Tag Archives: inequity

Sr. Thea Bowman in a featured image for Black Catholic History Month

Love With Action: Black Catholic History Month

Love With Action

Black Catholic History Offers Strength and Hope in Our Quest for Justice

Ralph McCloud
November 4, 2025

 

I met Sr. Thea Bowman a couple of times. What is there to say about meeting a living saint? It was an honor? A joy? It strengthened my faith? 

Absolutely! 

Meeting Sr. Thea challenged me in my mission as a baptized believer. Her 1989 address to the U.S. bishops is a landmark event in Black Catholic History in the United States, and I try to revisit it every November, if not more often. 

November is Black Catholic History Month, an observance that coincides with the feast of St. Martin de Porres (November 3), and the birthday of St. Augustine (November 13). It begins with All Saints and All Souls Days, which evoke the reverence for ancestors in African history. For us, this cloud of witnesses isn’t merely watching. They inspire us, help us, and hold us accountable. 

Sr. Thea still encourages me with the awareness that, in her words, a Black Catholic brings “my whole history, my traditions, my experience, my culture, my African-American song and dance and gesture and movement and teaching and preaching and healing and responsibility – as gifts to the church.” 

But gifts are not always appreciated or received with grace. She also noted: 

“I see it: Black people within the church—Black priests, sometimes even Black bishops—who are invisible. And when I say that I mean they’re not consulted. They are not included. Sometimes decisions are made that affect the Black community for generations and they’re made in rooms by white people behind closed doors.” 

Today some of the challenges we face go beyond being ignored, to blatant racism brazenly spewed by both political leaders and influencers; the gutting of voting rights and approval of racial profiling by the Supreme Court; the erasure of slavery and Civil Rights from school textbooks; and the Trump administration’s fervent, almost gleeful rush to destroy any program intended to help promote equity and inclusion. 

While the Catholic Church is among those groups that have decried the sin of racism and espoused a belief in dignity and equity for all (documented in a succession of pastoral letters by the bishops through the decades), the practical reality is often different. Racism still has a hold in the church – whether through the actions of individuals and communities or in the words, actions, or omissions of its leaders.  

When Black history and the pain of Black people get buried and watered down, it is to the detriment of all believers. Gloria Purvis expressed this brilliantly in a recent essay: 

“Our Catholic witness in America hangs in the balance. Church leaders can either acknowledge their grave error and work toward genuine reconciliation, or they can continue tacitly sanctifying racist speech and injustice. The choice will help determine whether American Catholicism finally confronts white supremacy or remains captured by the same moral blindness that has corrupted Christian witness in our country since its colonial origins.” 

Living out our faith in the context of an imperfect church—where even the best pastoral letter tend to gather dust on shelves—might require going back to the basics, to something like the Bible, to show the way. Jesus, in his radical example, acclaimed the Good Samaritan and dined with the tax collectors and sex workers. Jesus—God incarnate—didn’t hesitate to cross lines to include those who had long been excluded from full participation in society. 

Today, we have a pope who gets it. With his background that includes Black ancestors in the Caribbean, life among poor people in Peru, and the promotion of women into leadership roles, we could call Leo XIV the “DEI pope.” In his letter, Dilexi Te, Pope Leo calls us to love our marginalized neighbors with action. 

“God has a special place in his heart for those who are discriminated against and oppressed, and he asks us, his Church, to make a decisive and radical choice,” the pope proclaims. 

Applying our mission to our troubled world is a radical choice. And we can all work together to make justice, equity, and the fullness of human dignity come alive in our society. 

Growing up Black and Catholic, my siblings and I took pride in the causes of African-American men and women advancing toward sainthood. But over time, we also wondered: when will they ever move forward on that journey? These causes are now known as “the Holy Seven,” and they include Sister Thea Bowman. 

I believe we can move forward and will make progress in ways both great and small. And it is this progress, guided and cared for by the Holy Spirit, we can find the hope to persist on this long, often difficult journey toward justice. 

