Strike Back

I remember distinctly the first time I started painting snakes on tumblers.

In the early summer of 2019, with an other newly appointed, conservative (quite arguably misogynistic) justice on the Supreme Court, conservative law makers across the country began their quiet attacks on women’s rights. Strategizing ways to restrict and choke off access to abortions and women’s clinics. It was yet an other personal attack in the Trump Era, a renewed stark reminder that this nation is built on a foundational lie: that it is a Democracy. A reminder that the rich white man still retains the power to make decisions they will never understand the magnitude of, nor experience the consequence of. Such a feeling takes a physical toll on the body. The overwhelm and fear that the actions taking place in Alabama will spread like a virus through the nation, from one red state the the next. The sorrow for women in need who are already feeling the impacts of manipulative policies. These feelings are often followed by rage and determination. I remember following the news podcast, I opened my social media, and was flooded with images and messaging about the current issue. Story image after story image. Artists, activists, mothers, teachers, women who recognized the impact of recent events, feminists who stood in solidarity, who stood up for one an other and themselves. And there it is, the most beautiful irony in our country’s history: that We the People, have grasped on to lie that our country is a Democracy with such conviction, that we force change. We do not hold equal power of voice or choice in this country, and it is against the raging current of patriarchal white supremacy, but still we progress.

I looked at my work table, with tumblers and mugs waiting to be painted with undecided images. I thought of the many hypocrisies of the conservative parties. The most glaring, the demand of “Don’t Tread on Me”. A cry against government overreach, while at the same time could feel a tight grip of old wrinkly male white hands around my own uterus. And the first and last small batch of snake tumblers came into the world.

A little over a year later, the snake design has made known its desire to come into the world again. While throwing tumblers, my mind flooded with feelings and memories of my own unplanned pregnancy. The words I desire to tell others. The story I hope to share in depth on day. The way that experience has forever changed how I see the world, and the women around me. I set aside 5 tumblers to be adorned with snakes. It seems like a small personal twist of destiny, that a morning spent preparing this post would be followed by an evening announcement of the death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

I was surprised at the magnitude of my reaction to the news. The tears that fell freely and abundantly, for a woman I had never met. I felt the loss of a protector. I felt the loss of a woman who truly, fully encapsulated how powerful women are, in a way that transcends the false narrative and limited boxes the patriarchy has designed and delivered to us from the time our small hands can clasp a barbie doll. She is an idol, and I refuse to mourn her death in despair of the future. She has now passed the torch to all of us. She has given her example and we must emulate it and keep moving against that current, standing up for what we believe in.

I believe in protecting a woman’s right to choose what she does with her body.

I am prochoice because I find it insulting that men in power assume a woman does not have the mental and emotional capacity to decide for herself what qualifies as terminating a life.

I am prochoice because only people who have not experienced the sensation of your past life crashing down around you, believe that abortion is an easy scapegoat from a consequence of “sinful” actions. These same people will never know the immensity of making this choice, because a woman would never share such a vulnerable and painful life experience with a cold critical heart.

I am prochoice because men get to walk away from this story, unscathed, without societal shame, when every single unwanted pregnancy is the result of a man’s thoughtless, reckless, and selfish ejaculation.

I am prochoice because while I carried to term and placed, I recognized the compilation of privileges that allowed such a path. I could defer my college scholarship, I could lean on parental financial support, an aunt and uncle graciously let me live with them during the months of my physical changes so I could be free from the glaring eyes and mormon gossip until I was sure-footed enough to face it. These are just some of many, and I am aware there are more that remain invisible to me. Who would I be, to force my decision onto someone with less?

I am prochoice, because I know a terror that kavanaugh, mcmonnell, and trump will never experience. (yep, the don’t deserve to be capitalized) I know the free fall of a point of no return. And I know that having all my choices, and that they were my own, gave me power again to regain control of my story.

I am prochoice, because I am tired of republicans touting their pro life opinions for meaningless virtue signaling. To be pro life is to care about the lives currently on earth who are suffering. They would care about poverty, and oppression, the refugees flooding into Greece, and the horrific violence against women and children at the boarder. If they really believed life began at conception, they would be more concerned about the left over IVF eggs that are not in a woman’s body.

I am prochoice because reproductive rights, including abortion, are basic women’s health care, which is a human right. Late term abortions are nearly exclusively a life-saving procedure for the pregnant woman due to a birth defect or complication in which the baby would not survive to thrive, and the woman’s life would be threatened if she carried to term. Women are worthy of this right to live.

I am prochoice because some of the most magnificent, compassionate, and loving women I have the honor of knowing have confided in me their abortions. I know the personal pain and grief some of them carry. The secret they must keep from loved ones who would not understand, and how it weighs on them. And I want to keep fighting for the day when these women can be celebrated for their bravery and compassion, rather than shamed because of lingering societal standards around an abstract concept that cannot be measured.

I am prochoice because I was raised Mormon. And from a young age I learned that free agency was the basis of The Plan of Salvation. Protecting a woman’s right to choose gives her the power to decide for herself what terminating a pregnancy means as it relates to her personal spiritual journey. If you believe abortion is murder, I support you not having one. I do not support any person, especially a man, forcing their religious or spiritual beliefs on the body of an other woman.

To every woman who has felt the fear, grief and indescribable loneliness of being alone and pregnant in a time of your life that cannot support an other person. I see you. If you parent alone, you are strong and valuable and worthy. If you carry to term and place, you are strong and valuable and worthy. If you abort, you are strong and valuable and worthy. I love you. I celebrate you and your beautiful strength and grace as you move through this trial, and I will forever stand and fight for your right to choose which trial is right for your heart.

Here is my torch. (One of them.) Carry it on and keep fighting. We will not let the passing of RBG set us back. May it motivate us to stand together and fight ever harder.