For years, I’ve been complacent. Oh, I sent money. I slapped on bumper stickers. I voted for the right politicians. I swore at the passage of the latest restrictive statute. I sighed when a court ruling was announced. I shook my head in disgust upon learning that another doctor had felt compelled to buy a bulletproof vest or a shoulder holster. I got into a cocktail party argument every now and again. All along, I called myself pro-choice. A backer of reproductive rights. But, like a lot of people I know, I was lazy about it. Stupidly lazy. No more.
Here are three reasons why:
Bill Napoli
Julie Bartling
Mike Rounds
While hundreds, maybe thousands, of bloggers have ranted and screamed and generally carried on about Republican Senator Bill Napoli, Democratic Senator Julie Bartling, Republican Governor Mike Rounds and their compatriots for enacting a rapist-friendly, molester-enabling, coathanger-selling, health-shattering, woman-hating, forced-pregnancy law, I come here not to trash but to thank them and all their like-minded fellows in the South Dakota legislature for taking one great whopping chomp out of reproductive rights and doing what decades of nibbling away couldn’t do – blast me out of my complacency.
I hear those whispers. Sure took you a long time. Yes. Agreed. I didn’t take what was happening seriously enough. Mea culpa.
This wasn’t always true.
Thirty-three years ago, just a couple of months after Roe v. Wade was decided, Dr. Bob MacFarland and 14 more of us got together in Boulder County, Colorado, to set up the Boulder Valley Clinic. It was the state’s first standalone abortion clinic, and, so far as I know, the first nonprofit abortion clinic in the United States.
We came from various walks of life – physicians, a nurse, two lawyers, a journalist, a professor, a librarian, a minister, two graduate students. Three of us were Republican women, veteran volunteers of Planned Parenthood. Our common goal: to provide women with a place to obtain the safe abortions the Supreme Court had ruled was their constitutional right.
To get the project underway, we sought the assistance of Dr. Warren Hern, a former Peace Corps volunteer who had worked with nascent federal family planning services and had more experience and knowledge about abortion than anyone we knew. After a series of meetings, we asked him to put together a plan for the clinic with him as medical director. We appointed ourselves to the clinic’s board, hired an executive director, and, in November, 1973, opened our doors.
Abortion foes attacked us immediately, incessantly, from the Op-Ed pages of the local newspapers. Some legislators and city councilmembers, numerous doctors, and, of course, fanatics of the not-yet-named “right-to-life” community did their worst to shut us down.
We were slandered and libeled repeatedly. Aborted fetuses, it was ridiculously claimed, were being dumped in cans in the alley behind the clinic, to be hauled away once a week by garbage trucks. Dr. Hern, the clinic’s employees, and every member of the board received phoned and written death threats. Tires were slashed. Rocks were thrown through windows. Graffiti was sprayed. In early 1975, the clinic was the first of scores in the nation to be fire-bombed, with a Molotov cocktail. The terrorists struck at night, and either through bad aim or some other miscalculation in the darkness, set our garage on fire, which was quickly extinguished.
Many a day one or more of us stood sentinel while sometimes aggressive foes of the clinic picketed, shouted Bible verses or epithets at patients and staff, or jostled and grabbed women in an attempt to persuade or intimidate them not to follow through on the choice they had made. We filled out dozens of police-incident reports.
When I moved, I left the board. But during the 1980s and early 1990s, I frequently stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the sidewalk with other pro-choice women and men in front of this or that clinic, blocking harassers engaged in a kind of guerrilla warfare, first in Denver, then in California. In Los Angeles, shoving matches at clinics under assault by Operation Rescue sometimes developed into fist-fights, spurring me, at the age of 45, to return to the study of martial arts.
Over time, however, as the worst of the clinic protests receded, so did my activism. I still contributed financially to NARAL and to Planned Parenthood. And, occasionally, I wrote a letter to the editor or a legislator or governor complaining about the latest Targeted Regulation of Abortion Providers (TRAP) law or so-called “counseling” laws or parental notification laws.
While the number of America’s hospitals that perform abortions dropped to less than 10% and the percentage of counties with abortion providers dropped to 13%, I let the Randall Terrys and other fanatics of the religious right steadily eviscerate reproductive rights without doing nearly as much as I might, behaving as if I were the proverbial frog in a slowly boiling saucepan.
So, again, I say, thank you, South Dakota legislators and Governor Rounds for the match and the kerosene. You’ve lit a fire under my butt. And it’s obvious I’m not alone. Although some of the bloggers noted below had been taking note of the shrinking of abortion rights long before now, a ferocity has appeared that for most wasn’t there a little while ago. The list represents just a teensy portion of the whole:
For the women of South Dakota: an abortion manual by Molly at Molly Saves the Day
All abortion all the time by Jill at Feministe.
Let me tell you a story by Damnit Janet.
Little Girl Lost by SallyCat.
Why Senator Bill Napoli is an arsehole” by Marnanel.
Now the Battle Begins by Todd D. Epp.
So, when do we start worrying about issues. 10 states planning abortion bans by floridagal.
Unintended Consequences by Jane Hamsher.
The Sodomized Virgin Exception by digby
Christofascist Neocon Zombie Brigade on Patrol by Maryscott O’Connor.
Incongruous Convictions by Georgia10.
