Abortion Rights


Abortion

Abortion

I normally do not read “Time” magazine, but I was recently sitting in a physician’s office waiting to talk to him about a silly bump on my leg when I noticed that he actually had THIS WEEK’S “Time” so I couldn’t resist.  Thumbing through it, I saw a big, bold typed “35” and the caption underneath said:  “Age, in weeks after conception, at which premature infants first distinguished pain from general sensations of touch.”  For some reason, there was no reference to where they got that number.

Hmmmmm, I thought to myself, as I kept rubbing the bump on my leg.  Could this be fodder for another award-winning blog?

As loyal readers know, in the past we’ve had innumerable heated discussions about when the fetus is formed, when it has a heartbeat, when it can tell the difference between Yo Yo Ma and The Ramones and, yes, when it feels pain.  All of these arguments are designed to determine when/if the fetus becomes/is a “human being.”  Around and around we go, with no end in sight.  Hell, there are 50 years olds who still don’t know the difference between Yo Yo Ma and The Ramones, but that’s beside the point.

So, what does this statement in “Time” mean?  Here’s my thought:

The way I interpret this is that the (and for purposes of consistency I will use the pro-choice word) fetus is floating around in there, not really knowing what is going on.  Nuclear war could have erupted outside for all it knows and it is just chilling.  Absent any action from the outside, it will keep growing and growing.

But let’s say the fetus is now 8 weeks old and, unbeknownst to him/her/it, its host has decided that she does not want that  fetus to grow anymore, she has decided she cannot give birth.  The woman makes an appointment with the local abortion clinic a few days hence.  She goes to the clinic, the fetus not realizing what’s going on or what’s going to happen (and, please pro-lifers, if you really believe the fetus can actually suspect something, prove it).  The woman goes through the preliminary steps, makes it to the surgical table and the doctor begins the process.

The vacuum apparatus is inserted into the woman and the fetus is still floating around, unaware of what is coming next.  Now, let’s make the incredibly ridiculous assumption that the fetus at that point can “feel” something, that it is aware that something is touching it.  So, here comes this plastic tubing, the open end facing the fetus.  Then the machine is turned on.

According to “Time” magazine, the fetus hasn’t the foggiest idea of what is going on, whether this foreign item is a “friend” or “foe.”   Indeed, if the fetus was 22 or more and the forceps or a needle made contact with it, the fetus still does not know that whatever is touching it is a good thing or a bad thing.

I am firmly pro-choice but have always said that procuring an abortion can be a sad event.  One reason is that I’m sure many women do wonder what, if anything, the fetus feels during an abortion.  If they read this little blurb in “Time,” I wonder if they would feel somewhat comforted?

Abortion Escorts

Abortion Escorts

Let’s talk about escorts.

No, not the professional ones that you can track down on Craig’s List.  Get your mind out of the gutter for Gosh Sakes.  I’m talking about the pro-choice escorts.

I can’t remember when I first heard about these folks who were accompanying women into their local abortion clinic.  But I know it was sometime in the early-1990’s, when groups like Operation Rescue, the Lambs of Christ and others were getting hundreds of their followers to block the entrances to abortion clinics.  It is hard to believe today, but I recall many demonstrations where anti-abortion folks would just plant themselves down in front of the door to the clinic and sit there.  Amazingly, they would usually do this right in front of the local police.   And, more amazingly, the police would often just let them sit there and chant and sing for hours, even though the protestors were clearly violating the trespass laws.

Somewhere around that time either the National Organization for Women or the Feminist Majority Foundation started to counter-attack.  They began recruiting pro choice activists to help women access their medical services by escorting them through the crowd and into the clinic.  Indeed, when the antis suggest that it was the doctors who were luring women into the clinics, I have to chuckle as I remember watching women desperately climbing over the protestors in an effort to get IN to the abortion facility.

So, working with the clinic administrator, the escorts would arrange to meet the patient at a certain spot and walk in with her, the woman often holding something over her head so as not to be identified.  While it was a serious and often tense situation, I always had the sense that some of the escorts were really getting into this, that it really got their juices flowing.  That was probably because, if I had to stereotype them, I would say many of them were baby boomers, perhaps waning for the days of the 60’s and political causes.  Still, whatever their motivation, they were generally most welcome.

