I have a fixation with plants — the reaching arch of deciduous tree limbs in winter, glazed with fresh snow; the way moss smells like running water. In spring I welcome the fresh shoots of mugwort in ditches, the underside of each new leaf shimmering. I measure the length of summer by the rise of speckled tiger lilies in the dry season. We have used plants in every step of every civilization, from clothing to medicine to recreation to heat. They are a part of us, whether or not we’re watching them.
Herbs are at the heart of much of our every day, and consequently at the heart of much of our politics. There is a question I’ve been turning over in my mind relentlessly: how do we project ourselves and societies onto the natural world, and how is this projection used to uphold or reinforce oppression?
I decided to start this blog series on how herbs have been used as birth control across cultures and time — why they became vilified throughout the industrialized world and how we’ve recently seen their resurgence in all aspects of life, including birth control.
When I began a serious relationship with a cis man this fixation became more immediate. While I completely support pharmaceutical birth control, I’ve had a lot of medical conditions which have caused me to distrust pharmaceutical companies and doctors. My experiences have probably been a large reason I find this work so compelling.
There are many misconceptions about birth control. For example: it’s only for people who are biological women.
That’s not true, pregnancy affects people with all genitalia. That is a concept that also dismisses pregnancy for trans folx. Because most people have sex, the assumption that only biological women should be concerned about pregnancy is a fallacy, and based on outdated (and never hip) oppressive gender norms.
For myself, it was intuitive that people had at one point used herbs to control their fertility. I decided to trust myself to explore what this might mean. When I say allow, I mean it — there were a lot of internalized roadblocks to giving myself permission to simply educate myself on how I might take control of my own body.
It’s been about seven months since I began to research this topic, and I’m completely enthralled with this process. I have a series of poems about many of these herbs, and I’m working on a nonfiction piece.
I’ve learned about herbs used in various stages of birth control. Contraceptives (which interfere with conception or implantation) can be taken by biological men and women. Emmenagogues stimulate menstruation, and can cause an abortion in the early stages of pregnancy—many of these herbs are also used to maintain health and can bring about afterbirth and speed up deliveries. There are also herbs used as abortifacients (which abort), and herbs used for permanent sterility in every kind of body.
The power to control reproduction is clearly a political one, and has been for centuries. Herbs, along with the land to grow them, have been integral to colonization and people’s self-determination. In the burning times, many women were tired as witches for simply controlling their fertility, or for holding the knowledge to do so. When Europe colonized the Americas, the lack of a nuclear family structure was often used as an excuse for imperialism, and as slavery expanded a growing population was necessary to support the socio-economic system which depended on it.
I won’t write too in depth about the herbs or their medical uses, because they are dangerous, and I’m by no means an expert. Instead this series will focus on the roles herbs play in societies — how they’ve shaped our world and cultures, and how we’ve used them or demonized their uses.