Wingnut Petri Dish by Mike Stark.
In South Dakota, I Am Disposable by SusanG.
South Dakota Governor Signs Abortion Ban by Steve Soto.
Faith Is Believing What You Know Ain’t So by moiv.
What South Dakota has done, and what Mississippi and Kansas and a dozen or so other states are getting ready to do makes up only one battle in a longstanding rightwing war on women that has found too many of us AWOL.
For those who might suggest this is one of those damned “social issues” that gets the Democrats in trouble on election day, let’s not forget that it’s at its core a class war. Even if safe abortions were made illegal countrywide, as the right has been seeking to do since January 1973, affluent women would find a way, a discreet doctor, a friend with access to smuggled RU 486, a trip to Canada or Japan, or anywhere else the operation can be done for somebody with money. Less affluent women will have access to abortions, too, unhealthy, maiming and sometimes lethal abortions of the sort their mothers or grandmothers had to resort to.
Unlicensed doctor abortions. Self-administered abortions.
By the time the case arguing against the South Dakota law or the law from Mississippi or some other abortion-banning state gets to the Supreme Court, somebody else could be gone from the bench, replaced by another Roberts or Alito or Scalia or Thomas, and Roe might be history. As this probable possibility sinks in, it would be easy to go from rage to despair, and from there to political paralysis. That can’t be allowed to happen. I know I’ll be part of the counterattack.
Obviously, one focus for anyone who considers reproductive freedom a priority is getting more pro-choice Senators elected. But, given the large number of Democratic Senators who claim to be pro-choice yet haven’t been willing to quash anti-choice Supreme Court nominees, it’s debatable how much such electoral efforts can be expected to achieve. At this late date, we need serious alternatives – additions, not substitutes – to that strategy.
If we direct the fury that the folks in Pierre have inflamed in us, we could by the time the High Courst rules, be far along in creating state enclaves where any American can continue to obtain an abortion. California, New York, Illinois, Oregon, Massachusetts, Connecticut and maybe, with luck and perseverance, a dozen, or at least half a dozen, other states could be secured as places where reproductive freedom will not go extinct.
I intend to find out over the next few months what I can do to make my state one of those havens. I’m lucky to live where that will be perhaps easier than anywhere: California. For one thing, “pro-life” elected Democrats are scarce here.
More difficult will be the task of coming up with a continuing source of funding so that women can travel from South Dakota or Mississippi or Missouri to a state where they can obtain an abortion even if their pocketbooks are empty. Then there’s how to deal with minors crossing state lines without their parents’ knowledge. Plus a host of other relevant matters.
I’m not a Pollyanna. Success in this endeavor will require a gargantuan effort. The forces arrayed against it are savvy and relentless. I freely admit that I don’t know exactly how to go about all this. Starting today, however, for the first time in a decade, I’m going to seek out people on the front-lines of this fight and learn what can be done, what I personally can do.
Like every other pro-choice person I know, I’m not a one-issue voter, and never will be. We’ve got an out-of-control foreign policy, reckless rich-people-first economics, an assault on the public sector and the environment, and undermining of civil liberties. All must be addressed, and I am in no way saying this is the only matter that anyone should care about. But South Dakota ought to be persuasive evidence for everyone who was not yet persuaded that a crucial aspect of personal freedom is about to be extinguished unless we mount a renewed and vigorous counterattack. I’ve saddled up.
= = =
What to do:
Educate: In the past decade, nearly 500 state laws have been enacted to restrict choice. Every state has passed at least one such law. Since Bush was selected president, more than 2500 abortion-restricting bills have been introduced at the state level, and 200 have passed. A good first step is to learn the laws in your state and the stance of various officials, particularly those who are vulnerable in upcoming elections.
Some helpful beginnings can be found at the National Abortion Federation. NARAL maintains a state bill tracker on its Web site, as does the Center for Reproductive Rights.
Donate: For anyone reluctant to contribute to NARAL because of what s/he views as the organization’s recent political missteps, the National Abortion Federation, the youth-orientedChoice USA, the internationally focused lpas and the venerable Planned Parenthood Federation are just a few of the organizations that can use your cash. If there is a local pro-choice group doing good work, so much the better.
Activate: Let’s not kid ourselves, counterattacking will be exceedingly tough. We don’t know yet how the Supreme Court may react, or when, or how far-reaching will be any ruling it makes. We do know, however, that restrictive state laws will continue to be enacted because the foes of reproductive freedom will not give up. We must be as relentless as they.
On the electoral front, that means supporting pro-choice challengers to anti-choice incumbents and doing what we can to squeeze anti-choicers in safe districts, both at the state and federal level.
There are two other immediate actions you can take:
Thursday: National Day of Solidarity with South Dakota. Events are planned in at least 14 cities around the country. Join if you can.
Friday: Tenth Annual National Day of Appreciation for Abortion Providers. On March 10, 1993, Dr. David Gunn was the first provider to be assassinated by an anti-abortion extremist. It goes without saying that without abortion providers, there can be no choice. Call a talk show and express support. Send local clinic staff a card of appreciation. Bring them flowers or a basket of bagels. Volunteer to be a clinic escort. “Adopt” the clinic as a group or personal project. Ask local providers how else you can help. Let them know that their essential contribution to reproductive freedom is valued in your community.
