Sunday, December 13, 2009
The pain doesn't stop, but my only consolation to myself is that I must make every effort to prevent that pain from befalling anyone...especially girls like Jane who should never have crossed paths with him. It was my inaction that led to her pain, and that is a burden I have to live with forever. Yet it is more so a burden because there is more than Jane. There is also Mary, Elizabeth, Jenny, Ashley, Nicole, and who knows how many girls whose lives were thrown off-course by him because I didn't take action.
It hurts to tell. But it hurts more not to tell.
Monday, June 8, 2009
And second, because this was a choice. When you have children, literally from the moment you realize you're pregnant till the day they go off to college, your days are filled with choices — about birth plans, breastfeeding, diaper types, potty training, preschool curricula, sports and activities, clothing and Internet use, dating and driving, and on and on. But when your pregnancy takes the kind of turn mine did, all your mothering boils down to one choice — and I chose to spare my child the suffering of a brief, painful life. Of all the million and one things I wished I could be doing for this child, the only act of love circumstances allowed me to perform was this one. The women who went to Dr. Tiller made the same choice, under even more excruciating circumstances. Now that he's gone, who will help women like them?
Read her full perspective HERE.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
An Open Letter to 21 Million Women-
Where are you?
For over 16 years we have provided
you with choices
I sometimes cried with you.
Choices, nevertheless, when you were desperate.
Remember how we protected your privacy
and treated you with dignity and respect
had been brought to us in shackles
with an armed guard, or
that you would run into
one of your students?
I remember each of you.
Our clinic was firebombed.
Do you recall?
Exhausted and terrified we had
been up all night.
We rerouted you to another clinic
because you wanted an abortion that day.
Where are you?
Priding ourselves on providing abortions for
those who cannot pay, we have spent millions
of dollars that we never really
had caring for you. We wanted
to give a choice.
I also gave you cab fare and
money for dinner from my own pocket.
Have you forgotten?
I remember you cried and asked me how
you could carry this pregnancy to term when
you were abusing the children you had,
were having an affair,
tested positive for AIDS,
could not handle another,
were raped by your mother’s boyfriend,
pregnant by your father and
shocked and torn apart when
your very much wanted and loved
fetus was found to be
Your mother picketed our clinic
regularly. We brought you in after dark.
Have you mustered the courage
to tell her that you are pro-choice?
I recall shielding your shaking body, guiding you
and you husband through the picket lines.
They screamed adoption, not abortion!
You wondered how you could explain your
choice to your young children.
You broke our hearts.
You had just celebrated your twelfth birthday
when you came to us. You clutched
your teddy bear, sucked your thumb
and cried out for your mom who asked
you why you had gotten yourself pregnant.
You replied that you just wanted to be grown.
You’re twenty today.
Where are you?
I pretend I don’t know you in the market,
at social gatherings and on the street.
I told you I would.
After your procedure you told me that you would
fight for reproductive choices (parenthood,
adoption, and abortion) for your mother, daughters,
and grandchildren. You will . . . won’t you?
I have no regrets. I care about
each and every one of you and
treasure all that you’ve taught me.
But I’m angry. I can’t do this alone.
I’m not asking you to speak about your abortion, but
You need to speak out and you need to speak
out now. Where are you?
In memory of Dr. Tiller, don't we owe him at the very least to stand up for women's right to choose and to speak out?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
This book came at an important point in my life right as I was slowly realizing that the events in my life had helped me discover my inner feminist. There were stories that made me smile, and stories that made me writhe with anger. And at the same time, there were stories that made me cry when I realized that the pain I went through was not singular to me, but something that united me with women who I had never met and would never meet.
Cunt: A Declaration of Independence
In the 35 years since Roe v. Wade, human stories and hard science have been the
dueling weapons of the abortion wars. Abortion opponents have presented
emotional accounts of the destruction of fetuses -- and, more recently, tales of
distress from women who regret their abortions. Supporters of legal abortion
have often countered with data on the decline in backstreet abortions and
improvements in women's health and welfare.
So it's a welcome change to see
two new books in which the pro-life and pro-choice camps switch their usual
tactics. In This Common Secret, Susan Wicklund tells riveting stories about
patients she has treated during nearly 20 years as an abortion provider.
Meanwhile, in Embryo, Robert P. George and Christopher Tollefsen argue on
scientific and philosophical grounds that from its first moment as a one-cell
organism, the embryo is a living human being and, thus, entitled to legal
protection. If Wicklund's book is the more effective, perhaps that's because
she's not claiming to prove one objective truth, just conveying her own
experience -- and because she has good, multifaceted stories to tell.
26-year-old single mother working part-time and getting by on welfare and food
stamps, Susan Wicklund became one of the first members of her large Wisconsin
family to go to college. Before she decided to become a doctor and specialize in
women's health, she had her own abortion to surmount -- a 1976 procedure that
she did not understand, and that she sobbed and fought her way through until a
doctor told her to shut up and drugged her. This horror story could come
straight out of an anti-abortion pamphlet were it not for the determination
Wicklund drew from it as she began medical school: "I could make sure my
patients were treated differently than I had been -- with respect and decency.
The memory of my own abortion troubled me, but it also hardened my resolve."
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Ultimately, MY LITTLE RED BOOK is more than a collection of stories. It is a call for a change in attitude, for a new way of seeing periods. In a time when the taboo around menstruation seems to be one of the few left standing, it makes a difficult subject easier to talk about, and helps girls feel proud instead of embarrassed or ashamed.
Menstruating is nothing to be ashamed about. Nor is being a woman anything to be ashamed about. Get reading!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Before we start categorizing and assigning moral value to this news story, take a moment to think about the social commentary this girl is making by auctioning her virginity. After all, it IS her body and it IS her choice. As a culture, we treat sex as a commodity anyways, so why not just do away with the pretenses and admit it?