In theory, being pro-life would be nice. The name in and of itself sounds like a melody. I mean, how could you be anything but pro-life? If you’re not pro-life, does that mean you’re pro-death?
No, not at all. I have learned, realized, and come to the conclusion that that is just not the case.
I remember being in 6th grade, sitting in art class at my super conservative elementary school. I was sitting at a large, rectangular table with my classmates, painting trees and talking serious politics as, you know, all 6th graders do…
The topic of abortion came up and everyone started playing the “what would you do?” game. Essentially the question went like this: If you were to find out you were pregnant tomorrow, would you have an abortion?
Every single person at that table said they would absolutely have the baby. And as a matter of fact, they added, they’d also raise the baby. It was only right.
I sat there painting my tree and I got a funny feeling in my stomach. It’s not that I thought they were lying to me, but rather, to themselves. It aggravated me how sure they were of their answers; how easy they thought it was. It’s so easy to be sitting in 6th grade art class and declare that you’d never have an abortion. That people who do are evil. That no matter what you’d have that baby. Right now you’re painting trees so it’s easy, but what if you were raped? Would it still be so easy?
The idea of terminating an unborn child actually makes me physically nauseous. And it’s something that I feel should absolutely never be considered after a certain period of time. I have a serious problem with ending the life of a developed baby. Trust me, I do.
But I also have a serious problem with hypocrites.
It’s just too easy. Right now I’m nowhere in that position, so it’s easy for me to say that of course I would never believe in abortion. Of course, I’d never do that. Of course, no one ever should.
But how can I say that? How can I ever know what it’s like to walk in those shoes? I can’t imagine it’s that easy.
From a young age, I’ve always been outspoken in my beliefs. And that day in 6th grade art class was no exception. As everyone sat there declaring with absolute certainty that they, under no circumstances, would ever have an abortion, I cleared my throat and said what I’m sure many were surely thinking, but none would say.
Immediately, the room fell silent.
“You…what?”
I cleared my throat.
“I said I don’t know what I’d do.”
As expected, I sat there for the remainder of the class being judged, attacked, and looked down upon.
“How could you possibly do such a thing?” they snapped at me.
“How could you possibly know?” I calmly asked back, my voice shaking only a little.