March for Women's Lives, 2004

 

This photo was taken 18 years ago during the March for Women's Lives that took place in Washington, D.C. on April 25, 2004. This picture hangs on my living room wall as a reminder of the event that I proudly took part in. I'm standing in the front, holding the "Keep Abortion Legal" NOW sign and sporting the proud smile of a person determined to keep women's healthcare decisions between her and her doctor, rather than throwing them into the hands of legislators who do not have women's best interests at heart.

I was a member of the National Organization for Women back then, and we teamed up with NARAL Pro-Choice NH leaders to secure a bus ride to D.C. together. As a group with varying ages and diverse social, economic, religious, political, and cultural backgrounds, we came together to form one group whose voice wanted (needed) to be heard. Women's reproductive choices were under attack -- as they still are today -- and we were determined to do something about it.

Once in Washington, the estimated one million marchers broke into smaller groups that bonded with each other and got to know each other a little better. My group consisted of a middle-aged to middle-aged-plus cast of women in varying degrees of physical health. One woman needed a cane to walk, one had an air cast on her leg from a recent knee surgery, and one couldn't march very fast due to arthritis, so we accommodated each other by walking at a slower pace. We stuck together and shared food and drinks, and when we stopped to pose for the above photo, a 20-something-year-old male thought we were a cool enough group of older ladies that he asked if he could be in our picture. That's him on the far right, wearing the white shirt and blue baseball cap. (My apologies that part of you got cut off in the photo, you awesome young man).

The March for Women's Lives in 2004 was the first time I ever came face-to-face with anti-choice groups who displayed magnified shock-value photos of fetuses, positioned themselves to obstruct our route as we tried to walk by them, and held bull horns a few feet from our ears to verbally assault us with derogatory names or boom rehearsed and memorized bible verses at us. Their anger was palpable but, luckily, none of us were physically harmed by any of them. Though, I did find it interesting that Fox News' Sean Hannity managed to portray pro-choice marchers as the angry ones on one of his post-March for Women's Lives broadcasts.

After the march, we settled on the lawn, sipping water and eating snacks while we watched and listened to the guest speakers deliver their thoughts and hopes for the future of women's healthcare and reproductive freedoms. That was the first time I ever saw Hillary Clinton in person. She mingled with the crowds and became an average woman, just like the rest of us. I also saw the Executive Director of the ACLU, Anthony Romero, NARAL Pro-Choice America President Kate Michelman, National Organization for Women President Kim Gandy, and various star-activists like Gloria Steinem, Whoopi Goldberg, Julianne Moore, Susan Sarandon, Ani DeFranco, Ashley Judd, and too many more to name.

The March is still a memorable event for me, and today's shocking Supreme Court decision serves to remind me that the struggle to free ourselves from the tight hold that legislators have on our bodies is far from over. 

Things Homeless People Have Taught Me

I often think about homeless people. I try to understand how they feel. And grasp how awful it must be to have no security, no locked door to keep them safe, and no soft bed to crawl into at night.

Homeless people regularly try to sleep during the day. Sometimes they lay right across the sidewalk or sleep upright, leaning against buildings or telephone poles. They do this because they feel safer closing their eyes in the light of day and in plain sight. Because in the dark of night is when they are most vulnerable … when they are more likely to have their meager belongings stolen. Or get assaulted or even killed.

Not being able to sleep soundly and securely must be draining. Do homeless people feel exhausted all the time?

When I was fresh out of nursing school nearly 30 years ago, I worked the inpatient medical unit of a community hospital just outside of Boston. 12-hour night shifts. And I used to get admissions in the middle of the night of homeless people (mostly men) with various non-life-threatening diagnoses. We called them social admissions which really just meant this person needed a hot shower, a clean bed, nutritious meals, and a soft pillow to rest his head on ... just for a day or two, before going back to the streets.

These men were admitted to the hospital thanks to the kind and caring hearts of the emergency room physicians who had the courageous goodwill to not discharge them to the cold New England streets too quickly. It was often in the middle of Nor’easter snowstorms that social admissions occurred.

In my eyes, homeless patients earned a reputation for being the patients who never rang their call lights and never asked for anything. They never complained, they were never rude, and they were always humble and quiet. They gratefully and graciously accepted whatever food and care and comfort that was offered to them. I would have let them stay in the hospital forever if it were up to me.  

Those homeless men I took care of so many years ago taught me a lot. They taught me that homeless people are people, just like us. They have amazing stories to tell, just like us. They have friends and loved ones, just like us. They want comfort and safety and stability, just like us. They try to make the best of their situations, just like us. And they want and deserve a little kindness and consideration, just like us.