It's about Power

“So we’re doing some 4th of July crafts…”

Jay and his spouse, preparing to participate in a protest last week.

Friday morning, June 24th, my sister and her family – visiting from Pennsylvania that week – and I were just sitting down to breakfast when Kay’s text arrived.

“There goes Roe.”

Not a surprise but still, Oh no. I can’t guess how many people were angry that day, are still angry, but there were a few of us around that table.

I don’t want to talk about my own anger or about never having to decide whether to have an abortion. I don’t feel qualified to talk about the sexism that women face in the workforce. (My sister did some of that over our meal.) But I do know something about control. And while some people (most of them, white so-called Christians) say that the fall of Roe is pro-life, it’s really all about control. If it was about life, all children would have quality medical care and education. And, of course, we’d do something about the gun violence. But they don’t and we haven’t.

My mind keeps returning to a piece by church historian Diana Butler Bass describing the Southern Baptist Church’s only decades-old move to become a male-dominated denomination. (I can no longer access it because I’m not a paid subscriber and my emailed copy disappeared after thirty days in the Trash bin. Maybe you can, as a visitor.) As I recall, two white male Southern Baptist leaders put their minds together maybe fifty years ago and came up with a way to keep themselves and those like them in charge. What was surprising was that the women of the denomination – many of them in positions of power or authority – went along with it.

Why? How were they brought to understand that their subservience was more godly than their strength and leadership? I can only speak of my own experience, of surrendering power in a mistaken belief that it would foster unity and peace in my home. Hearing from fundamentalists in the extended family that it was God's way for women, I yielded my “self” to the greater good and to a future greater glory. (What a crock!)

I know better now. The world needs me – and you and her and him and them – to live as fully and completely as ourselves as we are able. The world needs the uniquenesses we each bring to the table. Maybe that’s naive (autistic people can be naive). Maybe it’s too close to saying God made me this way, which suggests that God made this other person poor (which I don’t believe). But I really, truly believe that we need to avoid surrendering our unique personhood to even the best causes. And I say it every chance I get in case someone else needs to hear it.

Which brings me back to Roe. A whole lot of people, most of them women, know themselves partly through the freedom that Roe once afforded them. They’re angry. They’re asking themselves, “Who am I if Roe isn’t law?” Some of them are whole enough, courageous, daring, and/or obstinate enough to stand up and say, “No!” And I’m proud that this afternoon right here in downtown Wausau I got to stand and march with almost a thousand of them.

Many of them carried signs, many didn’t. The signs all seemed to reference reproductive anatomy and choice, the Supreme Court, or pregnancy safety and health care. Those attending were mostly young adults but persons of all ages and genders were present. From care providers and survivors, we heard stories of rape and incest. One woman offered statistics about the horrific mortality rate for black women giving birth in the U.S., sharing the story of a healthy, active black woman who went in for a C-section and bled out before anyone at the hospital beyond her family took her reports of pain seriously. We were motivated to register to vote and, of course, to vote. And we were cautioned not to engage with the conservative Christians loudly praying the Hail Mary as we passed them to begin our 1-mile march across the river and back through the heart of a Sunday-afternoon-quiet Midwestern small town. A reporter and a camera person from a local television station were present. (I may have to look for their clip.)

As we marched, people took up call and response chants. Mostly “My body, my choice” but some others as well. Only as we turned the last corner did I hear, “It’s not about life… It’s about power.” Glad to hear it, I still pondered that the sentiment was mostly absent.

Don't get me wrong. Whatever motivates people to exercise their right to practice free speech in this moment is good. Reproductive health and healthcare are essential. What has happened is not okay. But, dare I say it, this is about so much more than access to safe abortions. 

The few have found a way to exert control over any group which lives counter to their beliefs. Especially with Justice Thomas’ concurring opinion, our lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer neighbors are more worried than they were last year – and many of them weren’t feeling safe then! Thomas wants to put contraception on the block. If his wife wasn’t white, he would probably want to end the right to marriage between “races” too. A year ago, I wouldn’t have thought it possible.

The United States is a scary place right now. Our conference’s Korean bishop says that callers from home regularly ask him, “Are you safe?”

After sending his placard pictures Monday afternoon, Jay texted:

“Headed to a protest tonight. I am going to write your number on my arm on the off chance I get arrested or something… I figure just having someone supportive on the outside to call would be ideal… Is that alright?”

“Yes, of course, it’s fine.”

At present, I’m not doing much for my siblings who are in pain because some religious zealots have too much power. But what I can do, I’m doing.

My son’s first initial is J. My daughter’s is K.
All photos used with permission.