The 2nd Annual Missouri Black Maternal Health Summit opened with joy. Hosted at Lincoln University, a historically Black university in the heart of Jefferson City, the summit intentionally centered Black mamas, birth workers, and their allies — not just as participants, but as the movement’s foundation.
In a state where Black women are two and a half times more likely to die from pregnancy-related complications than white women, according to the Missouri Department of Health and Senior Services’ Pregnancy Associated Mortality Review, the summit doubled down on community-led solutions that center joy, tradition, and systemic change.
From the opening remarks by Princess Stormm of St. Louis — longtime radio personality and community advocate who served as the summit’s master of ceremonies — to a curated musical experience by DJ Onnie, the tone was set for celebration, healing, and power.
Organizers, including the Missouri Community Doula Council and Jamaa Birth Village, emphasized that birth is not simply a clinical event — it’s a sacred cultural and emotional journey.
“Our culture and heritage celebrates Black parents, pregnancies, births, postpartum, and parenting as a momentous journey,” Jamaa Birth Village shared in a Facebook post ahead of the summit. The event set out to restore that truth, elevating birth as something beautiful and deserving protection — not simply survival.
Held April 16-17, the summit was guided by the theme “Birthing Boldly: Reimagining Care, Community, and Culture for Black Mamas & Families.” Participants included midwives, doulas, parents, physicians, public health leaders, and policy organizers across Missouri and beyond. Sessions focused on improving maternal health outcomes, elevating Black-led care, organizing for reproductive justice, and reclaiming cultural birth traditions.
For many attendees, one of the most powerful moments came during the presentation by Michelle Browder, founder of the Mothers of Gynecology Monument in Montgomery, Alabama. Browder shared the stories of Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey – enslaved women who were operated on without anesthesia by Dr. J. Marion Sims, long referred to as the “father of modern gynecology.”
Through searing, often hilarious storytelling, Browder reframed the historical narrative and emphasized the need to name the women whose suffering laid the foundation for modern reproductive care. Her delivery moved between righteous anger and disarming wit, evoking laughter and tears in equal measure. She also spoke with urgency and clarity, inviting the audience to not just learn but to feel.
Her work was deeply influenced by a painting from the University of Michigan’s Great Moments in Medicine series — an image that idealizes Sims and obscures the reality of the women he experimented on. Loaned to Browder by the university, the painting became a catalyst for her Mothers of Gynecology work, including a mural that reverses the gaze: Sims is depicted as the subject, observed by Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey in a scene marked by reversals, reckoning, and power.
In 2022, Browder took another bold step, purchasing the Montgomery property where Sims once conducted his surgeries. The site, rumored to have been haunted, will become home to a museum and teaching clinic dedicated to gynecological history and community-based reproductive health. The facility will include a training center for doulas and midwives, a primary care unit for uninsured patients, and a partnership hub for medical students from historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs). As part of her effort to place history in its proper context, Browder is also advocating for the relocation of the J. Marion Sims statue from Alabama’s State Capitol to the museum site — just eight blocks away — where it can serve as a more honest teaching tool for future generations.
“We will now be able to use it as a space to not just teach, but to help end this maternal health crisis that we’re in,” Browder said.
Her message at the summit was both personal and urgent: healing begins with truth — and truth requires that we look directly at history, and not away from it.

Shafia Monroe (Photo source: Chrissey Breault)
The event continued with a keynote address by Mama Shafia Monroe, DEM, MPH — Queen Mother of the U.S. Black Midwives Movement and founder of the International Center for Traditional Childbearing. Monroe, who has trained thousands of doulas nationwide, led Oregon to become the first state to offer Medicaid reimbursement for doulas. She spoke about the power of community-rooted care and the urgency of returning to traditional practices that have long supported Black birthing people. She emphasized that Black fathers are among the most involved parents, despite often being misrepresented, and highlighted emerging research on the role of paternal health — specifically, how sperm quality may influence placental development and, ultimately, fetal outcomes.