 

Ralph McCloudRalph McCloud is NETWORK Senior Fellow. He previously served for 16 years as Director of the Catholic Campaign for Human Development, the domestic anti-poverty program of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

Becoming, Belonging, and Beloved

Becoming, Belonging, and Beloved

Justice Demands the Freedom to Live the Truth of Who We Are Fully

Taylor Demby
October 30, 2025

 

What does it mean to live truthfully, not only for ourselves but for those who came before us and those who have yet to speak their truth? For LGBTQ+ people, this is both a celebration and a reminder that visibility is personal and political.

2025 Sr. Carol Coston Fellow Taylor Dembry

Taylor Demby

Every coming out story carries the weight of generations of struggle and courage, serving as an echo of the work of queer ancestors who risked everything so that others may live openly today. Young advocates have an ongoing responsibility to honor this legacy with faith, goodwill, and a strong commitment to justice. 

Coming out is often depicted as a single moment of revelation, but I believe it’s better understood as a continual process of becoming. For some, coming out means naming a truth aloud for the first time. For others, it means choosing honesty in spaces where silence was once the safer option. In both forms, coming out is an act that insists on dignity. The decision to live authentically directly challenges systems that depend on factors like invisibility and shame to maintain control. 

Coming out is both an inherent act of resistance and a testament to hope. Queer ancestors understood this deeply. Prominent figures like Audre Lorde, Sylvia Rivera, and Harvey Milk embodied great courage during their time, each finding revolutionary ways to blend honesty with love, protest, and compassion. They lived in eras that punished authenticity, yet their defiance came from a deeply rooted faith that truth, belonging, and acceptance would outlive fear. 

Many more whose names we may never know quietly built the foundations of the communities we depend on today; their collective belief in a freer, more accepting world that could exist outside of their lifetimes continues to shape how we respond to injustice. Honoring the legacy of queer ancestors means not only remembering their names, but also emulating their radical belief in belonging. They didn’t fight courageously to be merely tolerated, they fought to be fully embraced. 

We must understand the vital role that intersectionality plays in the perception of the LGBTQ+ community and the likelihood a queer person will be met with acceptance should they choose to come out. Intersectionality reminds us that identity, race, class, and faith shape each person’s journey differently. 

A Black or Brown queer person may face racism within queer spaces and homophobia within their cultural or religious communities. Immigrant and undocumented individuals risk family separation or legal danger when they reveal who they are. Individuals with disabilities or people living in poverty may find that the material costs of honesty are steep. Recognizing these intersections helps us keep our understanding of coming out grounded in empathy and realism. 

Approaching this legacy with faith and goodwill does not mean naive optimism. It means holding firm to the conviction that every single person deserves to be treated with dignity and care, not conditionally, not quietly, but fully. Solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community consists of dismantling the systems that treat acceptance as conditional or transactional and instead working to build a culture where everyone is free to be whole. 

This work must be carried out in every corner of our communities, from classrooms to workplaces to places of worship. On a personal level, solidarity can look like offering quiet acts of reassurance in the form of a conversation, a letter, or a shared meal. These gestures should be offered with the genuine intention of reminding friends that they are seen, valued, and entirely embraced. These acts are expressions of faith as much as they are acts of justice. 

As an advocate inspired by the principles of Catholic Social Justice, I seek to ground my advocacy work in the conviction that dignity and justice are inseparable. The common good demands that our social systems create conditions where we all can flourish. These values transcend religion and spirituality; they speak to a universal moral responsibility. When applied to the act of coming out, we’re challenged to look beyond tolerance and move toward radical acceptance; we’re challenged to build communities where authenticity isn’t met with discomfort or quiet approval, but with celebration, sincerity and care.

 

Taylor Demby is a sociology major at University of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio and a Sr. Carol Coston Fellow in NETWORK’s Young Advocates Leadership Lab (Y.A.L.L).

image of the US Capitol with a caption calling on Congress to protect health care

Hey, Congress: Care is What Really Matters

Hey, Congress: Care is What Really Matters

 

Deliberate Distractions Must Not Derail Our Efforts to Protect Health Coverage for Millions of People

Jackalope Labbe
October 29, 2025

 

Every week brings a new wave of confusion regarding health care from the Trump administration. One day, it’s HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. making unfounded claims about over-the-counter painkillers and autism. The next, it’s open skepticism about childhood vaccination schedules. At the same time, the Department of Health and Human Services touts that most people don’t need regular care. The chaos this creates serves a purpose. It is meant to dominate attention and drown out the real story.

