Abortion rights in Spain and Ireland: a continuous struggle

This article was originally published in RAG#6 by Leticia. 




Unlike most of my Irish feminist friends, pro-choice politics were never an important issue I felt women struggled with. don’t get me wrong, I was openly pro choice in the sense I always believed women should not be forced to have an unwanted pregnancy and that they should not have to travel or pay for an abortion, but I always felt it was an issue dealt with in the past, so it didn’t worry me. When I
started to have sex , in the late 90s, I knew abortion was accessible for me in Spain and I never had to worry about facing an unwanted child in my life.

Since I was a kid I always knew I was an “accident”. My mother was 15 years old when she got pregnant. I always remember her telling people how shocking and terrible it was for her to realise she was pregnant just after the firsttime she ever had sex and how she tried to take aspirins to provoke a miscarriage. Then she would add, “Do not ever have kids, it is stupid. I love you and your sisters so much but if I could go back, I would ́t have any children”. My mum and I always had a very close, loving and affectionate relationship but it never occurred to me to ask why she did not have an abortion in the first place.

My mother got pregnant in 1981, only 6 years after the death of Franco. Before that, Spain lived under a strict Catholic conservative fascist dictatorship for 40 years. In 1982, the year I was born, the Partido Socialista Obrero Espa簽ol (PSOE) came into power and 3 years later abortion was legislated.

I heard stories of people who had traveled in the 1970s to London to have an abortion. I always assumed those women were very rich and came from an upper class background who could afford a trip to London, so those stories didn’t interest me.

While I was in Spain I had my first abortion. I usually don’t talk about it because I find it insignificant in my life. I remember it as simple as finding out I was pregnant. Yes,it was dramatic, but I was a Spanish teenager so my life was a drama anyway. My mum booked an appointment, we went to the clinic and were back home after 2 hours. It was easier than having the flu for me. Sometimes I forget I had it. Everyone around me was very supportive. It felt natural in all senses: my family, friends, medical staff, my mum ́s friends. It was a simple procedure that it didn’t affect my life.

It was not until I moved to Ireland that I learned about pro-choice politics. I learn about the hypocrisy of this country pretending Ireland is a place without need for abortion, when in reality women had to travel abroad, lonely and scared and stay in an unfamiliar place. I learned about the stigma those women had to face and how taboo abortion is in Ireland. I learned about the 8th amendment, Youth
Defence, “the unborn child”, the X case, 12 women traveling every day. Those things made me angry, and I was shocked how I never linked something as basic as women’s bodily autonomy with feminism. I remember talking to Spanish friends about stories related to abortion in Ireland and they were all horrified and shocked about the situation in this country. We were not aware then how quickly things can change and that we can never take things for granted.

In Summer 2012, Youth Defence created a huge campaign all around the country. A lot of us were very furious and got together to try to organise and do something about it. During this new surge in the pro-choice movement, I became pregnant. I became pregnant and I wanted to have an abortion. I became pregnant and everything around me was related to abortion. It was very hard for me to not tell
everyone about what I was going trough. I think I shared too much with people I didn’t know that well. I was shocked, yes, but I also was surrounded by amazing women who understood perfectly for what I was going trough. Still, it was hard. I was too broke to go to Spain or to the U.K. I was already in too much debt to ask a friend for a loan. I was lucky to be involved in pro-choice activism to know
about Women on Web, so I ordered the abortion pills from the Internet through my friend from Belfast. I had an abortion the day after the March for Choice 2012. I did it at home, scared, in pain and feeling very lost and confused about what was happening. I wouldn’t recommend it to a serious hypochondriac like me.

