Framed in black and written in white, Students for Life America’s posters shone through the crowds outside the Supreme Court the day Roe v. Wade was overturned. They had a coordinated message. “I am the post-Roe Generation,” they read.
Instantly recognizable by their monochromatic posters, members of Students for Life America have become ubiquitous at pro-life rallies across the country. Founded in 1988 at Georgetown University, Students for Life America has grown from a web of campus clubs to one of the largest pro-life organizations in the nation.
Political activism and college campuses have a canonical tie. But recently, activism on the nation’s campuses have seen a conservative swing. Students for Life America, along with groups like Turning Point USA, are at the vibrant center.
With chapters at over 1,500 college campuses nationwide and more than 1.3 million followers across social media, Students for Life America has attempted to grasp Gen Z’s definitions of pro-life and pro-choice.
Students for Life America leverages their arguments on fear — fears rooted in white exceptionalism and degradation of the nuclear family, fears mirrored by other young conservatives. The organization’s social media is littered with pro-natalist and pro-choice content, taking both emotional and combative stances. Commonplace in the conservative ecosystem, natal politics have a strongly racialized past — a past that Students for Life America is concerningly close to.
Across Students for Life America’s social media feeds, a clear binary emerges. Much of their debate-style content positions white, cross-wearing women — defending life and liberty — against Black women, who are characterized as defending the opposite. This binary walks in the historical footprints of racial civility — the moral ascendancy of whiteness.
In one reel, Kristian Hawkins, the president and face of the organization, talks to a Black abortion survivor:
“There are certain human rights issues, ma’am, that are yes or no. Can you ever own another human being?” Hawkins jumps to, as her interviewee walks away. “So you don’t think slavery is a yes or no question!” she yells after her.
In another video, Lydia Taylor Davis, a blonde, white representative of the organization, interviews another Black woman. Shortly into the interview, Davis returns to Hawkins’ connection to slavery. Offering a brief history lesson on slavery, Davis frames her moral arguments on a background tailored to her opponent. Like Hawkins, Davis uses slavery as a “lesson.” Davis positions herself on an intellectual and moral stage — explaining to her non-white audience why slavery is bad and loosely projects it to abortion.
In a third interview, Davis once again takes the moral edge over a Black woman, using religion as the high ground. In the video, the interviewee asserts that abortion is “between [the mother] and God.” In response, Davis repeats Bible verses. “God demands us defend the defenseless,” she reads over and over from the Book of Proverbs, ignoring the interviewee. You don’t know God, she reads from between the lines.
Who does know God, then?
Students for Life America is diligent in its definition. Through their Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, and website, this answer is clear. The godly are women like Davis and Hawkins — modest, younger white women. And through their content, the unknowing are Black women.
Students for Life America’s editorial tone produces a straw-man enemy: an enemy that’s amoral, uncivil, and in almost all of their digital campus content, not white. It’s a character type repeated again and again, video after video, debate after debate.
At its core, Students for Life America seeks to end abortion. But through its messaging, they reflect the foundations that movements like theirs emerged from. Students for Life America’s rhetoric is not just echo of the past, but proof of our living proximity to it.
Standing outside of SCOTUS on that watershed day, Kristan Hawkins and members of Students for Life America knew a new day had come. Holding a microphone close to her face, Hawkins celebrated in the same way she advocated — loudly, relentlessly, and straight to the point. For Students for Life America, the fall of Roe wasn’t a step into the future, but a return to the past.
Image Source: Fox News

