Reproductive rights in the Old South

Beautifully written, Take My Hand is the harrowing story of a home healthcare nurse in 1973 Montgomery, Alabama, who uncovers a government plan to sterilize poor, young Black girls whose families receive welfare benefits.

Dr. Civil Townsend, ready to retire, embarks on a road trip to visit the sisters she once cared for as a young nurse. On this journey, she grapples with her decisions.

In 1973, when no one advocated for the well-being of impoverished families, Civil Townsend blew the whistle on the government when she discovered the systemic sterilization of prepubescent girls.

Told in the first person, Civil, fresh out of nursing school, wants nothing more than to make a difference in her community. The clinic where she started her career assigned her to administer birth control to her young patients.

At first, she thinks nothing of it—it’s all routine—until the clinic sends her to the home of India and Erica, whose family lives in a one-room shack on a dusty road. She thinks it’s a clerical error when she meets India, 11, and Erica, 13. The girls have never even kissed a boy, much less been sexually active. But Civil uncovers a horrible truth when she sets out to understand why these little girls are being administered robust birth control when they’ve yet to get their periods.

What I love about this story is the sense of hope throughout Civil’s journey. She gets to the truth and fights against all odds to right the injustices the government committed against her patients. Civil never quits.

Perkins-Valdez also injects personal conflict into Civil’s life. The story doesn’t just revolve around her patients. But because Civil comes from a well-to-do family, the comparisons between her options and those of her patients are stark in the divide between rich and poor.

This novel evokes anger toward a system that would remove everyday options from impoverished people of color afforded to people with means. Whether to have children is the most sacred freedom one has. Yet today, it teeters on the edge of the trench between the haves and the have-nots. For so many impoverished people, the difference between receiving reproductive healthcare can, in so many cases, mean death. Regardless of creed, race, or socioeconomic standing, reproductive rights are human rights.

Excellent read.