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The Hidden History of Latina Women’s Health

Updated: Feb 18

Unveiling the Hidden History Part 1

Lessons from the Past

By Venus Gines, Founder, Dia de la Mujer Latina



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For generations, the stories of Latina women’s health have been whispered around kitchens tables, written in journals, and carried in the hearts of daughters who vowed never to forget. My mother, Rosa, was one of these women. In the Spanish Harlem of 1957, as a twenty-eight-year-old single Puerto Rican mother, she was coerced into sterilization—a procedure she was falsely told was reversible. It wasn’t. Rosa’s voice, like so many others, was silenced by a system that saw her as a statistic, not a person. It was also a system that wanted to control her, especially her reproductive system.


         What happened to Rosa wasn’t an isolated incident. It was part of a broader, hidden history—a legacy of exploitation and control that stretches from oppressive laws like the 1873 Comstock Act that criminalized women’s access to reproductive health information to the clinics of Puerto Rico in the 1950s where women were experimented on without their consent. These injustices are more than historical footnotes; they are lessons, written in pain, that demand to be learned.


         This is the hidden history of Latina women’s health—a story of exploitation and manipulation, but also a story of resilience and resistance. Such a history urges us to confront the past as we create a future where equity and dignity are not aspirations, but realities. This effort to unveil “herstories" is dedicated to my granddaughter Isabella Venus Ginés, as a way for her to remember the inspirational family stories of strong women who fought, and continue to fight, for women’s health autonomy. 


Weaponizing Morality and Exploiting Puerto Rican Women: A Legacy of Reproductive Control

The movement to control women’s reproductive autonomy has deep roots, and Latina women have been both participants in and victims of this crusade. Although the movement began in the late 19th century, it gained prominence in the 20th century when policymakers grew alarmed by declining birth rates among white Anglo-Saxon Protestant (WASP) women.


At the same time, Catholic and Jewish immigrant families were expanding, leading to fears of “race suicide” among the dominant ruling class. This fear created fertile ground for efforts to restrict women’s reproductive rights and control minority populations.

In 1873, Anthony Comstock, a self-proclaimed crusader against "vice," successfully lobbied for the Comstock Act, which criminalized the dissemination of contraceptive information and materials. While cloaked in moral reform, the Act served as a tool to suppress women’s autonomy and disproportionately affected marginalized communities, including Puerto Rican and Mexican women. These policies fostered a culture of ignorance and vulnerability, particularly for women who were already silenced by systemic inequities.


In 1883, ten years after the Comstock Act became law, social commentators coined a new word, “eugenics.” Simply defined, it was later explained as “more of the fit, less of the unfit.” The “fit” embraced white Anglo-Saxon Protestants, while the Latin community (and other minorities) fell into the “unfit” category.


As a nurse, Margaret Sanger wrote that her advocacy of birth control grew out of her work with immigrant women who died as a result of “botched” abortions. By the post-World War II period, pharmaceutical companies worked to fulfill the dream of a birth control pill. But all new drugs need to be tested. To do that, some powerful forces exploited Latina women. On the island of Puerto Rico, an American territory, advocates of eugenics partnered with pharmaceutical companies to test contraceptive drugs

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Puerto Rico: A Testing Ground for Control

As an American territory, Puerto Rico became a laboratory for experiments aimed at controlling women’s reproduction. From the 1930s to the 1970s, U.S. policymakers framed overpopulation as a crisis on the island, and sterilization was promoted as the solution. Initially presented as voluntary family planning, the sterilization campaign soon became coercive. Women were often misled into believing the procedure was temporary, with many realizing too late that it was permanent. For generations, these women were robbed of their reproductive autonomy, their bodies used as data points for research.


Simultaneously, the island became the epicenter of unethical clinical trials for the first oral contraceptive. Researchers Dr. Gregory Pincus and Dr. John Rock, funded by advocates of eugenics and pharmaceutical companies, tested the pill on Puerto Rican women. These trials ignored ethical standards, including informed consent. Many of the women involved were illiterate and were not told the experimental nature of the drug or its potential risks. Side effects such as severe nausea, blood clots, and even death were dismissed as acceptable collateral damage. The suffering of these women was erased as the pill was celebrated globally for revolutionizing reproductive freedom.


Lessons from the Past, Actions for the Future

The history of reproductive abuse against Latina women is not merely a relic of the past but a warning for the future. The Comstock Act, the coerced sterilizations in Puerto Rico, and the unethical clinical trials reveal a pattern of systemic disregard for informed consent and cultural competence. These injustices contribute to lingering healthcare disparities, such as higher rates of cervical cancer and mistrust in medical institutions among Latinas.


To prevent history from repeating itself, we must demand accountability from medical and governmental institutions, advocate for informed consent policies, and prioritize culturally competent care. Organizations like Día de la Mujer Latina are leading the way, empowering Latinas through education, advocacy, and community health initiatives.


We cannot undo the harm inflicted on past generations, but we can ensure their stories are heard, their pain acknowledged, and their resilience celebrated. The hidden history of Latina women’s health is a testament to survival and strength, compelling us to build a future rooted in justice, equity, and the unwavering belief that every woman has the right to control her own body.

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