Fear and fury. Honest emotions after listening to an NPR piece on the mid-term USA elections and hearing a woman refer to abortion as “a human rights atrocity happening inside our country.” A human rights atrocity?! Wait, what? Human rights atrocities in the US are children gunned down in schools, homeless kids trafficked for sex and labor, women battered by intimate partners, people of color unfairly targeted/labeled as criminals--incarcerated in disproportionate numbers, historically lynched...enslaved.
Calling abortion a human rights atrocity equates women who choose to end pregnancy with those perpetrating heinous crimes against humanity. It’s a call to arms, to possible violence--this my fear--in a world where violence has become the order of the day. The day I listened to the NPR piece, four members of a far-right group were finally charged for violently attacking counter protesters (the evidence was there a year ago)…and pipe bombs were delivered to Trump critics.
And my fury? What gives this woman the right to make such a pronouncement? Is she privy to the mystery of the beginning of life--of personhood--a mystery long pondered by theologians, leading people of sincere faith to hold different viewpoints on abortion? Has she no sense of balance or priority in light of the rollback of human rights around the world? Are potential lives more important than the lives of those suffering and dying in wars, in ethnic cleansing campaigns, in famines?
Who is she? Too troubled by her words to catch her name, I played the NPR piece again. Kristan Hawkins, president of Students for Life of America. Their website declares: “We are the Pro-Life Generation and we will abolish abortion.” References to an army. And this vision: “Once they feel that they can defend their anti-abortion beliefs, young people will take their passion for ending abortion and put it into action, sacrificing everything they can to save lives, change hearts, and transform our nation.”
That vision alarms me. It is simplistic and narrow, ignoring wider woes troubling America.
That vision alarms me. It is simplistic and narrow, ignoring wider woes troubling America.
I read about the organization's history, supporters, goals. Looked at photos of fresh-faced, mostly white students. Was touched by their efforts to support pregnant women on college campuses in practical ways...but wondered why they would not put at least equal effort into helping students prevent pregnancy (irony in the fact that their avowed enemy Planned Parenthood has long been a resource for pregnancy prevention). And what about addressing sexual coercion and assault--historically under-reported on campuses--that sometimes result in pregnancy?
Students for Life promotes non-violent confrontations, but I sense a kind of violence--or at least a will to dominate--in the black and white approach to women who find themselves pregnant. Phrases I saw on the website--those who oppose equality for the preborn, and a person is a person no matter how small--trouble me. They indicate presumption about personhood rather than humility in the face of mystery. And they ignore the individual and broader social complexities of unwanted/unplanned pregnancy.
Students for Life promotes non-violent confrontations, but I sense a kind of violence--or at least a will to dominate--in the black and white approach to women who find themselves pregnant. Phrases I saw on the website--those who oppose equality for the preborn, and a person is a person no matter how small--trouble me. They indicate presumption about personhood rather than humility in the face of mystery. And they ignore the individual and broader social complexities of unwanted/unplanned pregnancy.
I had an abortion in 1984, aged 32, following acquaintance rape by a married man. The rape happened just days before leaving Africa after six years of teaching nursing and working with Zambia Nurses Christian Fellowship. My decision-making process? I reread a Christian Medical Society book outlining various views on the fetus and abortion, based on various interpretations of Scripture. I reflected, prayed, and was exposed to an OB/GYN physician in Colorado Springs (then home to many conservative para-church organizations) who told me it would be murder. I did not sense that God considered it murder; I sensed His compassion for me in my struggle to make the best decision in a complex situation. Supported by my parents, I found one of three physicians providing abortions in the city. I experienced no ill consequences—physical, emotional, or spiritual. In recent years, working with high risk families, I've helped women plan for pregnancy, and empathized with those facing unplanned pregnancy—some of whom chose abortion, some not.