At some point, however, things started to get a little strange.  In 1994, I visited a clinic in Colorado because I had heard that Operation Rescue was going to be there in force that Saturday.  I hadn’t seen OR in action for a while, so – with the clinic’s permission – I flew out to take a look.  That Saturday, at 5:00 a.m., I got to the clinic and there were already about 15 escorts gathered in the front.  Working with the clinic administrator, they started to put together their plan for the day.  We were told that about 20 women were scheduled for the day, beginning at about 9:00.  So, the escorts split up the list, walked outside and anxiously awaited for the antis to start pulling up to the clinic.

We waited – and waited – and waited.

At about 8:45, a car pulled into the parking lot and a young woman got out of the driver’s seat.  She was on her cell phone as she started to walk up the steps to the clinic.  The escorts were perplexed.  There were no screaming mobs of antis to climb over or through.  Not one.  Finally, the escort who was assigned to this particular woman walked up to her, introduced herself to the young lady and accompanied her up the steps, right into the waiting room.

It was totally bizarre.

Then more cars started coming in and the other escorts went through the drill with their assigned patients.  They were all well-intentioned, of course, but I found the whole scene downright silly.  Finally, when there was a lull, I got everyone together, including the clinic administrator and suggested that we just leave.  “The women clearly don’t need us today.  Why don’t we leave them alone?”

The escorts were horrified.  They said it was their duty to escort the women, no matter what.  But the administrator, who was a little more attuned to the mindset of her patients, agreed wholeheartedly with me.  She thanked the escorts and politely asked them to leave.  They got all huffy, threatened to never come out again and left.

In retrospect, I think the escorts got caught up in the anticipated and lost their focus on the women, who probably didn’t want to see anybody that morning except the doctor.

The escorts meant well.   And they still do.  It was just interesting to me when there was a mixture of activists and medical people.  Sometimes they didn’t see eye to eye.

Stop Bullying Women

For many years, anti-abortion activists have lobbied their state legislatures to pass laws that require abortion clinics to share certain information with their patients.  These so-called “Right to Know” laws take many forms:  giving the patient a brochure that shows the stages of fetal development, taking an ultrasound and showing it to the woman, reciting a script to the patient that is a litany of things that can go wrong with an abortion, etc., etc.

Although the pro-choice movement regularly opposes these laws, I have written in the past about how the affect of these laws on the woman is rather minimal.  For example, most women casually look at the brochures, if at all, then toss them into

the garbage.  I’ve been in the rooms with woman as they observed their ultrasound, asked questions about the fetus then proceeded to have the abortion.  It’s all a rather big waste of time if you ask me, but if the anti-abortion movement wants to spend their time on this kind of stuff, go for it.  And, after all, it’s all well-intentioned, isn’t it?  Sure, they would prefer to make that woman’s act totally illegal, but since they can’t do that they want to make sure that a woman is making an informed choice.  How compassionate of them, huh?

Meanwhile, up in New York City, the City Council has taken a great interest in the activities of a number of “crisis pregnancy centers” that, according to testimony provided in a hearing, are engaging in “deceptive” practices designed to convince the woman that they are actually medical facilities.  It seems that the staff in some of these cpcs a

Ultrasound Before Abortion Procedure

re doing some interesting things.  For some reason, they are collecting personal and insurance information in the waiting room, the consultations are taking place on examination tables with the woman in the stirrups and “scrub suited consultants” are giving free pregnancy tests and ultrasounds.   On its face, it sounds a little deceptive to me but I’m sure these reports are not accurate because we’ve been told so many times that cpcs do not engage in this kind of behavior.

Still, this crazy ole City Council is concerned about this alleged behavior so they passed a law requiring the cpcs to post signs saying they have no doctors on site and don’t’ give advice about abortions or birth control.  Sounds kind of like the “Right to Know” laws that are being imposed on abortion clinics.

But, lo and behold, here comes the Alliance Defense Fund, a conservative Christian advocacy group, and they challenge the law, saying it would have violated the center’s right to free speech.  And, recently, a local judge agreed with them and slapped an injunction on the new law.

Putting aside all the legal mumbo-jumbo and the current status of the law, what I cannot sort out is why anti-abortion advocates want abortion clinics to inform women of everything but the kitchen sink, but when the NY City Council wants to ask them to give out just a little information about their centers, they balk at the idea?

