The Independent Florida Alligator

Roe in Review

GAINESVILLE

The crisis pregnancy center dilemma: Taxes fund medically dubious local clinics
Faith integral to views on abortion post-Roe
Local artists channel rage over Roe through their craft
Gainesville punk rock band Antagonizör tackles abortion access
Photo

Photo by Rae Riiska

Sira, a crisis pregnancy center in Gainesville,
is pictured Friday, Oct. 14, 2022.

The crisis pregnancy center dilemma: Taxes fund medically dubious clinics

Patron recounts religious pressure from Sira employees

By Aidan Bush

A light wooden fence and rounded shrubs separate the local Planned Parenthood from its opponent, Sira Gainesville. But the divide isn’t just physical — it’s ideological.

Jennifer Boylan found herself on Sira’s side of the fence in 2018 as she went seeking help with her pregnancy. Her experience was anything but helpful, she said, as employees were quick to pressure her into keeping her pregnancy after an initial ultrasound.

“They told me very specifically that my aborted child would go to heaven, but I would not if I got an abortion," Boylan said.

Sira advertises itself as a pregnancy testing and counseling clinic, providing screenings and informing potential mothers about their options, according to its website.

However, the center, along with other facilities called crisis pregnancy centers across the U.S., has faced backlash from residents and former attendees who allege it pushes misleading medical information and religious agendas to pregnant women.

Due to its proximity to the local Planned Parenthood, some allege Sira and other centers across the state actively target women seeking abortion, positioning themselves next to abortion clinics to grab confused patients. This is true across the U.S., too, as many centers station themselves near abortion clinics to intercept patrons.

Sira is one of three Gainesville crisis pregnancy centers — or anti-abortion pregnancy clinics — that is still regularly active. Florida alone has under 100 centers according Florida Pregnancy Care Network, in comparison to an estimated 55 abortion-preforming clinics according to Floridians for Reproductive Freedom.

Multiple Sira administrative members were contacted via phone and social media but couldn’t be reached. This included Sira’s main office, Medical Director Richard Brazzel, Executive Director Katherine Gratto, Nurse Manager Bonnie Corona and Director of Client Services Marlene Gardner.

One criticism often levied toward crisis pregnancy centers is they often see funding from the state, while in Florida, abortion centers like Planned Parenthood have been defunded since 2016. Florida has funneled $43 million in tax dollars to crisis pregnancy centers since 2010, according to an Associated Press report.

In its responses to online reviews claiming it gets tax dollars, Sira claims to be “donor-funded."

Despite this, Sira received $9,380 in government grants, according to its 2020 tax return forms. The majority of its funding still comes from fundraising events and donors.

Boylan, now a mother, kept a detailed written account of her experience immediately after leaving the clinic. While she was initially assured no religious discussion would happen, Boylan said religious conversation quickly escalated.

Employees told her an abortion could cause her boyfriend to leave, she said. They made abortions sound dangerous and told Boylan she would have to “face God" in the event she had an abortion, she said, despite never stating she was considering one.

Boylan planned on carrying out her pregnancy to term prior to visiting, so she said Sira didn’t influence her decision. But the religious rhetoric from staff about miscarriages she had bothered her.

“Deciding for me that I should think about those pregnancy losses as child losses is a way to increase the pain women feel when that happens," Boylan said.

A seemingly state-level survey was provided to Boylan initially, but toward the end of her visit after the staff had religious discussion, they told her she didn’t need to fill it out and crossed out her survey, she said.

In Boylan’s survey, the first paragraph prohibits the discussion of religion under the Florida Pregnancy Support Services Program, which funds crisis pregnancy centers across the state, including Sira, according to photos obtained by The Alligator.

“No religious discussion or prayer is permitted during FPSSP services," the survey read.

Over time, more people have become vocal against crisis pregnancy centers, citing a lack of medical staff and general unethical tactics employed by employees.

Elliot Kozuch, a spokesperson for political action committee NARAL Pro-choice America, said the centers often lie or misrepresent abortion options and how far along people are in their pregnancy.

“Often these big health clinics offer very little medical services, and sometimes will even intentionally deceive pregnant people into coming into their office," Kozuch said.

Sira operates as a nonprofit organization, not a medical center, according to their tax forms. For other similar centers, those counseling pregnant women can lack medical certification. Sira has at least one listed certified doctor in its medical staff.

To provide ultrasounds, centers are required to have a licensed sonographer. Sira does perform limited ultrasounds at their facility.

