As someone who has been either uninsured or underinsured for most of my adult life, I know what it's like to be burdened by thousands of dollars in medical debt and to have to seek out routine medical care in an emergency room rather than with a primary care doctor. And as a nurse, I've seen too many patients forgo mental health services or be forced to ration their insulin because they couldn't afford the cost of treatment or medication. It's also why I fight for Medicare for All, including for easy access to comprehensive mental health services and affordable prescription drugs, because health care is a human right and must be guaranteed for everyone. (page xv)
American politician, nurse, and activist (born 1976)
Cori Anika Bush (born July 21, 1976) is an American politician, nurse, pastor, and Black Lives Matter activist serving as the U.S. representative for Missouri's 1st congressional district. She is the first African-American woman to serve in the U.S. House of Representatives from Missouri and was featured in the 2019 Netflix documentary Knock Down the House, along with three other progressive Democrats.
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We've been called radicals, terrorists. We've been dismissed as an impossible fringe movement. But now we are a multi-racial, multi-ethnic, multi-generational, multi-faith mass movement united in demanding change, in demanding accountability, in demanding that our police, our government, our country recognize that Black lives do indeed matter.
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I think my daddy bought every Black history book he could find. When we were growing up, he wanted us to know about people like Rosa Parks, Shirley Chisholm, Fannie Lou Hamer, W. E. B. Du Bois, Frederick Douglass, Marcus Garvey, Harriet Tubman, and Sojourner Truth. He believed he couldn't leave it to anyone else to teach us these things. And if we didn't know our own history, we would lose ground, he told us. We would fall back into the oppressive conditions that our ancestors had worked hard to change but many of which remain with us today. When we watched television with my dad, it was Eyes on the Prize, Roots, Shaka Zulu, or A Raisin in the Sun. These were difficult to watch oftentimes. I couldn't make sense of why the white people on the TV were angry and violent toward Black people. But I did know, even as a child, that I was going to fight back. (p 11)
two years into the Trump administration it was obvious to people why we needed unapologetic progressives in the House. The vile, white supremacist, sexist, bigoted Trump administration spewed lies, targeted Black and brown women elected officials, made a mockery of our democracy, and emboldened fascists. (p 227)
For me, reproductive justice isn't abstract. As someone who has had to end pregnancies, I know what a difference it would have made to have been met with quality, compassionate, culturally responsive care when I decided to terminate. It's part of the reason why I fight so hard for comprehensive reproductive health care, including family planning and abortion care, because I believe the right of a person to make their own decision should be protected for everyone. As a mother of two, I know what it's like to endure health complications during childbirth, to deliver a baby four months premature and watch him spend the first months of his life in the neonatal intensive care unit. It's one reason I fight so hard to end the Black maternal health crisis in our country that kills too many Black women and birthing people. (page xv)
Everything I do begins with those who have the least, who’ve suffered the worst, and who have the greatest to offer. Why? Because I myself have lived paycheck to paycheck. I struggled for years under the burden of student debt. I’ve been evicted by landlords. I’ve worried about how I was going to put food on the table for my two kids. I’ve been underinsured and uninsured. And for every one of those stories that I can tell you about my life, I know there are thousands more in our community. And those are the stories that I am carrying with me and will uplift in the People’s House as your congresswoman. It is my job now to serve you – not just lead, not just demand, but serve you. This moment is brought to us by us – by our movement for social, racial and economic justice. Now, our movement is going to Congress. And we will meet the challenges of this moment as a movement: side by side, arm in arm, and with our fists in the air – ready to serve each other until every single one of us is free.
I was that person running for my life across a parking lot, running from an abuser. I remember hearing bullets whizz past my head and at that moment I wondered: “How do I make it out of this life?” I was uninsured. I’ve been that uninsured person, hoping my healthcare provider wouldn’t embarrass me by asking me if I had insurance. I wondered: “How will I bear it?” I was a single parent. I’ve been that single parent struggling paycheck to paycheck, sitting outside the payday loan office, wondering “how much more will I have to sacrifice?”... I’ve been that Covid patient gasping for breath, wondering, “How long will it be until I can breathe freely again?” I’m still that same person... We have been surviving and grinding and just scraping by for so long, and now this is our moment to finally, finally start living and growing and thriving. So, as the first Black woman, nurse, and single mother to have the honor to represent Missouri in the United States Congress, let me just say this. To the Black women. The Black girls. The nurses. The single mothers. The essential workers. This. Is. OUR. Moment.
I wanted it to be known that you can be a regular, everyday person and do what others deem impossible. Past traumas don't have to hold you back from achieving your goals in life. Victims and survivors of assault, low-wage workers, single parents, people living with disabilities, folks who are unhoused or transient, people on EBT, WIC, or any other form of state assistance, people with credit issues, those who are incarcerated or were formerly incarcerated, those who are LGBTQIA+, and members of every marginalized group. We must not allow people to put us in the box that they put their own selves into due to insecurities, fear, envy, or their own shortcomings. Let them address those limitations in their lives, if they choose. (p 242)
It is crucial that we give individuals the skills they need to form healthy relationships. To support healthy families and communities, we need to create an antiracist society. We need reparations, distributed both as cash and as resources that can help serve Black and Indigenous students and students of color. We need to close the racial wage gap and the gender pay gap. We need to pay a living wage. During my years at Lighthouse, minimum wage was not enough. No one who is educating children should go to work worried that her electricity is going to be cut off at home. We need access to quality health care. No one should have to live through prenatal, birth, and postpartum experiences like the ones I endured. The men in my life have presented real challenges. But so has the pressure of living in a hateful society. I wish my young adulthood and my children's early years could have taken place in a different America, a better America. That's the structural change I've been working to bring about. (p 108)
It really bothers me that people will look at me and say, 'Oh, my gosh, your story is amazing and I really support you and look how far you've come. Look at all the adversity you've overcome. This is amazing! I love you.. And then when they hear somebody say something that they don't have full information on, then it's like, 'Oh, my gosh, she's being co-opted. Oh yeah, I knew it wasn't real.