Jackalope Labbe, a Sr. Carol Coston Fellow in NETWORK's Young Advocates Leadership Lab (Y.A.L.L.)

Jackalope Labbe

While everyone argues about medical conspiracies, some lawmakers in Congress have worked to dismantle and defund major parts of the Affordable Care Act (ACA). When public focus is fixed on fringe controversies, it becomes easier for lawmakers to push through such a devastating policy change. While the media churns out headline after headline on the newest baseless claims coming from members of the current administration, Congress is preparing to let the ACA’s enhanced premium tax credits expire.

The ACA’s premium tax credit lowered the cost of health care for millions of people by capping how much we pay for coverage on the ACA marketplace based on our income, making premiums either free or affordable for millions of low- and middle-income families. It is the only way millions of people in the U.S. can afford health care. Without this, insurance companies are surging their rates, leaving us with more expensive, less effective health care.

Since being introduced, the ACA premium tax credits have transformed access to health care in our country. Enrollment in ACA marketplace coverage hit record highs in early 2025, driving the uninsured rate to its lowest level ever. Today, more than 24 million people rely on these tax credits to afford their insurance. An estimated 4.8 million people will lose their health coverage entirely because they can no longer afford it without the premium tax credits.

These aren’t abstract numbers. They represent parents choosing between rent and insulin, young adults aging out of their parents’ plan with nowhere to turn, and rural hospitals forced to close their doors as patient numbers drop.

As frustrating as this political theater feels, anger alone won’t change minds. Our community members echoing misinformation about vaccines or Medicaid aren’t doing so out of hostility. They’re scared. Years of rising costs, confusing bureaucracy, and inaccessible care have left so many feeling alienated. When leaders exploit that fear, it breeds mistrust, making people more vulnerable to conspiracy theories that tell us the system was never meant to help anyway.

If we respond with outrage, we alienate those who could join with us. Empathy does not mean agreeing with misinformation; it means understanding the concerns that fuel it. When we center conversations around shared experiences, we remind each other that health care is a universal issue. Compassion is not weakness; it’s a strategy for rebuilding community.

Much of the misinformation flooding social media targets one of the most vulnerable emotions in the country, a mother’s fear. False claims about medications during pregnancy or routine childhood vaccines being dangerous are designed to strike where the instinct to protect intersects with trust in science. These stories circulate because they sound caring, reframing misinformation as maternal caution rather than political manipulation. This strategy is deliberate.

When fear takes hold, it erodes trust in the healthcare systems families depend on. Instead of feeling supported by doctors and public health agencies, parents feel suspicious of them. This cycle of fear doesn’t just isolate families; it weakens collective confidence in public health, making it easier for lawmakers to justify cuts to the programs that keep those same families healthy.

This government shutdown is not just another budget debate; it’s a turning point. The distractions, conspiracy theories, culture wars, and partisan gridlock are meant to make us forget where we need to focus: keeping health care accessible. This means protecting the ACA, including premium tax credits.

Every phone call to a representative, every conversation educating each other, every show of solidarity helps. The Trump administration may count on division and fatigue, but we can choose to stay centered on what matters. We cannot fall to distrust in uncertain times. We must strive for clarity. While some government officials try to use confusion to take away our care, we can refocus our attention to saving it.

 

Jackalope Labbe is a social work and history major at College of Our Lady of the Elms in Chicopee, MA and a Sr. Carol Coston Fellow in NETWORK’s Young Advocates Leadership Lab (Y.A.L.L).

photo of San Antonio's market square, the largest Mexican market in the U.S.

