Right now, in my great state, a female senator is holding a filibuster to prevent a a vote of the state senate to pass even more stringent legislation on abortion. I watched for several hours today - it was fascinating.
For the bulk of what I viewed, the senator read letters from various constituents from across the state, expressing their support for the bill, often in spite of their personal or religious feelings on the matter. It was interesting to hear their stories, their rationale, their struggle.
Much like many of the women (and a few men) who wrote letters, I am middle-class. I have good insurance so I've been able to get and maintain birth control for the bulk of my adult years. There was a time when I was in college, however, that I was not insured and I used the nearby Planned Parenthood to ensure my feminine health and safety. That same Planned Parenthood provided thousands upon thousands of condoms to our dorms to ensure that students always had a way to practice safe sex if they chose to engage in sexual activity. At that time, I was still "pure" but still saw the behaviors - and thus the need - for the condoms to be available to my residents. Like most people, prevention is key. Prevention wholly keeps the current filibuster much less serious.
And before I forget, support for Planned Parenthood - the very institution that taught me to care for my body as a young woman - was slashed in the last legislative session.
Prevention is an issue unto itself. Prevention starts with education. My mom chose to educate me with books and a good follow-up conversation. I distinctly remember Preparing for Adolescence, by Dr. James Dobson, which on the top of page 87 (or thereabouts), the actual act of intercourse is described in one paragraph: in missionary. When you make sex that bland, it's no wonder I held out. Nevertheless, I was able to discuss the topic with my mom. When I had pink eye in high school and went to the doctor, she took that opportunity to ask if I needed to be on birth control while waiting for the doc to enter the room. It was a definite "no."
But my relative suburban utopia would look a lot different in college. I had neighbors in the dorm who were on food stamps and already had kids. We all took Dr. Johnson's (shit you not) Human Sexuality class. He was both funny and serious, open and honest, and adamant that student never, ever feel awkward about such a sensitive topic. 3 frat boys were separated after the first class meeting for laughing and making rather distateful comments during the introductory video.
All of that to say that I had avenues for education and access. I worry about what kids learn. As much as I would love to believe that everyone will hold out until they're married and with their forever partner - that's where my Christian heart exists - the reality that I see EVERY day walking the halls of my college are young women, pregnant to the teeth, without much money, no support from the father, and her trying despite against all the odds that she is going to make a better life for herself. Does the cycle continue? Will she be able to get the knowledge, the education, the resources to prevent pregnancy for her offspring? Or will she not make it, and spin the cycle again, only to see her children walk in her footsteps - pregnant too early and without knowledge or resources?
And speaking of those in poverty, while the bill doesn't make abortion illegal, it narrows the locations where legal abortions can take place - to 5 locations. I live in a rather large state, and that effectively leaves the entire western half of our state with upwards of an 8-hour drive to receive an abortion. Furthermore, if a doctor manages to upgrade the clinic, they must have hospital admitting priviliges within 30 miles... in this state, you might not pass another tree in 30 miles! While I don't have proof, I believe that half of the state is more impoverished and is less likely to engage in or have access to birth control.
Because the bill reduces the time for an abortion to be legally conducted, women who encounter difficult pregnancies after the initial 20 weeks (of conception, not 20 weeks after missed period... effectively reducing the window by up to 7 critical weeks) would not be able to save themselves if their lives were in jeopardy. While I am Christian, it was interesting to hear the perspective of a Jewish person who described that, in his faith, the woman's body taking precedent over that of the fetus.
But the bigger picture is this: In a lop-sided congress where party lines are clearly drawn and strictly adhered to, and where men still rule with an wooden gavel, I'm appalled by the notion that legislators would know what's better for me more than my doctor, my partner, my family or myself. Aren't there more stately matters that need tending to? If this bill is passed, what's the next thing to go?
