A speaker, seated at a desk on a city street, recounts the 1916 police raid of America's first birth control clinic in Brownsville, Brooklyn. He details the story of its founders, particularly the lesser-known immigrant activist Fania Mindell, and connects their struggle to the modern-day maternal health crisis in the same neighborhood. The speaker uses historical photos and documents to illustrate his points, presents statistics on racial disparities in maternal mortality, and concludes by proposing specific policy solutions as part of his political platform.
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UNTIL IT’S DONE, Ep. 2: Fania Mindell
When the Brownsville Clinic opened in 1916, it was the first birth control center in America. Its very existence felt impossible. For young women, it was a lifeline.
109 years later, the Clinic is long closed—but Brownsville mothers are still struggling.
Transcript
At 2PM on 10/26/1916, the vice squad raided this unassuming building behind me. It took only a few minutes for officers to emerge, their arms full of confiscated contraceptives. Trailing them were three women in handcuffs, protesting loudly. One of them was Fania Mindell. The Brownsville clinic had been open for all of ten days before it was shut down, but those ten days were historic. This was the first birth control clinic in America. Its very existence was revolutionary. The women arrested were the clinic's founders. Two of them were well known, Ethel Byrne and her sister Margaret Sanger, who later founded Planned Parenthood before embracing eugenics. But few know about their partner, Fania, a 22 year old woman freshly arrived from Minsk, not yet an American citizen. Mindell was fluent in the Yiddish that many women spoke on these streets, and she translated pamphlets into words they could understand. When over 100 women visited the clinic on its opening day, it was because Mindell had shown them the way. In 1916, Brownsville was one of the poorest neighborhoods in New York. Birth control and abortion were illegal, and unwanted pregnancies were common among the young immigrants who lived here. Those who walked through the clinic's doors were taking a huge risk, but they had nowhere else to turn. A hundred and nine years later, Brownsville has changed. Instead of Jewish and Italian immigrants, this community is predominantly black today, yet much remains the same. Brownsville is the poorest neighborhood in Brooklyn, and still, too many mothers have nowhere to turn. No neighborhood has a higher rate of pregnancy associated deaths than Brownsville. A hundred and forty six point nine of every one hundred thousand live births. That pain isn't limited to Best Brooklyn. Black women in New York are nine times more likely to die of pregnancy related causes than white women. None of this is accidental. While Fania Mindell extended care to all New Yorkers, others, like Sanger, believed that only some people were fit to have children. The racism that clouded the birth control movement permeated deep into maternal health. To this day, we reckon with the lasting toll it inflicted. We have the power to stop this suffering. My administration will provide new mothers with baby baskets proven to improve health outcomes and expand home visit programs to coordinate postpartum care, and will make midwives and doula care more accessible. After Fania Mindell was driven to jail, I imagine a heavy silence hung low here at 46 Amboy Street. It was the silence of a question unanswered. Who now would look out for those struggling the most? We can answer that question in our time together.