Sandra Thornhill, MPA — Womb Warrior, Policy Griot, and founder of Sacred Organized Spaces — spoke about evaluating legislation and using community knowledge to advance reproductive justice. She reminded participants that even supportive bills must be carefully reviewed to ensure they do not inadvertently reinforce the very structures advocates are working to dismantle.
It was during this session that a powerful refrain emerged: “We didn’t come to sit in the room; we came to shift the room.” Participants repeated the phrase in unison, accompanied by hand motions and impromptu dance steps that turned the policy discussion into a moment of movement – both literal and symbolic.
The phrase carried more than rhythm; it carried meaning. “We didn’t come to sit in the room; we came to shift the room” was an affirmation of purpose. It challenged participants to take up space, speak boldly, and disrupt systems that have long dismissed or diminished Black maternal experiences. Though born in that moment, the rallying cry echoed something larger: centuries of being silenced, sidelined, or unseen. It spoke to Black women who have always done work without recognition and to women more broadly who have been told to wait their turn. In a setting focused on policy and legislative action, it reminded everyone that advocacy begins not with permission, but with presence. The shift was immediate. The message was generational.
Summit organizers highlighted several perinatal bills currently under consideration in Missouri, including those addressing doula registration, doula reimbursement, Medicaid coverage, postpartum care expansion, and maternal health data reporting. Others, flagged under the “Save More Babies” campaign, were noted for their potential to restrict reproductive autonomy or expand punitive measures against parents. Attendees were encouraged to stay informed, understand the difference between Senate and House versions, and remain engaged as these measures move through the legislature.
Following the session, participants traveled together to the Missouri State Capitol. There, they had the opportunity to meet with legislators, observe session proceedings, and attend a Black Maternal Health Pep Rally in the Capitol rotunda.
Justice Gatson — founder of the Reale Justice Network and Social Justice Doula International — addressed the crowd with a message that connected history, policy, and cultural memory. Framing reproductive justice as part of a broader movement for liberation, she emphasized the long legacy of Black brilliance and leadership in Missouri. Her remarks referenced George Washington Carver, a scientific and agricultural pioneer, alongside Thomas Hart Benton — whose massive mural “A Social History of the State of Missouri” spans the walls of the House Lounge inside the Capitol. The mural, painted in 1936, controversially included Black subjects — an unusual choice at the time—but now stands as a visual reminder that Black presence has always shaped the state’s history, even when not centered in its politics.
The rally was also a moment of collective affirmation. A phrase introduced earlier in the Lunch & Learn — “We didn’t come to sit in the room; we came to shift the room”— was spoken again, in a louder, more embodied, and echoed throughout the rotunda. What began as a chant of advocacy became a declaration of presence.
Black maternal health outcomes remain among the most urgent public health challenges in the country. According to the March of Dimes, Black women in the United States are three times more likely to die from pregnancy-related complications than white women. In Missouri, the maternal mortality rate for Black women is more than twice the state average.
Research shows that midwifery and doula care models — particularly those led by people of color — can improve outcomes, reduce unnecessary interventions, and increase satisfaction for birthing people. These care models are also shown to reduce the likelihood of postpartum complications and low birth weight.
The summit closed with a first-of-its-kind experience in Missouri: a Collective Rest & Daydream session led by Tricia Hersey, founder of The Nap Ministry. Hersey, often called the Nap Bishop, guided participants through a restorative practice rooted in the belief that rest is resistance. Attendees brought yoga mats, blankets, and items to contribute to a shared ancestral altar — creating a sacred space for recovery, reflection, and radical reimagining.
The Missouri Black Maternal Health Summit offered more than statistics. It offered vision. It reminded those doing the work – in homes, clinics, courtrooms, and care spaces — that health is not a single appointment or outcome. It is shaped by policy, culture, memory, and movement. And the movement, attendees were reminded, is only growing stronger.