Liberty Lost: A Stark Look at Faith, Power, and Reproductive Coercion at Liberty University

 In the new podcast Liberty Lost, journalist T.J. Raphael uncovers a deeply unsettling system operating within the bounds of one of America’s largest evangelical universities. Set in the heart of Lynchburg, Virginia, at Liberty University, the story centers around the Liberty Godparent Home—a little-known facility for pregnant teens with close institutional and ideological ties to the university founded by Jerry Falwell Sr.

What begins as a place of supposed refuge for young, unmarried women who become pregnant quickly reveals itself to be a pressure chamber for coerced adoption—wrapped in Christian fundamentalist dogma and amplified by the material incentives of access to a Liberty University education. For some girls, like Abbi, the protagonist of the podcast’s first episodes, the cost of obedience is not only personal but generational.

The podcast, released by Wondery and available on all major platforms, chronicles Abbi’s harrowing journey into the Liberty Godparent Home, where she’s isolated from her family and friends, counseled by religious figures with a clear agenda, and told in no uncertain terms that “God wants her baby to go to a more deserving Christian couple.” Behind the language of “choice” and “support,” the message is clear: parenting is discouraged, and adoption is moralized.

These adoptions are not only shaped by theology but by an implicit transaction. Girls who go through with adoption are more likely to receive full scholarships to Liberty University. Refuse, and they risk being cast aside—denied the academic support and financial stability promised by the institution. It’s a system in which teenage girls’ reproductive choices are entangled with Liberty’s brand of moral authority, educational opportunity, and patriarchal control.

Raphael carefully weaves together interviews with former residents, including those who’ve grown into adulthood haunted by the trauma of giving up their children. Their stories span decades, and together they paint a picture of a deeply entrenched culture of reproductive coercion masked as Christian charity. The podcast also traces how these practices—long thought to have faded after the peak of “maternity homes” in the 20th century—are resurging in post-Roe America. Liberty is not an outlier, but rather a flagship in a growing movement.

The implications for higher education are chilling. Liberty University, already known for its regressive social policies and political entanglements, appears to be operating a pipeline where vulnerable teens are funneled through a reproductive system designed to serve religious ideology and institutional branding, rather than their own well-being. It’s not just a question of faith—it’s a question of ethics, autonomy, and what happens when educational institutions leverage opportunity against obedience.

Liberty Lost should serve as a call to investigate not just one university or one home, but an entire network of under-regulated faith-based institutions profiting—spiritually and materially—from the forced sacrifices of young women. At a time when the nation’s reproductive rights are under siege, the podcast is both a warning and a demand: to listen, to document, and to hold accountable those who wield education as a weapon.

For those interested in the intersections of religion, power, and reproductive justice in U.S. higher education, Liberty Lost is essential listening—and a sobering reminder that the struggle for bodily autonomy does not end at the gates of a university. It may very well begin there.

Supreme Court Ruling Threatens Healthcare Access for Working-Class College Women

In a landmark ruling on June 26, the U.S. Supreme Court sided with South Carolina in its effort to defund Planned Parenthood by excluding it from the state’s Medicaid program. The Court’s 6-3 decision, issued along ideological lines, has far-reaching consequences that extend well beyond the politics of abortion. At stake is the ability of Medicaid recipients to challenge state actions that restrict access to qualified healthcare providers, and among those most affected are working-class women—particularly those trying to build better futures through higher education.

For millions of low-income students, particularly women attending community colleges, for-profit institutions, and public universities, Medicaid and Planned Parenthood are vital safety nets. These students often juggle full course loads with jobs, caregiving responsibilities, and personal financial struggles. For them, Planned Parenthood has been more than a provider of abortion services. It offers birth control, cancer screenings, STI testing, reproductive counseling, and referrals for other necessary medical care. In many areas, especially in the South and rural regions like South Carolina, Planned Parenthood is one of the few accessible providers that treat Medicaid patients with dignity and without judgment.

The Supreme Court’s ruling removes the legal power of those patients to sue when a state excludes such providers from the Medicaid program, even if those providers are otherwise qualified. In her dissent, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson wrote that this decision would result in "tangible harm to real people," depriving Medicaid recipients of their only meaningful way to enforce rights Congress granted them. And she’s right. The ruling effectively silences the most vulnerable people in the healthcare system—people who are too poor to pay out of pocket and too marginalized to be heard in political decision-making.

For working-class women in college, this decision could be devastating. When they lose access to affordable reproductive healthcare, their academic goals are put at risk. The ability to plan pregnancies, receive prenatal care, or treat chronic reproductive health issues is foundational to educational persistence and success. Without it, students may drop out due to unplanned pregnancies, untreated health conditions, or overwhelming financial strain. This outcome is particularly likely for women of color, who are already overrepresented in low-income student populations and underrepresented in graduation rates.

The myth that working-class women have “plenty of other options” falls apart under scrutiny. In South Carolina, nearly 40 percent of counties are considered “contraceptive deserts,” areas where access to affordable contraception is limited or nonexistent. While the state claims there are over a hundred other clinics available, many of these lack the staffing, specialization, or welcoming environment of Planned Parenthood. In practice, the choice is not between providers—it’s between care and no care.

Beyond immediate healthcare impacts, the ruling has structural implications for the political economy of both education and health. It reveals how deeply interlinked these systems are, and how the erosion of rights in one domain—healthcare—directly undermines access and equity in another—education. This is not an isolated case. It fits into a broader strategy by right-wing legislators and courts to control reproductive autonomy, silence poor people’s legal recourse, and undermine public systems that serve the working class.

It also exposes the hypocrisy of institutions and corporations that profit from inequality. As this ruling was being issued, ads for Hillsdale College and the University of Phoenix appeared alongside the coverage, promoting liberty and career advancement while healthcare infrastructure for their target demographics crumbles. This is the business model of disaster capitalism—undermine public goods, then monetize the chaos.

The consequences will be real and immediate. A working mother studying to become a nurse or teacher may now have to miss classes or drop out because she cannot get a Pap smear, refill her birth control, or find prenatal care. A young Black student in a Southern community college may now have no place to turn when she needs reproductive health services. A low-income family may be forced into debt to treat a preventable condition that would have been caught in a routine screening at Planned Parenthood. These are not hypothetical scenarios. They are the daily realities of an educated underclass pushed further to the margins.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to follow this story as GOP-led states are expected to follow South Carolina’s lead, and as advocacy organizations brace for a long and difficult fight. For now, the Supreme Court’s decision stands as a sobering reminder that health, education, and justice in America remain deeply entangled—and increasingly inaccessible—for those without wealth or political power.