While me and my friend were eager to recruit new members for the Period Poverty Club—a club dedicated to combating menstrual poverty—at our school's annual club day, but the responses we got weren't great: people ridiculed our goal, many expressed strong disgrace towards period products, and some even questioned why such a club would be open to male students.

In fact, the predominant weren’t aware of the definition of Period Poverty, because it is a topic that got sunk in the bottom of the news. Amid the debates regarding gender inequality, many concerned job discrimination, access to education, and patriarchy—often without sufficient considerations to period poverty. Its definition, by the National Institutes of Health (NIH), is the lack of access to safe and hygienic menstrual products during monthly periods and inaccessibility to basic sanitation services or facilities as well as menstrual hygiene education. When the NIH itself even defined period poverty as a “neglected public health issue,” the problem is apparent: those who don’t experience period poverty don’t even know what Period Poverty means.

The same applies to me:  I did not know the definition of period poverty, I did not grow up with a lack of menstrual products, and my friend–who founded both the Period Liberty organization and the Period Poverty Club at my school–was the only reason why I joined the club. In the club, we got to discuss financial barriers, stigmas, shame, educational disruptions, and tremendous health risks associated with period poverty. We’ve raised funds for menstrual products distribution, and have made many donations. But the power of a 20-people club is simply too diminutive, compared to The World Bank reported number of 500 million women worldwide who face period poverty on a monthly basis.

I’ve read informational data on this issue, but what tugged me are definitely the testimonials. The documentary Period. End of Sentence. is one of the most memorable  documentaries that brings the problem to life–in a way that data and statistics were unable to fully convey.

The documentary was created by Rayka Zehtabchi under The Pad Project, whose mission is to end period stigma globally. In the city of Delhi, India, it depicts women who, devoid of sanitary pads, become entangled with health issues and face impediments in accessing education. The documentary captures a transition from the enduring shame of their menstrual cycles to a state where these women now thrive through a low-cost sanitary napkin machine.

Even though the documentary focuses on Delhi, India, its message resonates globally. Many girls in different parts of the world would face a lack of period products, fear stigmatization; to teenage girls, they would refrain from attending school. 

Crystal Jackson, once struggled with period poverty, told in a 'healthy women' article that, despite close friendships, she felt humiliated and thought she had to keep her difficulty to afford period supplies to herself in her teenage years, and never tell her female friends. Her approach to her period cycle was simply “Cover up the blood, cover up the smell, cover up the cramps. Pretend like it’s not even happening.” 

As students, we are rarely educated on our menstrual cycles. We are rarely aware of term stigmatization, but we often experience stigmatizations ourselves. I remember hiding my pads when going to the restroom, and initially, I would refer to my period as "that thing" when talking to my friends. But what is so shameful about my body's biological function that I can't even openly talk about my period?

Like Jackson, period stigmas that are rooted in one’s biological function have consistently pushed individuals to endure silent period poverty. Choosing to stay away from school out of the fear of stigmatization is a reality that often goes unnoticed and unspoken. 

A UNESCO report estimated that 10% of girls in Sub-Saharan Africa miss school because of their menstrual cycle. Some estimates place this at 20% of the total school year. Many girls drop out of school entirely once they begin their menstrual cycle. In the U.S., according to a 2023 statista survey, due to their inability to afford them, nearly 25% of American teenagers who are menstruating suffer from period poverty. In addition, 10% of the teens polled said they had worn products longer than advised.  

With complete acknowledgements, I am not the most qualified person to speak on this issue because I’ve never experienced period poverty. But with complete acknowledgements, I am qualified enough to say that period poverty is always more severe than it is depicted in a film, an article, or a testimonial. 

If you have never experienced period poverty, imagine the question: As a woman, what will your life be like if you can't afford pads? This is equivalent to asking men: What will your life be like if you can't afford food?

Menstrual hygiene accessibility to all is a right, not a privilege. Period poverty cannot be silenced anymore.