Regulations are more lenient for these centers as well. Non-licensed centers aren’t held to client regulations normal clinics see under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act. This includes keeping one’s medical records private, among other decisions.

HIPAA laws also require regulated clinics like Planned Parenthood to provide alternatives to abortion, especially in regard to religious objections by patients.

Kai Christmas, regional organizer for Alachua County’s Planned Parenthood center, said even when crisis pregnancy centers do have medical professionals, there’s no guarantee an attendee is speaking to one.

“Individual centers may have a doctor listed on their website, but we don't actually know if that doctor is even the one that sees patients," Christmas said.

For Boylan, this meant receiving inaccurate information about her abortion options. Officials at Sira implied she was further along than she was and couldn’t get an abortion, Boylan said. She recalled being shown inaccurate diagrams of fetuses too.

“It was like a little nesting doll of babies," Boylan said.

Robert Fleischmann works as the national director of New Beginnings — A Home for Mothers and Christian Life Resources, which are religious organizations focused on supporting pregnant women and providing Christian information on scientific issues.

Between the two, he oversees almost a dozen crisis pregnancy centers across five states. Fleischmann’s centers are upfront with their religious component, he said, and staff weren’t allowed to lie about abortion options as it would go against their faith.

“We do not claim to be a medical clinic," Fleischmann said. “We don’t claim to be a clinic at all."

The same isn’t true of Sira, which has no mention of religion on its website. Yet, voicemails Sira sent to Boylan include mentions of Christian prayer and themes.

Crisis pregnancy centers can provide additional resources beyond pregnancy counseling — one of Fleischmann’s programs provides low-income mothers five years of lodging and food, as well as educational programs to help them receive careers.

“Ideologically, that means if you’re hungry we want to feed you, if you’re homeless we want to make sure you’re taken care of," Fleischmann said.

With regulatory, financial and ideological differences, the division between Sira and Planned Parenthood seem to lie further beyond simple property lines.

Christian Casale contributed to this report.

Contact Aidan at abush@alligator.org. Follow him on Twitter @aidandisto.

Graphic

Graphic by Namari Lock

Faith integral to views on
abortion post-Roe

Jewish, Muslim residents feel left out

By Alexa Herrera

Stepping off the plane, Jillian Melinek's phone was spammed with notifications: Roe v. Wade overturned. Her stomach and heart dropped, and she immediately thought of her faith.

The reversal contradicts her faith as a Jewish woman — the life of the mother is valued above everything, and life doesn’t begin at conception. Along with thoughts about what this meant for her religious practices, her mind strayed to other anxieties.

“I had to think: Did I remember to take my birth control yesterday?" she said.

Religion is often thought of as a reason to be anti-abortion, but views on the matter vary widely among different doctrines. Even for people within the same religious groups who consider themselves devout, their perspectives on abortion aren’t a monolith.

Melinek, a Jewish 21-year-old UF psychology and women’s studies senior, said she attributes her pro-choice stance to her faith, which primarily values the well-being of the mother’s life. A fetus is not considered a full human being, according to the Torah and Jewish law.

In Florida, a 15-week abortion ban was implemented July 1 — when it immediately faced protest and legal challenges due to alleged violations of privacy and religious freedom.

Three rabbis, two reverends and a Buddhist lama from across Florida each filed separate lawsuits against the state over its ban for breaching their right to religious freedom. Another lawsuit from a South Florida synagogue over the 15-week abortion ban was filed in June. Melinek said she was happy the synagogue decided to sue Florida — it helped her solidify her decision about supporting abortion rights.

Most Jewish people believe if the mother’s life is at risk during pregnancy, then they should opt to save the mother through an abortion, Melinek said. It ultimately depends on how conservative one is within Judaism, she said.

Life doesn’t begin at conception for many Jewish people, Melinek said, which falls at odds with many other anti-abortion, religious people.

In Judaism, under normal circumstances, it’s considered wrong to get an abortion depending on the stage of pregnancy. Before six months of pregnancy, abortion can be acceptable when the health of the mother is jeopardized, but a rabbi should be consulted.

In Islam, abortion is a complicated topic that also depends on how conservative the person is, said Saeed Khan, a 78-year-old Muslim Gainesville resident.

The acceptance of abortion depends on which school of thought a person follows, Khan said.

The retired UF medicine professor said there are varied views from different Islamic branches of Islam that have their own Qur’anic interpretation.

“The states are not supposed to favor one religion over another," he said. “But, what they are doing is following one very Christian interpretation of when life begins."

