hortly after I finished my study abroad in Ireland, the country became the first to legalize same-sex marriage by popular referendum, and the government passed the most liberal gender identity law in the European Union. At the same time, if one went into the women’s washrooms on University College Dublin’s campus and knew where to look, there were illicit notes and instructions on how to get unregulated, unsafe and illegal abortion pills. Or, walking in the busy student center, it was easy enough to overhear a girl whispering to a friend about how to get a cheap ticket to Liverpool for an abortion, but to not forget to withdraw enough cash in pounds to pay for the procedure. Yes, while Ireland has rapidly advanced in terms of LGTBQ equality and support, abortion—for nearly every case, even if the mother’s life is at risk—remains illegal.

This conundrum reminds me of my mother, a second-wave feminist whose main interest has to do with reproductive rights, such as protecting Roe v. Wade. Actually, it reminds me of her Twitter feed on the day the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage as a fundamental, constitutional right. She had retweeted the celebratory comments, the breaking news articles and my incredibly unfunny joke about Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg voguing up and down the court in celebration. But there was one Tweet in particular that caught my eye. In response to a “what’s next” Tweet to point out how eighteen states have no discrimination protections for real or perceived LGBTQ people, my mother had responded with “Um, women having control of their own body?”

This rubbed me the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong; as an ardent, pro-choice feminist who spent the summer interning for Planned Parenthood, I think a woman’s right to choose and have access to safe and affordable reproductive and sexual health is a pressing issue. But, at the same time, I felt uncomfortable with framing it in opposition to such a milestone for the LGBTQ community. After all, it isn’t like that every time one minority group makes a stride forward, every other underprivileged or oppressed group loses ground. Every time one group makes strides, it should empower other groups, not lead to further divisions. I believe that approaching civil rights in this manner, that responding to a positive major court case or new law with “yes, but what about.” is a harmful way to approach political and social equality.

Look at it this way a lot of these issues, be they LGBTQ rights and protections, women’s “issues” (a term that I personally hate and could write a whole op-ed about) or ending police violence in minority communities, go beyond just the one group they affect. 

First off, intersectionalism exists. People are made up of more than one identity. You can have a woman who is in a long-term, same-sex relationship who benefits from the Supreme Court ruling but is hurt by the Hobby Lobby ruling which allowed for religious owners of corporations to refuse to pay for insurance plans that covered contraceptives. 

Or maybe there is a young black family that benefits from paid sick-time and parental leave policies but is still hurt by stop-and-frisk laws and entrenched poverty in the city they live in. People are multi-faceted and often are affected by more than one policy decision.

Secondly, when members of one marginalized community try to pit themselves against another minority, such as by reacting to a major gay rights victory with a complaint about how the Supreme Court rules against women, they are comparing two issues that, while related, are not being discussed at the same time or in the same manner, and that really doesn’t help anyone. 

Rather, it gives the impression that people have to identify with a single group and cannot have identities that are diverse and might even be in conflict with each other, such as someone who identifies as LGBTQ but might also be part of an ethnic or religious group that objects to equal rights for sexual and gender minorities. This is harmful because it paints movements in broad brushes and ignores the nuance that makes each of us different. 

Look at the new movie coming out about Stonewall riots, for example. By making the film about a fictional white, cisgender man, the filmmakers erased the black, transgender sex worker who led the movement and, as a result, simplified the history of gay rights to one of middle-class whiteness.

As a young progressive who cares passionately about many social movements, I’m not ever going to be satisfied. I see the Supreme Court extend 14th Amendment protections to the LGBTQ community while limiting a woman’s right to basic health care. It can be frustrating to watch one issue you care about make leaps and bounds forward, while another stalls in the dust. However, pitting these different issues against each other is simply not the solution.