Somebody help me here, please!

Abortion

Abortion

Angelita and Ricardo took their place in one of the last pews in the back of the church.   As always, the predominantly Spanish parishioners at the Good Sheppard Catholic Church have filled the building to the rafters.    Ever since the arrival of a new, dynamic priest named Father Guerrero, attendance has skyrocketed.

Today’s sermon was entitled “The Horrors of Abortion.”  For the next 20 minutes, Father Guerrero told the rapt audience how thousands of babies each day were being torn “limb by limb” from the mother’s womb, how the mothers would ultimately come to regret their heinous act and how God would be watching them commit this serious sin.  This particular church had always been on the cusp of anti- abortion activity, organizing buses to protest at the local “abortion mill.”  Two years ago, they erected a “Memorial to the Unborn” at the church’s entrance, a reminder to everyone entering God’s house that millions of babies had been aborted under his very eye.  Father Guerrero was asked to come to this church because of his zealous anti-abortion activism over the years.  He fit right in.

Abortion

Abortion

Meanwhile, as the good father went on, Angelita kept rubbing her stomach.  She was nine weeks pregnant and in two days she was going to have an abortion.

When the young couple had learned that Angelita was pregnant, at first they rejoiced.  Ricardo, perhaps playing that “machismo” card, could barely contain himself.  He couldn’t wait to tell his compadres at the construction site that he was going to be a father – preferably the father of a young, strapping boy.  Angelita, who was 19 at the time, was also excited at first but then quickly turned anxious.  After she finished high school, she had taken a year off to work at a local fast food restaurant to save money to attend the local community college where she hoped to study nursing.   Suddenly, she saw how her life was about to change.

Catholics and Abortion

Catholics and Abortion

A week or two later, after thinking a lot more about her and Ricardo’s future, she began to think about abortion.  She could not imagine raising a child at her age, giving up her dreams of being a nurse and the possibility of Ricardo having to get a second job to cover their new expenses.  But when she prayed to her God, she could only feel discomfort.  As a lifelong Catholic, she had been trained that just the slightest thought of abortion was abhorrent, that if she ever had one she would clearly spend eternity in hell.  Of course, she could not even think about going to her former priest, the one who had given her communion, had presided over her father’s funeral and had advised her on some many other personal issues.   And the new one was out of the question.  Meanwhile, she couldn’t talk to her friends or her family, as they were Catholic as well.  It was just she and Ricardo.

Within a few weeks, Ricardo’s enthusiasm about being a Dad had worn off as well as he started to anticipate his new responsibilities.  So, when Angelita – in tears – raised the possibility of abortion with him, he was more amenable than she thought he would be.   After a few agonizing days, they agreed to schedule an abortion.

Catholic Compassion

Catholic Compassion

And now, sitting in her house of worship that had been a source of comfort for so many years, she could only feel like an outcast.  When she walked by the statute in the front of the church, she became nauseous.  As she listened to her priest talk to HER about HER abortion, she could not make eye contact and it took all of her resolve to not burst out crying.

She and Ricardo needed help, not condemnation.  But in her desperate time of need, her church offered her no refuge.

Candidate's Speech

The candidate walks into the jam-packed auditorium at Calvin Coolidge High School.  The district he seeks to represent has elected both Republicans and Democrats.  The residents are independent thinkers who are very serious about the social issues of the day.  As the candidate strides up to the podium, he looks over the crowd and sees a number of pro-life and pro-choice signs.  It seems evenly divided.  Personally, the candidate believes abortion should be legal but has some concerns about its usage.  He is truly in the middle somewhere.  But the conventional wisdom says that the candidate should just put their lot into one of the camps and stick with that position.  This candidate is different and tonight his goal is to defy that conventional wisdom by appealing to the activists on both sides:

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.  I’ve been asked to give you my views on the abortion issue tonight.  Generally it is not an assignment that the average candidate looks forward to but I guess I’m a little different.  I’ve actually been excited about this prospect.

Let me start by saying that I respect those of you who are pro-life and those of you who are pro-choice.  This is probably the most controversial issue of our time and I honestly believe that all of you are well- intentioned.   Unfortunately, the media loves to focus on the negative, so they will cover the extremists on both sides.  That is not fair because I firmly believe that the average activist comes from a good place, has deep- seeded convictions and is not shy about expressing them.  Indeed, I applaud you all for standing up for what you believe.