Muslim people heavily rely on what the circumstances are to make a decision regarding abortion, he said. The life of the mother has utmost importance, he said, so if her life is in jeopardy, abortion can be acceptable.

Getting an abortion also depends on how many days have passed since conception. In the first 120 days after conception, Muslims consider the fetus to be a physical entity without a soul, so abortion is acceptable, Kahn said. But, after 120 days, it has a soul and abortion is harder to justify.

There are exceptions for situations such as rape or a fetal anomaly, he added.

In reflecting on Roe’s overturn, Kahn said he found the decision to be a dangerous move by the U.S. Supreme Court.

“It opens a Pandora's box as well," he said.

The court didn’t follow precedent in the case, Kahn said, and he fears other human rights decisions will be overturned regarding racism.

Christianity is no different in terms of the variety of beliefs followers can have on abortion.

Because there are so many Christian denominations, a single answer to whether abortion is acceptable is hard to pinpoint.

Kolby Golliher is a pastor at Wesley United Methodist Church in Gainesville who supports abortion rights, but he said there are a diverse range of beliefs about abortion within the Methodist community.

Traditionally, the Methodist opinion claims abortion isn’t acceptable unless there are dangerous health conditions, according to the United Methodist Church .

The church encourages ministries to reduce unintended pregnancies through sex education and advocacy for contraceptive devices, according to their website.

Although the majority stance of the community is anti-abortion, Golliher expects that it’ll change over the next decade, he said.

“I wouldn’t want other religions' views imposed on me," he said. “So why would I want to do that to somebody else?"

He said he recognizes he’s a straight white male, so he defers to his female colleagues to talk about abortion and wants to connect people who are considering abortion with helpful resources, he said.

“As a faith leader who isn’t a woman, I try to elevate the voices of those who are affected by this particular topic," Golliher said.

Anna Swygert, director of community engagement at Gator Wesley Foundation, said she’s in support of abortion rights, too.

Swygert, 27, had a friend who had an abortion but was scared to tell people in the church, she said. That situation made her think of how difficult it is to talk about abortion and how the church could be doing more to educate its followers, Swygert said.

“The role the church has played in creating the sphere of silence about sex and not properly educating, specifically [with] teenagers, about what safe sex looks like has made me a lot more pro-choice," she said.

Abortion can be a difficult decision for people to make, Swygert said. For someone who’s pregnant, they have to figure out what it would mean to have a baby.

“I am very supportive of people just having autonomy over their bodies because I think people can make the best decisions for themselves," she said.

Other religions like unitarian universalism are more explicitly in support of abortion rights.

Unitarian universalism welcomes people of all religions and helps them learn about different religions, according to the Unitarian Universalist Association.

The Rev. Christie Lunsford of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Gainesville said members of the religion respect everybody’s right to their own opinion on abortion. This comes from the fundamental value that every individual has the right of autonomous choice.

The church is doing a lot of work around abortion rights by calling members and other people to vote, Lunsford said. Religions have political platforms, but they shouldn’t because there should be a separation of church and state, Lunsford said.

“I don’t like the platform they use," Lunsford said. “I wish they would just use the polls."

Contact Alexa Herrera at aherrera@alligator.org. Follow her on Twitter @alexaherrera,

Photo

Photo by Sophia Abolfathi

Charlotte Newman and her protest piece “Women’s Reproductive Health 2022," which features nine steel knitting needles and a pink string representing the fragility of women’s rights in the Supreme Court’s hands, are pictured Saturday, Nov. 19, 2022.

Local artists channel rage over Roe through their craft

Art was exhibited at Gainesville Fine Arts Association

By Luna Boales

The history of abortion access in the United States is tinged with resistance. What now can sometimes be accomplished through a pill was once reliant on wire hangers and knitting needles — procedures that often unfolded behind closed doors.

Two Gainesville residents have shone a spotlight on this storied history, but instead of expressing their outrage through organized protest, they’ve turned toward a different medium: art.

Roe v. Wade was overturned June 24 in the Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization decision, reversing the 50-year federal protection of abortions and leaving abortion access in the hands of states’ laws. Following the court ruling, two Gainesville artists used painting and sculpture work as an outlet for their post-Roe protest.

Charlotte Newman, a 71-year-old activist and conceptual artist, is one of these artists. Most of her pieces, Newman said, tend to have a political message behind them. She has previously done war pieces on Operation Desert Storm and other feminist pieces unrelated to abortion rights. Abortion rights have been one of the newest themes in her collection, as they’re important to her because women aren’t truly free in a society without the ability to control reproduction, she said.