Hispanic Heritage Means Resilience Against Injustice

Hispanic Heritage Means Resilience Against Injustice

 

Policies of Exclusion Inflict Lasting Mental and Physical Harm on Hispanic Communities

Taylor Demby
October 14, 2025

 

For Hispanic Heritage Month (September 15-October 15), NETWORK’s Sr. Carol Coston Fellows share their thoughts on the importance of this observance in the U.S. This reflection comes from University of the Incarnate Word student Taylor Demby.

Taylor Demby, a sociology major at the University of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio, Texas and a 2025 Sr. Carol Coston Fellow in NETWORK's Young Advocates Leadership Lab (Y.A.L.L.)

Taylor Demby

Hispanic Heritage Month is a time to celebrate the richness, resilience, and many contributions of Hispanic and Latino communities across the United States. This month is especially personal to me as a San Antonian and as an ally. Having grown up in a city where Hispanic culture shapes nearly every neighborhood, classroom, and workplace, I have experienced firsthand how essential the Hispanic community is to the fabric of our daily life.

Both in and out of September, it is imperative that we take a moment to honor this cultural legacy that continues to influence every corner of American life. As we honor heritage and achievement, we cannot continue to ignore a serious concern: the rising mental health crises deeply affecting Hispanic communities, intensified by the relentless attacks and exclusionary policies that have shaped their lived experiences in this country.

Data from the CDC’s 2023 Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report indicate a troubling trend: suicide rates among Hispanic individuals in the U.S. increased by 10 percent between 2018 and 2021, while rates for non-Hispanic White individuals declined over the same period. Behind these numbers lie the experiences of families and neighbors: each one reflecting a real human reality shaped by systemic discrimination, the emotional toll of ongoing injustice, and the daily challenges faced by a community trying to navigate a society that continues to overlook and undermine them.

I work at one of the few outpatient behavioral health facilities in San Antonio that accepts Medicaid. In my work, I encounter both the resilience of and the struggles that Hispanic families face when seeking mental health care. Many caregivers advocate fiercely for their children, yet they face barriers that others rarely encounter. Long waitlists, limited insurance coverage, lack of transportation, unforgiving work schedules, and the stigma surrounding mental health can make accessing care extraordinarily difficult. Their persistence inspires me, but it also emphasizes the urgent need for federal policies that expand Medicaid access, reduce wait times and ensure culturally competent, affordable care for all Hispanic families.

Across the country, families face the compounded effects of systemic inequities, limited access to healthcare, and the stress of navigating anti-immigrant policies. These struggles are widespread yet often hidden, reminding us that celebration alone is not enough. We must pair this recognition with meaningful action to create the change our communities need. To me, honoring Hispanic heritage means taking the time to recognize the full spectrum of experiences that shape communities.

In my home state of Texas, where heavy anti-immigrant sentiment and ultra-exclusionary policies have persisted for generations, these challenges are especially apparent. Students at my own university and across the Bexar County area are not immune to this. In San Antonio, reckless immigration policies and cuts enacted through the recent Budget Reconciliation Bill continue to disproportionately affect Hispanic families, impacting workplaces, classrooms, and homes.

These realities highlight the urgent need for culturally sensitive support, accessible care, and open dialogue about mental health and our healthcare system as a whole. By bringing these issues to the forefront, we can mobilize our communities and work to hold legislators and decision-makers accountable, ensuring that the policies introduced protect and uplift Hispanic families rather than harm them.

Hispanic Heritage Month offers advocates and allies like me a unique opportunity to pair celebration with action. Investing in the health and dignity of Hispanic families builds a stronger, more equitable future for all families, regardless of race or class. The forces driving inequity expand across race and region, hurting working people everywhere, and the solutions we fight for benefit us all.

Honoring Hispanic heritage requires confronting these uncomfortable truths: that within the great stories of strength, resilience, and perseverance live the often-unspoken realities of distress, trauma, and pain associated with inequity. We should do more than remember the past. We must contribute to culturally sensitive dialogue that affirms a principle central to my work as an advocate inspired by Catholic Social Justice teaching: human dignity. Every human being possesses inherent dignity and deserves the support to live fully and authentically, without barriers.

Learn more about NETWORK’s Young Advocates Leadership Lab (Y.A.L.L).