Now, I’m gonna be straight with you.  I’m not the typical politician who tries to have it both ways.  You deserve to know where I stand.

I believe abortion must remain legal in this country.  To me, it is a matter of a woman’s health.  I am a great student of history and, as everyone knows, before abortion was legalized in this country, many women were dying from botched, unsafe back alley abortions or were being severely harmed.   We can all quibble about how many women we’re talking about but, for me, the numbers don’t matter.   Women will always seek out abortions and, if that is the case, then I prefer they be safe.

At the same time, however, I think the pro-choice folks need to fess up.  Abortion is a form of killing.  A woman sitting in the abortion clinic waiting room has something – and you can decide what you want to call that something – in her body.  It is something that, if not aborted, will ultimately become a child.  It is a living organism.  Indeed, if it was a wanted pregnancy, we would be calling it a “baby” from day one.  Then, when the woman leaves the clinic, that organism is no longer alive.  To me, that is “killing.”  It’s a sad process, one that no one wants to experience.   It’s a very sad fact of life.

Sides of the Issue

But here’s the good news.  The number of abortions in this country is decreasing.  It’s hard to say what is causing that trend, but I would like to give credit to both sides of the issue.  For example, the pro-choice folks like to emphasize birth control education.  The pro-lifers hope to “protect” women by pointing out how some women ultimately regret their abortions.  Whatever the reason, the number is going down and that is a good thing.

Now, although I support abortion, I am very concerned that some women might be getting later terms abortions for less than compelling reasons.   That’s why I would support banning third trimester abortions unless the woman’s life was endangered or if there was a possibility of her experiencing severe health consequences.   I don’t think a woman should have an abortion at that stage for some less-than-serious reason.

I will add that I can support the work of so-called crisis pregnancy centers as long as they are totally candid up front about their opposition to abortion.  If a woman clearly understands that she is basically going into a pro-life center andshe still wants to talk to them, then go for it.  I have no problem with that.   In addition, I will vigorously support the right of pro-life activists to protest in front of a clinic.   That is the essence of the First Amendment.

Although I support legal abortion, I am torn about the use of taxpayer’s dollars for abortions.   I understand how the pro-lifers don’t want their tax dollars used to fund something that they find morally objectionable and they have all the right in the world to try to pass laws restricting the use of those dollars.  Indeed, in my earlier days I supported efforts to de-fund the Vietnam War.   On the other hand, I am troubled by the thought of a woman on welfare with four children not being able to use her Medicaid card for an abortion because it means we all will be paying more money to help her raise yet another (unwanted) child.    It’s a tough one for me and I would like to sit down with representatives on both sides of that issue.

Abortion is not a black and white issue to me.  It is very, very complicated.  In the meantime, however, if I am elected to Congress I will work hard to make it easier for couples to adopt, I will support using federal dollars for contraceptives.   I will support any educational effort that has the same goal as we all do – to eliminate the need for abortion in this country.  I ask you all to consider supporting me.  I support legal abortion but I will work as hard as anybody to eliminate the need for it.

Thank you very much.

Senator Joe Pitts

Okay, it’s my turn to crow, to beat my breast, to confirm to all of you skeptics how smart I am.  I gotta do this because after all of these years, I remain an insecure person who needs the kudos where I can get them.  I need to claim victory when I’m right about something.  I blame my shortcomings on my dead mother who for many years tortured me mentally by telling me how worthless I was.  She also beat the crap out of me but, well, I digress.  Let me get off of the couch now.

In my last post entitled “Shall We Dance?” I talked about how the pro-choice groups were in a state of panic because Randall Terry, the now totally emasculated founder of the now practically defunct Operation Rescue, had a meeting with the Chief of Staff of the incoming Speaker of the House of Representatives, John Boehner.   I told everyone to calm down, that such a meeting was par for the course and that Terry would sent on his way, thinking he made some progress when, in fact, nothing dramatic would happen.

So, this morning in the New York Times, there is a headline entitled “Push for Stricter Abortion Limits is Expected in House.”  OMG!  Terry has done it!  They’re doing what he demanded – the end of legal abortion is in sight!  But then I took the unusual approach of actually reading the article and what I discovered confirmed exactly what I predicted in my last blog (applause).

