January 22 will mark the 43rd anniversary of what’s perhaps the single most important Supreme Court decision for women. For it was on January 22, 1973 that women were finally granted the right to determine their own reproductive lives in the decision Jane Roe, et al. v. Henry Wade, District Attorney of Dallas County. Seven men had decided that at least for the first trimester of a pregnancy, a woman’s body belonged to herself.
For 12 years we enjoyed unfettered access to abortion on demand. We no longer had to fly to a state where a compassionate doctor would certify that the pregnancy posed a danger to our mental health. No longer would we be forced to seek out help in dark alleys or rely on kitchen tables as operating arenas. It should be no surprise that with the ruling, women were finally free to compete with men for career advancement.
And then Ronald Reagan’s new appointees tipped the balance of the Supreme Court, creating one with an anti-woman, conservative agenda. Ever since, our right to control our own lives has hung on a precarious thread and once again faces a challenge that will be heard by a conservative Supreme Court with a clear bias.
It is time to fight back. Not with what Seattle-based activist and writer Amelia Bonow calls a plea for mercy, but with individual voices willing to #ShoutYourAbortion.
Those of us old enough to remember Women’s Liberation Movement consciousness-raising groups can identify with the #TogetherForAbortion meetings taking place this week. Women around the country—both in private and in public forums—are shouting their abortions in an effort to break the silence. To proudly, gratefully acknowledge the freedom of Roe v. Wade.
Here’s mine.
He was the lead singer and bass player in a popular Union Street band, appearing at a variety of the clubs. One night he rescued me from a random creep, and we became lovers and friends. Our relationship was casual and good, but not monogamous (it was the ‘70s). I was on the pill, but not always diligent about taking it. When I learned I was pregnant, I never considered making a life with him and raising a family. I had a career that I wanted to pursue. It had no place for a man whose living required late night gigs, and with whom I had little in common—certainly not enough to build a life on.
I went to a women’s health clinic instead of my own gynecologist because I wanted to pay cash. (Even though the procedure was legal by the mid ‘70s, it was still not one that I wanted my employer or his health insurer to know about.) Finding a clinic was easy. The entire abortion took little more time than a standard exam, and I experienced no pain at all. The staff was wonderful, the office and exam room clean and welcoming.
I wanted an abortion. I did not want a child. I had the choice and have always known that I made the right one for my life. I have never regretted it, not even after all of the years that have passed.
Those of us who were sexually active pre-Roe are well into our sixties by now. But we are the ones who remember the fear of the old days, and it is important that those of us who are now mothers and grandmothers break our silence and talk about the bad old days that were forever changed by Roe v. Wade. Don’t let the young women of the millennial generation fight alone to retain this all-important fundamental right.
As Amelia Bonow wrote earlier this month:
Those fighting to repeal Roe are either driven by religious dogma that deservingly lies at the margin of public opinion or worse, are motivated to create the kind of society that will begin to crumble if women can build their own lives with intentionality. Our opponents are dinosaurs, armed with fake science and propaganda that is both ludicrous and incendiary. This fight is ours to lose. The only reason they have been able to keep us on the ropes for so long is by making sure that women do not feel safe talking about abortion on their own terms. We cannot fight for legislative progress while ignoring the cultural toxicity of silence and shame.
#ShoutYourAbortion.