back towards his classroom at the other end of the hallway. I returned to finish re-taping the artwork.