New Planned Parenthood leader says real issue is fairness, health equity

Abortion bans in neighboring states have prompted Planned Parenthood to expand in Minnesota, but Richardson fears this won't reduce gaps in care between haves, who can afford travel for an abortion, and have-nots.

Richardson and the governor had just spoken on a panel where they heard about abortion patients from as far away as Texas and Florida traveling to Minnesota. Abortions in the state have increased significantly since Roe was overturned; a recent study showed that nearly a third of Minnesota abortions are for out-of-staters. One patient drove 800 miles into a blizzard — but since the blizzard closed Planned Parenthood's facilities, the woman stayed in a hotel for a week.

Richardson kept steering the conversation back to fairness. The gap in access, she said, will only widen for those already struggling.

The health center manager walked them to the rooms where 80 to 120 abortions take place weekly. (In March, Richardson led Vice President Kamala Harris on a similar tour.) Richardson, the governor and Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan hovered over an exam table.

The governor asked about Iowa's pending Supreme Court case. The sharply divided court last year blocked a 2018 abortion ban, then Iowa lawmakers went back and passed virtually the same ban again. Richardson said legal uncertainty sowed confusion among patients.

"People are afraid, and providers are as well," Richardson said.

Planned Parenthood's Minnesota facilities have increased capacity: more exam rooms and appointments at their Uptown facility, an expansion in Mankato, increasing investments in telemedicine. The organization announced in January the consolidation of some clinics and the elimination of dozens of positions but stressed the changes will help them treat more patients.

Before the governor left, he turned to Richardson: "We got your back," he told her.

In other states under Richardson's umbrella, those in power do not have her back.

A Planned Parenthood health center manager in South Dakota said they're barred from discussing abortion with patients. In North Dakota, the state's only abortion clinic — unaffiliated with Planned Parenthood — moved from Fargo to Moorhead.

In Iowa, Richardson strode into a lobbyist room just off the House of Representatives chambers. The House was about to debate a bill that Republicans said would protect religious freedom; Democrats said it would allow discrimination against women and LGBTQ people. Planned Parenthood broadening its mission toward things like gender-affirming care is part of this larger philosophical shift. But when Richardson brings health-equity arguments to Republican leaders in red states, they often fall on deaf ears.

Rep. Jennifer Konfrst, Democratic leader in the Republican super-majority House, greeted Richardson warmly.

"It's unrelenting," Konfrst said. "It's just thing after thing after thing after thing. It's still legal in Iowa — for now — and that's the best we can hope for until we get a pro-choice majority in the House. We've gotta hold on as long as we can."

Richardson can hardly believe how much things have changed in such a short time. "It's like bizarro world," she said.

Konfrst predicted their side would win in the long run. She brought up a recent poll showing 61% of Iowans believe abortion should be legal in all or most cases. The new law is virtually identical to a 2018 abortion ban struck down in courts — only this time Roe no longer provides a shield.

"It was theoretical then," Konfrst said. "Now it's real."

A bell rang: Time for debate and voting. Richardson thanked her: "I know how exhausting it is, but I have so much hope for the future."

"You're amazing," Konfrst said. "Now I gotta go fight some terrible bills."

Later that evening, Iowa representatives voted on the religious freedom bill that Democrats and Planned Parenthood opposed as discriminatory. It passed overwhelmingly.