Weeks after, I traveled to the London Anarchist Bookfair to work at the Workers Solidarity Movement stall. There were two ladies sitting in the stall next to me. Eventually I started to chat with one of them. Her name was Anne Rossister and she mentioned she was involved with the Irish Abortion Support Network. The first thing I told her was that I recently had an abortion. She took my hand, looked at me and told me: “Why did you not contact me? You could had stayed at my house and we could have gone trough this together. I would have paid for you. We always find a way to raise money”. I started crying and I realized then that I was chatting with an absolute living hero. She gave me her book, Ireland’s Hidden Diaspora, and we spent all day chatting away.
This was the first time I heard about the the Spanish Women’s Abortion Support Group (SWAS), the sister organization of Irish Women’sAbortion Support Group (IWASG). IWASG and SWASG started in the 1980s, where a brave group of women came together in sisterhood to offer any kind of help and finding their own ways. Those women, during more than 20 years, provided accommodation, information, money, and
transport to women arriving in the capital for abortions in a voluntary basis and with no funding.
Blanca Fernandez, who was involved in 1987, defines those networks as the main idea of grassroots politics. They would help with anything: taking women to the clinic, making posters and banners , meetings and conferences and fundraisers . They would offer their own homes and it was a moving sense of solidarity among each other.

For Spanish women traveling to London was really hard. Unlike the Irish women, most of them did not speak English so they couldn ́t understand the medical staff . The Spanish Abortion Support network helped to translate and explain the procedures in Spanish. But lack of English language was not the only barrier. Isabel Ros mentioned in Anne’s book how she often had to ask women to speak
up on the phone, but they wouldn’t. They were whispering because they were terrified of being overheard.
Spain’s conservative right wing party, Partido Popular, is taking the opportunity of being in power at a time of economic and financial crisis to suppress women’s reproductive rights, putting the clock back nearly 30 years, to when abortion was first decriminalised. It was very restrictive compared to many other European countries at the time, but a major breakthrough for women in Spain.

Since 1985, (my mum could not choose to have and abortion 4 years before, in 1981) abortion was legal under 3 major conditions: to preserve the physical and mental health of the mother; if the pregnancy was a result of rape or incest, or if the foetus was likely to suffer mental or physical abnormalities at birth.
Since 2010, abortion was mainly on demand, safe, and free. However, this government wants to reform the abortion law and is using Ireland as a model to follow their plans. If the government gets its way, Spain will join Ireland to become the only two major European countries that prohibit abortion where the foetus is malformed.

Our situation in both Spain and Ireland is depressing. The more that abortion is restricted, the more desperate women will seek unsafe, backstreet abortions, putting themselves at great risk, especially in this big economic crisis that affects the most disadvantaged women who cannot afford to travel, or migrants who are not allowed to leave their country of residence. But the work that those amazing
women did is too solid and impossible to break. Those women were sick of being scared. Those women are an inspiration for the new generation of pro-choice activists who are not afraid.

Both in Ireland and Spain, pro-choice activism is as big as ever . We do not want anybody to have to whisper on the phone to have an abortion in another country. We want to have all the choices available in our countries. I wish we could build this sisterhood between Irish and Spanish women again . Women still need our support, and together we can send a powerful message. I will never forget those
women, the ones who, like my mother, had to face an unwanted pregnancy because they couldn’t afford to travel– the ones who travelled and the ones who helped them.
They were all so brave. Cowards do not make history.





Since this article, the Spanish Government passed  the abortion ban legislation. 
In opposition to this, many protest again this decision are ongoing in Spain and other European countries.
In Ireland, the Abortion Rights Campaign are organizing a protest outside the Spanish Embassy this Saturday 8th February at 2p.m. More details here: https://www.facebook.com/events/203800399815153/?ref=br_tf
There is also a banner making event the day before at Jaja  Studios in Stoneybatter from 6pm.
More info contact the Abortion Rights Campaigns http://www.abortionrightscampaign.ie/

Breaking Ground: The Story of the London Irish Women's Centre

If you're in the Dublin area tomorrow, 10 November at 1pm, check out this film at the IFI in Temple Bar:

Breaking Ground: The Story of the London Irish Women's Centre tells the story of the rise and fall of the London Irish Women's Centre from 1983 to 2012. Through vibrant archive material and interviews with 18 women, the film charts the centre’s social and political campaigning on behalf of Irish women, many of whom were in London in search of an alternative life away from the repressive, predominately Catholic culture of Ireland. The film will be followed by a Q&A with the London-based director Michelle Deignan.

