I remember having to write an essay on abortion--specifically, second- and third-trimester abortion--as part of my 10th grade homeschool curriculum. With the sort of self-satisfied superiority that can only be summoned by a naive 14-year old, I wrote scathingly of the callous disregard of a woman who would choose to abort her fetus through instillation or partial birth abortion procedures. I recall watching my mother as she read the essay, her face unusually still, and her quiet rebuke of my harsh arguments. It is one of the few times I can remember sensing genuine emotion in her, and now I wonder if her sadness was reflective of a personal experience she has kept secret all these years.
Freshman Comp and Rhetoric in community college brought many new experiences for me, not the least having to actually construct and defend a position in a persuasive essay. By this point in my life I was swiftly and painfully learning that my upbringing was atypical and my fundamentalist worldview was...peculiar, to say the least. I was gradually learning to listen and absorb differing perspectives, and when challenged to write a persuasive essay in my first semester, I chose abortion rights as my topic. But my instructor was baffled at my essay, because in the end I could not argue decisively for or against the topic. My critical thinking skills were still evolving, and bless her, she still gave me an 'A' after I talked with her in person and tried to explain the reasoning behind my essay.
I transferred to a large public university the following year. The campus, widely regarded as the most liberal in the state, provided space for many different groups to protest and argue for or against any issue of the day, from the legalization of drugs to the importance of preserving albino squirrels. One day, I walked past an exhibit that was set up by a pro-life organization on the quad and was shocked and disgusted by the photos and materials they had on display. For the first time in having contact with a pro-life organization, I felt manipulated, although at the time I didn't have the emotional literacy to identify it as such. All I knew was that I was disturbed, ashamed, and just a tiny bit outraged. A quiet voice in the back of my head wondered who were these people, after all, to heap judgment and guilt upon women who were contemplating or who had already chosen an abortion? After that, I would sometimes drive past a "pregnancy resource center" by campus and wonder whether they provided comfort or condemnation to the women who sought solace there.
While I was in grad school working towards a master's in humanities, I took a course in philosophy, which required a final paper that argued for or against a particular position. Once again, I was drawn to the abortion debate although the professor warned against such a politically explosive topic. For the first time, I resolved that I would adopt a neutral and objective approach as I delved into the history of the issue, the medical research, and the more recent Supreme Court arguments. While everyone must draw their own conclusions, what I learned while writing this paper convinced me that the extreme pro-life stance was morally, psychologically, and spiritually indefensible.
Since then I have become even more open-minded about abortion and reproductive rights. I am now staunchly pro-choice; although it is unlikely that at this stage in my life I would need to seek out an abortion, I did have to make a trip to the pharmacy last year to buy the "morning after" pill due to a delay in getting my birth control pills refilled, and while I have to say the experience was a little embarrassing, I was glad to have that option available to me. And I fervently hope that the option is available to my daughter, should she ever need it. I also unapologetically hope that she has the option to have an abortion should she need or want one in the future.
I've never been politically active about my pro-choice sentiments, though, and while recent legislation in Texas has made me more concerned about and aware of the fragility of our abortion rights, I have to admit it was largely off of my everyday radar. Until, that is, the Texas legislature took up a pro-life bill late in a special session in recent days which, I suspect, caught quite a few everyday citizens off-guard. This latest attempt at restricting reproductive rights in Texas was defeated by a combination of a gutsy filibuster and an overwhelming in-person protest that delayed the voting process. The bill's sponsors--largely Republicans, although one Democrat reportedly voted in favor--were furious at being thwarted, and even for a brief while resorted to altering the voting record in an attempt to force through the legislation, as the photographic evidence displayed by Rep. Juan "Chuy" Hinojosa here proves:
Seriously, folks, the Republicans were trying to lie about the time the vote was recorded (i.e., time-stamp it prior to the midnight deadline) in order to force through their bill so they could send it to Governor Rick Perry. Fortunately, there were thousands of people watching the process in person and online and they eventually admitted that their efforts had failed. Unfortunately, the Republican majority took this defeat particularly hard, and already Governor Perry has promised to call yet another special legislative session to bring the bill to another vote. I am saddened and outraged that, with the vote standing at 19-10 on the bill last night, it seems likely that it will pass the next time around, protests and grassroots efforts notwithstanding.
I can't help but feel really depressed by this. I truly thought that when I left the fundamentalist Baptist church, I could escape their damaging influences. Now, it feels like they are taking over the entire country, just as they planned to do when I was growing up. Dominionism is a real and frightening threat to our freedom, and I feel so helpless to fight against it.
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