Enovid. Oil on plexiglass & wood. 20"x 72." February 2009.
Enovid. Oil on plexiglass & wood. 20"x 72." February 2009.
This mixed-media sculpture is constructed from layers of painted plexiglas, creating depth and transparency within the structure. A pillar of soil runs through its center, with pills emerging from the earth. The imagery connects the land, the bodies of Puerto Rican women, and a history of medical experimentation carried out under colonial rule.
In 1956, large-scale clinical trials of Enovid, the world's first birth control pill, began in Puerto Rico, including among women in the impoverished farming community of Río Piedras. The women who participated were not adequately informed of the experimental nature of the drug or the risks involved. The pill contained hormone levels substantially higher than those used in today's formulations, and participants experienced serious side effects. At least three women died during the broader clinical trial process, although their deaths were not adequately investigated or publicly acknowledged at the time.
These trials did not happen in isolation. They emerged within a broader history of U.S. colonial policies and eugenic thinking that treated Puerto Rico's population growth as a problem to be managed. Puerto Rican women, particularly those living in poverty, were subjected to reproductive policies and medical practices that compromised their ability to make informed decisions about their own bodies. Alongside contraceptive experimentation, forced and coerced sterilization became widespread. By the mid-twentieth century, approximately one-third of Puerto Rican women of childbearing age had been sterilized, making this one of the most consequential and underrecognized chapters in the island's history.
The soil running through this piece represents more than the land itself. It evokes the histories rooted within Puerto Rico, the lives shaped by its political realities, and the experiences that continue to nourish our collective memory. The pills emerging from the earth suggest how medical progress can become entangled with exploitation when scientific advancement is pursued without informed consent, accountability, or respect for human dignity. The layered plexiglas reflects the complexity of these histories: what is visible, what remains obscured, and what we must look beneath the surface to understand.
Puerto Rican history cannot be reduced to images of tropical beauty, vibrant culture, or resilience. It also holds painful truths about colonialism, racism, and the exploitation of our bodies and communities. These stories deserve to be told with honesty and care. Our histories are layered, complex, painful, and powerful. Through my work, I seek to bring these narratives into view, honoring the women whose experiences have too often been forgotten and challenging us to confront the systems that made such injustices possible.