“Women should be able to decide when and if they want to have a family," she said. “ And without that basic protection to just control when and if you'll have children has ramifications throughout all women's abilities to live an autonomous life."

Newman produced three pieces inspired by the overturn of Roe — two of which were showcased at a Gainesville Fine Arts Association exhibition in August.

“The Supreme Court 2022," the first piece exhibited by the GFAA, features nine black hangers, one for each member of the Supreme Court. She chose hangers as the focal point of the piece because they’re a commonly used instrument for unsafe, at-home abortions and a symbol of the abortion rights movement, Newman said.

“The Supreme Court has now decided to restrict reproductive health care, and we've gone backwards," she said. “That symbol, I think, resonates with women who remember the time before Roe v. Wade."

She also left postcards depicting “The Supreme Court 2022" around the Civic Media Center and at the GFAA for people to pick up and learn more, she said.

The second of Newman’s GFAA-exhibited pieces is “Women’s Reproductive Health 2022." The sculpture is composed of nine six-foot metal spikes resembling knitting needles — one for each member of the Supreme Court members who voted on Dobbs. A pink string drapes down and in between the needles.

Knitting needles are another instrument used to perform illegal abortions, Newman said. The pink string, she said, represents the delicacy of a woman’s life — and how it can be completely altered by the Supreme Court ruling.

“I think that one is a little more in your face, a little more violent," Newman said. “But it does represent what happens — people will die because of the Dobbs decision."

Newman also took to social media to speak out against the overturn of Roe.

On the Fourth of July, 10 days after the Supreme Court decision was made, she posted a photo to Instagram featuring a wire hanger spotted with yellow music notes, smiley faces and the words “Have a Happy Day."

“Celebrating the Fourth of July on a day we are less free," the caption read.

She got the hanger from the dry cleaners and found it ironic, she said, because while the isolated message of “Have a Happy Day" was optimistic, the political climate and symbolism of the wire hanger cast it in a more somber light.

Stephanie Birch, a 34-year-old mixed media artist, has been making protest art since 2020. Throughout June and July, her piece “Swallow the Goddamn Pill" was on display at the GFAA. At more than seven feet tall, the piece featured two pill-shaped poster board cutouts attached to a Wiffle bat. The text on the pills reads: “Say yes to safe abortions! I did." It also prompts people to mark the pill if they had an abortion themselves or assisted someone who had one.

The piece, she said, was to display that she personally had an abortion, as did many other nameless individuals. It was a way of showing abortion isn’t a taboo thing, she added, and she figured her piece would encourage people to talk about abortion more openly.

“The message I was trying to get across was that I'm here, I'm in support of this safe medical procedure," she said. “I've had one and I am calling on you folks in the community."

The piece was originally created for the Bans Off Our Bodies march, which took place in May, Birch said, where she carried the sign along with markers. Fellow protestors who previously had an abortion or knew someone who did marked the pill.

“Over time, the pill became marked with a representation of people in the community," Birch said. “This also impacts our own community, and we need to be cognizant of that when we're having these discussions and making these really important decisions."

The overall goal of the piece, Birch said, was for people to look at it and realize abortions are more common than they think, and taking away abortion access can change the outcome of many lives.

It’s a call for action too, Birch said. The piece was made with the intention to encourage people to come forward if they had an abortion or assisted someone in getting one and show solidarity to get rid of the stigma around abortions, she added.

“In the eyes of a lot of people — a lot of our neighbors — we are criminals by virtue of having this very important and necessary medical procedure," Birch said.

Contact Luna Boales at lboales@alligator.org. Follow her twitter @LunaBoales.

Photo

Photo by Rae Riiska

Michelle Nuñez, 34, drummer for the band Antagonizor, plays at the band’s practice at the MiniMaxi Warehouse Monday, Oct. 17, 2022.

Gainesville punk rock band Antagonizör tackles abortion access

Charged lyrics reflect discontent with overturn of Roe

By Averi Kremposky

If the public tunes out the conversation on abortion, local three-piece punk rock band Antagonizör will bring it to them through the music they play.

Inspired by classic D-beat bands like Discharge and Anti Cimex, musicians Tzu-Wei Peng, Sarah Von Nacht and Michelle Nuñez confide in the punk genre's ability to bridge music and activism — tackling issues such as Florida’s conservative politics and, more recently, the Supreme Court’s overturn of Roe v. Wade.

