From a young age, Roberta Suzette Hunte attended theater productions whenever possible.
“I was going from around age 10 and I loved it. Sometimes I could keep up with the story, sometimes I couldn't, but it didn't matter. I just loved being there,” Hunte says. “There’s this human kinetic connection — and the way feeling things as an audience member can open the heart and the mind is what always moved me.”
Even though Hunte loved the stage, she did not pursue a life in the theater. Instead, she went to University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg to get a degree in Politics and English. She later earned a Master’s in Conflict Resolution at PSU before completing her Ph.D. in Peace and Conflict Studies at Canada’s University of Manitoba.
Hunte has spent her global career researching structural conflicts — the culture of workplaces, maternal and child healthcare discrimination and inclusion. At Portland State, she works as an associate professor of Child, Youth, & Family Studies.
Still, storytelling has always been at the center of her work.
There’s this human kinetic connection — and the way feeling things as an audience member can open the heart and the mind is what always moved me.
“I've been listening to people's stories, and particularly women's stories for a very long time,” she says. “Listening to people's experiences and their desires for change and how they are affected by the circumstances of their lives — that's always been what I'm interested in.”
Roberta Hunte
Her interest in stories started professionally with her dissertation, which explored the experiences of Black women in construction. After struggling to engage the community on her findings, Hunte turned toward her love of theater and collaborated with playwright Bonnie Ratner on a piece called “My Walk Has Never Been Average.” The piece featured seven characters based on themes found in her research on Black women in trades and construction.
“We engaged hundreds of people around this issue, much more than would read my writing,” Hunte says.
After her dissertation, Hunte continued to utilize art to convey research and foster discussion on challenging issues. She worked with director Dawn Jones Redstone to produce a short film, “Sista in the Brotherhood,” on the discrimination experienced by Black tradeswoman. Hunte also partnered with Reed College professor Catherine Ming T’ien Duffly for a community-based performance project, “We are BRAVE,” on reproductive justice — all based on her findings in academia.
However, her upcoming work, “Push: Black Mamas Changing the Culture of Birth,” pulls from a more personal place.
The personal is political
In 2014, Hunte was 22 weeks pregnant with her first child, Isadora, when she began to have signs of early labor. She went to the emergency room, but was sent home, her concerns dismissed. Hours later, she awoke in agony experiencing contractions. Again, she went to the hospital but was dismissed and her symptoms minimized.
But Hunte's instincts were correct. Something was wrong, and she later had a placental abruption that resulted in the loss of her daughter. She, like many other Black birthing people, was failed by the maternal health care system.
“The personal is political, and what we see around maternal health disparities and maternal health in general in the U.S. is that we're getting worse,” says Hunte, now a mother of two. “We are increasing in maternal mortality and morbidity and infant death. That directly impacts people of color, low income people and folks living in rural communities.”
After her loss, Hunte joined the Multnomah County Healthy Birth Initiative, a program designed to address perinatal health disparities for Black women. Hunte says the program, which provides women with access to community health support and culturally-specific resources, helped her have her children.
The personal is political, and what we see around maternal health disparities and maternal health in general in the U.S. is that we're getting worse.
“I wasn't prepared for the different stereotypes that would come [with pregnancy]. I felt like I learned so much more about what it is to be a Black woman in this country,” she says.
Her experience with a flawed system led to a passion in her professional life for researching maternal health disparities and community-based interventions — and served as a vehicle for navigating her own grief.
“As I'm researching these issues and as I'm talking with people about their experiences, I also am able to help name for them what they are experiencing, be it obstetric racism or not being heard,” she says. “In doing that, people feel like they’re not alone. And although this is deeply personal, it’s bigger than me. I think so many people across the state want different and want better, and I appreciate being a part of that.”
Igniting conversation
As part of her work, Hunte joined a 2023 screening of “Aftershock,” a documentary about Black maternal loss, hosted by a local health department. Surrounded by doctors, obstetricians and nurses, the conversation afterwards focused on the issues within the health system featured in the film, many sure that the issues on display in the documentary weren’t occurring in their health system.
