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Planned Parenthood in Midwest America

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In the midst of a global pandemic where healthcare has been seen as more of a privilege than a right, Planned Parenthood has stood as a foundational source of healthcare for people of all walks of life. Whether seeking STD testing, contraception or cancer screening, the various services that are offered to the general public are vast, and do not require a social security card or active status of citizenship. From non-binary to cis-gendered, young to old and wealthy to indigent: Planned Parenthood has stood as a growing provider and advocate for all people in need. Though one’s race, class and gender effects their access to healthcare, Planned Parenthood primarily alleviates one’s reservations of seeking care through the perspective of class. In their trek to extend the rights of autonomy to those without the funds to claim it, Planned Parenthood has provided care to many over their century of subsistence. As I pursue my undergraduate degree in health administration with a minor in gender and sexuality studies, I find a growing interest in serving those who seek care, but struggle to receive it. I hope to pursue a law degree and work in health policy in the coming years and feel that Planned Parenthood is an important resource for community members to have access to. My friend and I travelled to five of the eight Planned Parenthoods that exist in the south side of Chicago and Northwest Indiana, taking pictures as we went.


Serving communities in all 50 states as well as virtually for those without access to a physical location expands the development of free, taxpayer funded clinics in areas that need them most. While the organization at hand clearly produces both meaningful and equitable services, their sites are usually positioned in under-served areas.


While this means that Planned Parenthoods are accessible to those who need it most, it also further emphasizes that the utilization of their services is due to larger healthcare firms deciding that their fiscal wellbeing is above those within the communities being served. Neighborhoods are underserved and their economies underutilized, with an enormous reliance on government funding for these facilities to remain open and financially stable. With bills working to defund and close Planned Parenthoods being popularized, there is a recent struggle to secure proper funding. From the Defund Planned Parenthood Act of 2019 to the restriction of Medicare and Medicaid payer funds: political entities are not only influencing the organizations’ economy, but those they are able to provide services for.


This is physically seen in What we Believe to Be Planned Parenthood, where the building, as well as the surrounding locations were abandoned or demolished. Upon arrival to the area and the search for the location that we believe to be the site of what used to be Planned Parenthood, we found remains of what was a building. In its physical ruins, there is a sense of anticipating gloom in the area. While many businesses surround the area, many are also abandoned or are run-down and falling apart.


The rough, unforgiving nature of time stands as a harsh reminder that both money and care are required in maintaining an area. Without the former, many Planned Parenthoods are lost, existing only as structures of what clearly used to be a vision and memory.


In the photos, the rough exterior of each building stands unforgivingly, with a sense of defiance. In the Orland Park, IL trio of photos, there is a sense of solemness as the surrounding buildings are barren. Even on the bustling street of LaGrange, there was still a sense of invisibility while standing in front of Planned Parenthood. Though blanketed with protesters on some days, the parking lot sat empty, with no surrounding businesses or movement in the empty plaza. Both the seeming value and moral picketing that protesters hone proudly stand out in my mind, as on many weekdays I drove past the Orland Park location without a second thought. Sitting in the parking lot of what I once saw as an inconvenience and disturbance pushes me to assess the interdependence that has woven its way into our lives.


With the desire to physically distance ourselves from even the building, there is a sense of ostracization to those entering the Planned Parenthood or seeking its services. The door, seen in each of the photo sets acts as a bridge between the eyes of the public and a safe haven. For many, it is worth crossing, with providers and resources awaiting them; the risk of judgement and recognition is a gamble that many risk enduring in order to receive care. While the signage posted on each door varied, with most having a mask and hours poster most blatantly posted; in Orland Park, IL—Door, one is able to see a safe-zone for both trans and LGBTQ+ people on the lower left corner. This stands out to me as most people who claim to be pro-life are also usually anti-LGBTQ+, which may be enrage them further to see. For these reasons, I see the door as a cautionary symbol, not only for those who are not seeking care to be courteous of the reasons


that one may walk into Planned Parenthood, but also for those with the courage to walk into the building to seek care.

Though the rough exterior and covert interior of each building spoke to us, our journey through each neighborhood also stood as a blooming message from those living within its depths.


While a city that houses an organization like Planned Parenthood can speak to the value it has brought to the community, differently may also be said.


As mentioned previously, I drove past the Orland Park Planned Parenthood on a regular basis for years. Seeing protesters there regularly, I knew that the image of Orland Park and the population of its conservative residents did not entirely agree with Planned Parenthood’s being. While this did not take place at the other locations, the trees, buildings and cracked sidewalks spoke of other things. As we snapped the Gary, IN photos, my friend and I witnessed two casual drug deals.


Even with a camera as large as mine, the men chatted away and puffed a Swisher, passing it between each other while one handed the other a small baggie. With an encounter like this underneath our belt, my friend and I continued onward after collecting our photos.


The surrounding area of Gary, as seen in the photos presented, was somber, even on a busy street. With structures that clearly existed as restaurants and apartment buildings now torn apart and in shambles, the city quietly churned away, festering in its potholes and gravel.


With a place I considered to be a beacon of resources and hope existing in just one location this way, let alone three others, I wondered whether Planned Parenthood was delivering ordinary services or inalienable rights. To be forced to choose between one’s welfare and their health is not only unreasonable, but inhumane. One can easily see that the areas in which Planned Parenthood’s exist or not beautifully kept but exist in areas where they are needed. This importance is indisputable, yet their service to a community in need is at their own hands. The non-profit statuses of their organization is just one of the reasons that they are able to continue to serve a community whose other businesses are disappearing, slowly. In every photo,


one can see that each organization is surrounded by bareness.


Even in Flossmoor or Orland Park, two cities that hone low crime and high employment rates, there is little physical association with an organization that provides healthcare and acceptance to the community it exists within.

The distance that we place between ourselves and those who help the collective society speaks volumes about the culture that we coexist with. Whether interacting with the organization at hand or simply ignoring its defunding, we each have a hand in what the future of Planned Parenthood will look like. As a future health policy attorney, I find that this organization intentionally improves our healthcare system nowadays, both financially and systemically alleviating pressure. By taking on patients who cannot pay for the services that they need or


cannot find elsewhere, Planned Parenthood acts as an alternative to a commercialized, financially driven cog machine. Free clinics are a rare breed nowadays, with the ones existing being overbooked and underfunded, their employees underpaid and overworked. Whether on a busy street or in a barren lot, the tale that Planned Parenthood told was almost shouted at us as we snapped photos. Though easily looked past, each building had its own story, hidden away within its foundation and bricks.

It welcomed us and pushed us to forget what we were surrounded by, as if to say that we were meant to be there, and we were safe. The looming building and the harsh aroma that it existed within is evident and plain in each photo. To know that we were standing before a clinic that communities were not given the privilege to have an abundance of forces me to forget about the


environment it coexisted with. The Planned Parenthood photo series is a sobering one, with not one story being told, but one thousand. In all aspects and perspectives, Planned Parenthood serves communities and those who are financially burdened by an ever-changing, demanding world. It exists within a facility where immigration status, race, history and gender identity do not matter or are not looked at as red flags, and care is provided as promised.


References: Defund Planned Parenthood Act of 2019, Congress.Gov ยง H.R.369 (2019)


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Planned Parenthood in Midwest America by ranathesheikh - Issuu