Unlike other mediums of expression, music is an outlet that begs to be listened to — and Peng doesn’t take that for granted.

“On Facebook, your friends have different views, and if you talk about it too much, your friend can just silence you," Peng, 30, said. “But in music, you just don’t care."

The group originally met through mutual friends in Orlando, where one fateful jam session sealed the deal on the punk-rock triad. Together, they realized music could be fun, cathartic and persuasive.

Gainesville boasts its own rich punk rock scene, drawing thousands each year to FEST, an underground punk rock and pop-punk music festival that recently celebrated its 20th anniversary

Since moving to the city two years ago, Peng started pursuing her second bachelor’s degree in industrial biotechnology at Santa Fe College, Von Nacht, 30, became an entomology graduate student at UF and Nuñez, 34, started working for the city as a landscaper. But the trio doesn’t let their busy schedules obstruct them from being the intersection of rock and reproductive rights.

Punk music sits apart from other music genres due to its politically charged lyrics and its historical inclination to tackle taboo topics — manifesting in songs like “God Save the Queen" by 1970s British punk band the Sex Pistols and “American Idiot" by Green Day.

Antagnizör, too, goes beyond just dangling its feet over this cliff of a custom — instead, leaping completely into the chasm of activism.

Made up of three women, the band has been personally affected by the June overturn of Roe v. Wade, and Peng, Von Nacht and Nuñez haven’t shied away from expressing their discontent through song.

“It’s important, because it is a life or death issue for women," Von Nacht said. “Because for some women, getting pregnant is kind of like a death sentence."

Birmkire’s sentiments are translated into an unabashed ballad the musician wrote over the summer while in Europe. The song, called “My Choice," expands on her repugnance toward male opinions about abortion rights and the hypocrisy of the anti-abortion agenda, she said.

The song opens with the lyrics, “It fills me with rage that we live in an age where a man gets to choose what happens in my womb," and culminates in a chorus that states, “It is not murder to kill the unborn, I don’t understand why this country’s so torn. Why should I care about a clump of cells? You’re not my god, you can’t send me to hell."

The words on paper gain new life when Von Nacht’s classic raspy yell compliments Peng’s salient bass line and Nuñez’s energetic drum beat — almost as if the trio was feeling every emotion simultaneously.

“It’s mostly like yelling back in the face of all people trying to control a woman," Von Nacht said.

While “My Choice" is meant to critique, Antagonizör’s discography contains an assortment of songs meant to inspire listeners to act out against perceived injustice, Peng said.

“Some people just need a push," Peng said. “Sometimes, they’re like ‘Oh, I don’t want to go out and protest.’ They need something to be like ‘OK, let’s go.’"

When they’re not working, writing songs or playing shows, the trio can be found on street corners around Gainesville brandishing posters advocating for women’s rights and bodily autonomy. They often join protests organized by Gainesville’s chapter of the National Women’s Liberation, a feminist group for women who want to fight back against male supremacy.

In October, the band was featured in an NWL benefit concert called “Abortion Without Apology" — an annual fundraiser show that raised money to sustain the organization’s work. Since 2014, the event has historically been held in January to celebrate the anniversary of Roe v. Wade.

Now, for the first time, that celebration has turned into mourning.

The concert was dedicated to “dreaming big and making big demands," according to the NWL website. The organization wanted to emphasize the idea that, even under Roe, there were still many barriers between people and birth control — including stigma, cost and access.

As a married couple, Von Nacht and Peng said they worry about the precedent set by Roe’s swift overturn and what the future holds. The pair is concerned about marriage legislation and their ability to adopt children, Von Nacht said.

“This goes to show how quickly and easily the government can overturn legislation that’s been in place for 50 years or more," she said.

Antagonizör’s sentiments are transparent through both action and song: Women belong everywhere men do, Nuñez said, like at work, on the stage and certainly in the room where decisions are made.

This also includes her maintenance job where she said it’s strange to see another woman. It’s a testament to the way women in every sector are underrepresented, including rock ‘n’ roll, she said.

Von Nacht recalls the days in her metal band when shows became less about her musical talent and more about what recommendations men could give her on how to play better and what equipment to buy.

The band’s hopeful their thunderous sound and stirring lyrics can be a small part of erasing the stigma of women in music and advocating for a world where they reclaim the right to their body, Von Nacht said.

“We should have the right to be able to do whatever we want with our bodies, medically," Von Nacht said. “There shouldn’t be a government mandate saying we can't."

Contact Averi at akremposky@alligator.org. Follow her on Twitter @averijkremposky.