There are those who believe that everything happens for a reason... as in, the universe works the way it's supposed to, this isn't some sort of pre-destination religious conversation. Sometimes really cool things happen, and you just know that they were meant to go that way. If the woman leaving the sew and vac shop had approached anyone else, it might have been completely different. But she approached me.
I was at a rally for Planned Parenthood at the health center right next to my house. The Senate is looking at the bill passed by the House last month that would effectively de-fund Planned Parenthood, even though federal funds are already barred from going to abortion services.
I was leaving. Many supporters had stayed behind to line the sidewalks, but I had a yoga class to get to. As I said a final buh-bye to several of the clinic workers that I know, I noticed a woman leaving the sew and vac shop, looking disapprovingly at the gathering of pink-shirted Planned Parenthood supporters. Our eyes met as I started walking in much the same plane towards my car. I gave her a smile, the way I do with strangers whose gazes I sometimes catch. I was going to leave it at that, but she approached me. "You're young," she started, then lightly touched my shoulder and glanced back at the big pink bus with "I STAND WITH PLANNED PARENTHOOD" written in big block letters. "Have you ever seen a live birth, hun?"
I was taken aback for a moment. This could have been anyone, and her obvious attempt at an anti-abortion one-liner could have been about anything. And yet she approached me. And her question was about birth. Specifically, have I ever seen one?
I smiled and looked into her eyes while I fumbled around in my purse. It could not have been more perfect... like it was meant to happen. "All the time," I said, smiling, and handed her my card. She raised her eyebrows in an inquisitive way, likely when she read "Birth Doula." It was obvious to me, probably to her as well, that I had at the very least made a tiny crack in her idea of what it means to be pro-choice.
Unfortunately, I did have a yoga class to get to, and to be quite honest I didn't have much else to say. So I said nothing else. I gave a slight nod, got into my car, and left. The woman remained in place, looking at the crowd of Planned Parenthood supporters gathered in the parking lot, and put my card into her wallet.
This is one of those moments that happened with Intention. She Intentionally approached me, she Intentionally asked about birth, and I Intentionally handed her my card that answered her question in ways that she hadn't expected.
I set certain rules for engaging with anti-abortion folks. If we're friends or colleagues, I don't ever mention it. If they're wingnuts, I don't befriend them at all, but if they're simply "pro-life" then we can probably get along in most social settings. I don't have "the argument," by which I mean, I refuse to risk burnout by debating when life begins and all that jazz with someone whose mind is not going to be changed. However, I hope this woman contacts me. My card contains phone and email information, and I hope she uses it.
Why? Because she seemed intrigued. Because, at least after her initial question, she wasn't trying to "convert" me to her ways of thinking. Because I feel like I could at least have a real conversation with this person, even if it doesn't change her opinions on abortion or pregnancy prevention.
Not because doulas are awesome (though we are, heh). But because people who believe in the right to reproductive autonomy are diverse. We're the exact kind of person you'd expect a pro-choice activist to be; at the same time, we are not at all the kind of person you would think would be pro-choice. We're young and old, we have kids and we don't, we're all kinds of professions and political identities, we're all gender identities and we fall in love with all kinds of people. We're cat lovers, we like hip hop and we like Kenny G. We're nurses and doctors and midwives. We're students and drop-outs. We're all races. We speak every language. We have all possible experiences with pregnancy and infertility. We've seen live birth or we haven't. We like sex or we don't. We drive pick-up trucks and ride bikes, we practice yoga and we attend church every single week. We like Jersey Shore and we hate it. We have PhDs. We're in the military or someone we love is. What unites us is the idea that women control their bodies. We're pro-choice.
If you're the person I gave my card to today in the Planned Parenthood parking lot, please email me. I want to talk more.
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