The article notes that Representative Joe Pitts will now head the subcommittee that considers much of the anti-abortion legislation.  And, guess what he is going to do?  He is going to assure that no federal dollars will be used to pay for abortions.   How radical!  What a guy!  No doubt he is now Randall Terry’s hero and will soon receive a framed “Certificate of Appreciation” from Operation Rescue, assuming they can afford the paper and the frame.

Specifically, Pitts is targeting the new health care reform law and wants to insure that no one could use the

Randall Terry

new system to get an abortion.  Now, I don’t like this idea but my question is:  is that the best you got?  After all, no federal dollars have been spent for abortion for decades thanks to the late Congressman Henry Hyde.  This is your “pro-life agenda?”

Now, I don’t want to hear from the pro-choicers about how unfair this would be to women.  I get that piece, spare me the political rants.  You just gotta face it, we don’t have the votes to stop everything.  But if this is all they are going to do, then I say go ahead and waste your time on something that will hardly affect anyone. I mean, the fact is that the new health care centers will not even be offering abortion services folks. Just take this “defeat” and claim victory.

So, as I predicted, Randy Terry is probably telling his buddies how influential he is and, as I predicted, the new Congress won’t do anything that will curtail abortion rights in this country.

So, piss off, Mom.

I am smarter than you thought.

Capitol Hill Hallway

When I was the chief lobbyist for the National Abortion Rights Action League in the early 1980’s, I had absolutely no contact with abortion clinics.  Some people might find that ironic, but the fact was that I spent most of my time roaming the halls of Capitol Hill trying to stop legislative attacks on the right to abortion.  I never talked about the actual abortion procedure.  Abortion providers and their world were totally foreign to me. I just devoted my time to trying to preserve Roe v Wade and the constitutional right to privacy.

But like most Americans, I had a vision in my mind about what those abortion clinics looked like and how they operated.  It was not a nice vision because in some ways I had bought into the anti-abortion propaganda about the “abortion mills.”  And there was no one to rebut their claims as the clinics had no lobbyists, no public relations person.

Years later, when I joined the National Coalition of Abortion Providers, I realized that I had to get out there and visit the abortion clinics. So, I started making phone calls, asking the owners or administrators if they would mind if I came to their clinic for a visit. I expected to get mostly negative reactions, figuring they wouldn’t want me to see their clinics but the reaction was just the opposite.  Instead, people were thrilled that anyone from the “outside world” would want to see their facility.  They welcomed me with open arms.

The first abortion clinic I ever stepped into was the Raleigh Women’s Health Organization, a facility that was operated by my dear friend, Susan Hill.  I drove down on a Monday morning, met her at her house and we drove together to her clinic.  I was first struck when we pulled into a beautiful business park.  For some reason,  I had been prepared to wind up in the slums of Raleigh.  Instead, we turned a corner and I say a beautiful free-standing building surrounded by a number of mature oak trees and a sprawling green lawn.  And right out front, showing they had nothing to hide, was a sign saying “Raleigh Women’s Health Organization.”

We went through the front door and I lost my breath.  In the reception area were about 15 women sitting together.  The room was pristine with sunlight coming through the skylights and there was a whiff of lavender in the air.  I then noticed several fresh Iris plants in tall vases.  Classical music was being piped in through the facility.  I was stunned – and embarrassed because I had been expecting something much worse.

We went back to the staff room for some coffee, then Susan introduced me to her two (surprisingly)

Waiting Room

young doctors.  They were not the sleazeball “abortionists” that I had envisioned.  They were Ob-Gyns with diplomas from the top medical schools and what came across during our conversation was how proud they were of the work they were performing. The rest of the staff had the same positive attitude.  For a place that was hosting women in less than ideal circumstances, the clinic was a surprisingly upbeat place.

Later on, when most of the patients were done with their procedure, Susan escorted me into the recovery room.  There were about 10 women resting in warm, fuzzy reclining chairs with warm, fuzzy afghans.  They were sipping some kind of tea and eating cookies.  I was surprised that some were talking to each other.  I’m not saying that they were having a downright party but it was nothing like I had expected.

When it was time for me to leave, I said goodbye to the staff and thanked them for all the great work they were performing.   Then I walked outside and saw my first anti-abortion protestors.  They had apparently come just after I entered the clinic (which I never understood because they had missed their chance to harass the women as they came into the facility).  There were about thirty of them, all men, holding very ugly signs and screaming at me.  There was no way they could have known who I was but they probably just assumed I was associated with the clinic.

