I had a fierce sense of justice when I was younger. I got in trouble in elementary school for pouring strawberry applesauce on the white basketball shorts of a boy who was bullying my friend. In church, when our Sunday school teacher would ask for “strong boys” to volunteer to put away folding chairs, I would carry as many chairs as I could under my small arms, to drive home the point that girls are strong, too.
After high school, I left my hometown and moved to Memphis for college. Sophomore year, I interned at Planned Parenthood. It was there that I learned about how much Planned Parenthood does for accessible healthcare outside of abortions, including but not limited to cancer screenings, prenatal care, and STD screenings and treatments. I also learned that we were expected to maintain a sense of decorum in the face of the pro-life protesters who set up camp outside of the building daily. We were not to give them any reason to harm us, defame Planned Parenthood, or paint us as angry or irrational. One day as I was walking into my internship, one of the protestors yelled at me, “Murderer! You are going to Hell for killing your baby!” She had so much venom and hatred in her voice, it took everything in me not to respond. Another thing I learned as a Planned Parenthood intern was that, quite commonly, people who once protested outside of the building would come in to seek abortions for themselves or for a loved one. We were not to chastise or shame these people. A few weeks after the protestor yelled at me, I came to Planned Parenthood as a patient to get tested for STDs. The same woman who had screamed at me weeks before was sitting in the waiting room, holding her stomach and impatiently tapping her foot. We made brief eye contact, and she turned her face away.
In college, I had multiple friends seek abortions. Each of them had a good reason, not that any of them owed that to anyone. One of my friends was raped and told me stone-faced that if she was forced to deliver her rapists’ baby, she would kill herself. I believe her. I have read first-hand accounts from people who lived pre-Roe v. Wade, who have similar stories but with sadder outcomes: Their friends died, by their own hand or by botched back-alley abortions. Restricting access to abortion causes death and suffering. I have friends who would not be thriving, or would not be here at all, if they were denied access to abortion. Several of my friends ,who had abortions when we were young, now have happy, healthy, wanted children.
The legality of Roe v. Wade stands upon the concept that we as adult citizens of the United States have a right to privacy and equal protections, based upon the 14th Amendment to the Constitution. Other Supreme Court decisions based on the same amendment include Brown v. Board of Education, which desegregated schools, and Loving v. Virginia, which federally legalized interracial marriage. If the Supreme Court can overturn a landmark case providing equal reproductive rights, they may seek to overturn other civil rights decisions. Our very right to privacy is at stake. In fact, this is already happening to transgender and gay people who are having their rights eroded nationally. These struggles for bodily autonomy are linked together. Our fellow citizens facing injustice is a threat to all justice itself.
The history of the “pro-life” movement is steeped in racism. In the 1960s, before Roe v. Wade passed, being anti-abortion was seen as a “Catholic issue,” and supporting access to abortion in cases of rape, incest, and threat to the mother’s life was bipartisan. But the far right was troubled by all of the headway made by the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s in desegregating schools. Far-right evangelical leaders were opposed to desegregation and viewed abortion as an easy way to galvanize and unite Christians to vote far-right evangelical leaders into office. Defending the fetus was their political rallying cry, but defending racial segregation was the end goal.
Classism also plays a role in who is able to access abortion. Wealthy people will always be able to access abortion. They can fly themselves, their wives, mistresses, or children to a state or country where abortion is legal. Making abortion illegal creates barriers to abortion for the most financially vulnerable around us, who cannot afford to take off work for a day, much less fly to another state to access an abortion, and who are disproportionately people of color, particularly in the states most likely to outlaw abortion. These are the people who will be most likely to seek an illegal abortion in the event of an unwanted or dangerous pregnancy. They are the people who are most likely to die.
Do not let voting be the only measure you take. We are set to lose the protections of Roe under a Democratic-controlled House, Senate, and presidency. We must pressure our elected officials to codify Roe into federal law. We must protest, with our wallets and our voices. We must not be afraid to use the word abortion. We must drive home the reality that abortion is safe, normal, and a societal good. We must be outspoken, even if we cannot become pregnant ourselves. Remember, abortion is an issue of human rights, and safe abortions actually preserve life, rather than destroy it.
When I was a child, I had a fierce sense of justice. Now I am an adult, and that sense of justice has calcified into a deep anger at the injustices that marginalized people face in our supposedly free and equal country. When a document was leaked from the Supreme Court outlining their probable future decision to overturn Roe, many of my friends cried when they found out. I have not cried. I am furious. I need you, regardless of your age, gender, religion, or ability to bear children, to be furious with me, to inform yourself, and to take action, because outlawing abortion is an egregious violation of human liberties that will impact each and every one of us. Our right to privacy and equality is at stake, and we must fight.
Louise Page is an independent singer/songwriter based in Memphis. She is a classically trained pianist with a degree in Creative Writing from Rhodes College.
Greg Cravens