Hunte recalls a colleague who shared that their takeaway was more focused on the pain felt by those who shared their stories rather than denial of what was happening. In response a friend said, “‘What if there was a play that would bring some of those voices together so that people could understand Black maternal health experiences in medical settings?’” Hunte recalls.
From that experience, the idea for “Push” was born.
“Push” is also the first project in the Engaged Scholarship initiative, a new program by PSU’s Center for Women’s Leadership (CWL) designed to connect faculty, students and community members around consequential and mutually beneficial projects.
Hunte is a brilliant scholar-activist who pursues her work with deep integrity and commitment to advancing the cause of justice for all people.
With “Push,” Hunte explores Black maternal health experiences and inequities — including loss and isolation — as well as stories of resilience, joy and connection. She hopes viewers learn more about patient-centered care and that the piece dispels some of the myths surrounding Black birthing people and Black families.
The cast of PUSH. From left to right: Roberta Hunte, Rachelle Schmidt, Latoya Lovely, Victoria Alvarez-Chacon, Jamie Rea (co-producer and co-director), Nettie Mckenzie, with Ambrosia Johnson in the front.
“We fully expect ‘Push’ to ignite a collective conversation across the state about Black birthing folks and their experiences in ways that build toward action that directly improves the outcomes for Black birthing folks in our state,” says Vicki Reitenauer, CWL faculty co-director.
Reitenauer is especially grateful to raise awareness about the issue alongside Hunte. “Hunte is a brilliant scholar-activist who pursues her work with deep integrity and commitment to advancing the cause of justice for all people. It's an honor to work with her on this project,” she says.
Building momentum
Although “Push” hasn’t opened yet, Hunte's work is already having an impact in our community. As part of her research for the piece, Hunte received two grants that helped fund community engagement and informed work with Black Futures Initiative for Perinatal Health, a Black and woman-led collaboration of reproductive justice advocates, educators and birth workers.
“This movement has brought together voices from across the spectrum, families, healthcare providers, public health leaders and policymakers each united by the urgency of maternal health equity,” Hunte says.
Leaders in the movement understand what's at stake. They know Black infants are twice as likely to die before their first birthday as White infants, and that Black women are three-times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than White women — regardless of income or education level.
Expanding access to the care models we know work will save lives.
The group is working on legislative advocacy and the creation of a birth village that would provide midwifery, doula and community health worker care to at-risk families in the Tri-County region, a project supported in part with the legislative work of the Oregon Health Education Collaborative.
They are advocating to change the care model so outcomes improve, with individuals like Hunte leading the charge. “Expanding access to the care models we know work will save lives,” Hunte says.
Hunte’s work has also informed and supported a package of bills known as the Momnibus 2025 Bill Package, led by Sen. Lisa Reynolds, D-Washington County.
“We seek to do better and offer more widely the evidence based and tested programs that work,” Reynolds says of the legislative package.
Momnibus is made up of four bills, focused on improving maternal health and outcomes for babies and children. The four proposals are:
- Prioritizing affordable housing and rental assistance for pregnant people and families with babies
- Maternal support for substance use and mental health treatment
- Expanding Oregon tax credits for children and providing financial assistance to families
- Increasing the perinatal workforce, including doulas and lactation counselors
Hunte says the opportunity to support mothers and improve outcomes isn’t limited to those with high-risk pregnancies like herself.
“There are so many people that do not have that experience. For somebody who is pregnant and things are going well, how do we support them so that they have a beautiful experience, that they do not have birth trauma, that their baby is healthy?” she says. “We need to really normalize care and offer more holistic care, where people have access to people and communities who can help guide them.”
That same community is found in the theater, where Hunte is hoping to not only share information but also build understanding and create stories together.
“I think for a lot of folks, they have stories they need and want to tell, about what it means to be a birthing person, to be a Black birthing person, a rural birthing person, to be an Indigenous birthing person,” Hunte says. “I want people to understand that those stories are significant. They cannot be hidden.”