At that very moment, I actually felt my first surge of pride as the representative for the clinics.  I was emboldened and anxious to go back to Washington, D.C. to represent the staff at the Raleigh Women’s Health Organization and the hundreds of other clinics like them across the country.

I learned that day that abortion facilities were mere medical offices but with a special touch.  I learned that the anti-abortion propaganda that I had been listening to for years was just that – propaganda.  And I learned that the real “ugliness” in the abortion field was outside the clinic, not inside.

Abortion

In early 1991, just months after the formation of the National Coalition of Abortion Providers, I hopped in a car and drove around the Midwest visiting clinics to get educated on the provision of abortion services.  One of my first stops was at a clinic in Arkansas.

I had a good initial meeting with the physician (who offered me a joint that he had been keeping in his desk drawer), then I met with the administrator for about two hours to discuss how clinics are run.  Very educational.  At one point, we started talking about the reasons why women have abortions and I mentioned how I’d love to meet a woman who was going to have an abortion.  The administrator responded “well, that shouldn’t be a problem.  You need to talk to Gloria.”

I learned that Gloria was in for her 6th abortion.  I couldn’t believe it and my initial reaction was that I needed to know why this was happening because, if I was going to represent abortion providers on Capitol Hill, I needed to know how to respond to charges of women “abusing” abortion. The administrator left the room to ask Gloria if she was willing to talk to me and she came back within a minute and said that Gloria would “love” to talk to me.

Gloria was in her mid-thirties.  She was what my father would call “a sassy broad.”  She was very confident, had a bee-hive hairdo and, from the crusty tone of her voice, a heavy smoker.  She was chewing gum as we spoke.  Probably worked as a waitress at the local diner.  You get the picture..

I told her that I was just hired to fight for abortion rights, which she appreciated, then I told her I needed to know why she was at the clinic for her sixth abortion.

“Well,’ she said, “the first time the condom broke.  The next time my boyfriend said he didn’t want to use a condom and threatened to beat me if I insisted on using one.  The third time, I had gone on new birth control pills and there was some problem with them, don’t remember the details.  The fourth time, I was raped by two truckers outside of the Rusty Skillet café in Little Rock.  The fifth time.  Geez, I can’t remember what happened the fifth time.  Then this time I was just playing Lady’s Luck.”

Medical Office

“What is Lady’s Luck?” I asked.

“Well, I was not on birth control, didn’t want to use a condom so I just kept my fingers crossed and hoped that I had good luck.  I actually should have just kept my legs crossed, huh?”

During her story, she kept cracking her gum and when she was done she looked at me coldly and said “Any more questions?”

I asked how she felt at that moment, knowing she’d be going in for anotherabortion in about 30 minutes.  She said she felt fine.  “I’ve been through this before, I know what to expect.”   She was a rock, ready to get on with her life.  Then, to my surprise, she asked me if I wanted to go in with her to the surgery room.  I said yes.

We walked in and the nurse put her on the table and started prepping her.  Then the doctor came in and said a few words to her before he got started.  Gloria looked at me and then reached her hand out to me. I grabbed it and she squeezed.  I then saw the doctor insert a tube into her and heard a vacuum-like sound.  I looked at Gloria and she had tears in her eyes.  I asked if she was okay and she said “I am such a loser.  I have got to get my act together.”  I started to well up myself.  The nurse asked if she wanted to proceed and Gloria said “let’s do it” and the process was complete within minutes.

Abortion

Later, in the recovery room Gloria was her old feisty, gum cracking self, ready to go out to her cold harsh world and kick some ass.  She hugged me as she was leaving and said “thanks for being there.”

When she left, the nurse came over to me and said “she cries all the time.  We always ask her if she really wants to do this and she always tells us yes.”

Thanks for the education, Gloria, you sassy ole broad….

A short rant, if I may.

I read with interest the October 24 edition of “Evening Hours” in the New York Times which

NYT Evening Hour

reported on events around the city benefiting the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian, the Korean American Community Foundation, the Frick Collection, the Norman Mailer Center and the International Fine Art and Antique Dealers.  Lots of pictures of people in evening gowns and tuxedos.

Then, in the middle of the page, there was mention of a “dinner” at the Pierre hotel where people were celebrating “50 years of women’s advances since the birth control pill.”  There was no mention of who was having the party.

Was not that dinner hosted by a particular organization?  Or did a bunch of folks, including Cybill Shepard, just happen to be in the neighborhood and decided to party for the night?

I know exactly what is going on here.  Even the liberal New York Times felt they shouldn’t stir things up by mentioning that the party was hosted by the National Abortion and Reproductive Rights Action League.

Shame on you, New York Times…

On January 22, 1973 the U.S. Supreme Court handed down the Roe v Wade decision which declared that the constitutional right to privacy extended to abortion.  Supporters of legal abortion rejoiced, although some did object to the fact that the decision allowed some restrictions on the procedure.  At the same time, the pro-life movement declared it as a dark day in history.

Over the next few years, however, the pro-life movement actually took “possession” of January 22.  They started organizing large rallies on that day across the country and ultimately launched the annual “March for Life” where hundreds of thousands of pro-lifers came to Washington, D.C. to express their opposition to legal abortion.  The pro-choice movement could only watch feebly from the sidelines.

Abortion

In late 1997, as a staff person for the National Coalition of Abortion Providers, it dawned on me that the next January 22nd would be the 25th anniversary of Roe v Wade.  I started to think about how we could “take back” that day.  Remember that this was a time when abortion providers were under attack.  The bullets were flying, clinics were being bombed, every day was another battle in the constant war.  Ironically, I came up with the idea of actually having a party, a celebration commemorating the work of the doctors and staff at the abortion clinics.  Indeed, for years at the annual NCAP conference, we always had a dinner dance to help us wind down after a full day of seminars and lectures.

But I started wondering why we shouldn’t go a step further?  I had been in Washington, D.C. long enough to know that other organizations, from the realtors to the bankers, regularly had formal, black tie parties.  Why couldn’t we do the same thing?  Why not have a real “grown up” party?

At first, some of our members were reluctant.  It was almost as if it would be a sacrilege for the doctors and staff to “dress up.”  But within a few weeks, the idea spread like wildfire.   On email and over the telephone, people started talking about what they were going to wear, how they needed to rent a tuxedo and other logistical issues.  While they were still nervous opening up their car doors, I could tell they were even more nervous about how they were going to do their hair that night.

To make the evening extra special, I booked the main ballroom at the famous Mayflower Hotel in Washington, D.C.  I then spent weeks looking for a live band and finally found one that I liked.   Everything was in place.

Since they were in town anyway, we offered our members a series of lectures during the day.  They sat through speeches on “head and heart” counseling and how to advertise on the Internet, but it was clear that no one was concentrating.   They were thinking of their “coming out” party.  Finally, the time arrived.  My staff and I got there early and stood at the door greeting folks as they shuffled in.  I was literally taken aback.  I had gotten to know these folks intimately, had talked to them for years about the protestors and the murders, was accustomed to seeing them in their scrubs or casual “clinic wear,” but now they were coming into the room with flowing gowns and jewelry that had been in storage for years.  Instead of bullet proof vests, the male doctors now had shiny tuxedos.  They were different people.  They were finally having fun, getting all “gussied up” as one person put it.  The music, the food and, yes, the booze flowed all night.

A few weeks earlier, I had spoken with a writer for the “Style” section of the Washington Post and she thought it was fascinating that abortion providers would even consider having a party.  I invited her to come and she readily accepted.  The next morning, after a very long night of revelry, our conference attendees had copies of the Post delivered to their hotel rooms and there on the front page was an article entitled “Dinner Break From a Hot Issue.”   The joy of those interviewed jumped from the pages.  Doctors who drove to

Abortion

their clinics with blankets over their heads for security purposes openly talked to the reporter about the great time they were having for that one evening.   Clinic owners spoke candidly about how proud they were of the work they performed.  Directors of clinics talked about the women they served and about whose gown they were wearing.   We had created an alternate world for one magical evening.

Within a few days, everyone was back at their clinics.  Waiting for them were the local protestors, the anonymous phone calls, the nasty unsigned letters and the myriad of issues that come up daily in a medical facility.  But for weeks, they just talked about “the party.”

On that night, we had taken back Roe v Wade.

« Previous PageNext Page »