The Rag, Issue #6 is finished! And the London Anarchist Bookfair!

Dear RAG followers,
We are overjoyed to announce that after three long years, the newest edition of The Rag is complete! It was touch and go, and there were a few late nights put in, but everyone rallied together and Rag #6 was born! There are so many great articles in this issue, it would be difficult to only name a few. If you're in London, you can find it for sale in The Feminist Library and Housman's Bookshop. If you're in Ireland, we will be distributing the magazine after our launch, which we are planning in a few weeks time (more on that later!).

RAG members Leticia and Angela (the person writing this blog entry) headed over to London from Dublin on the "Sail and Rail," a journey enjoyable to some but grueling to others, especially when weighed down with piles of heavy magazines! 

But the trip was worth it on Saturday, when folks began to approach our stall to get their hands on the newest edition of The Rag. It was so wonderful to not have to disappoint people looking for the next issue, and to say, "Here it is! The issue you've been waiting for!" And to show that interest in anarcha-feminism is far from waning, we sold a few hefty stacks of back issues as well. 

AK press kindly asked RAG to participate in their anarcha-feminist panel discussion: Unreasonable Demands. The description read, "Gender hierarchy is entrenched in our society – and, unfortunately, is frequently reproduced within anarchist movements, even as we oppose other kinds of hierarchies. Meanwhile, as 'mainstream' feminism becomes increasingly accepted and co-opted by liberals and neoliberal bootstrappers alike, anarchist feminists often find ourselves sidelined." Also on the panel was Zoe Stavri, author of the Another Angry Woman blog. Though I was there on behalf of RAG, I actually spoke about the Abortion Rights Campaign, which I've been heavily involved in, and the challenges faced in creating the campaign goals and strategy. I talked about how the Abortion Rights Campaign settled on "Free, Safe, & Legal" as their ultimate goal, although it's considered an "unreasonable demand," even amongst pro-choice advocates. 

The packed room listened with great attention, and several people asked questions about the campaign and the history around how Ireland became an "abortion-free" country. Overall, people were curious about the specific strategies needed to make abortion available in Ireland beyond the very restrictive and punitive new legislation. I explained that abortion cannot be legal without appealing the 8th amendment. And to do that, we need a referendum. I was very surprised that many people in the audience did not know what the 8th amendment to the Irish Constitution was, though, admittedly I shouldn't have been, as many people living in Ireland don't know either. 

Anarchism is obviously about smashing the state, so I think some people were frustrated in the fact that we are working within the existing political structures. One woman even suggested we get to the streets with our guns! But that wouldn't change the fact that we still need a referendum. We need to repeal the 8th amendment while we're waiting for the Revolution!

People also wanted to know about existing networks in Ireland that support women going through crisis pregnancies, both during and after their terminations. I mentioned the UK organisation Abortion Support Network (ASN), which helps find accommodation and funding for women in Ireland traveling to the UK for abortions. However, as for Irish support, I was at a loss. This question would come up again later in another panel discussion, and it begs discussion.

Another question which has haunted me ever since came from a person wanting to know what people in the UK can do to support us in Ireland in our campaign for free, safe, and legal abortion. I responded that they could spread the word and help us educate people in the situation in Ireland, support ASN of course, and I should have probably stressed more that people can also donate to and follow the Abortion Rights Campaign on facebook, Twitter, and by signing up to receive their electronic newsletter. But I return to this question because there must be more that our throngs of supporters all around the world can do. Hopefully the campaign can have a think about it and come up with a more comprehensive list of actions.

The bulk of the discussion, however definitely went to Zoe, who spoke compellingly about how we should "kill all men." I couldn't possibly sum it up, but let's just say it was entertaining, and many of the attendees described it as "refreshing." 

Many thanks go to RAG friend Criostoir, who manned the stall for us when both Leticia and I were participating in the Bookfair. And to Andrew, Aileen, and Farah from the WSM who arranged for us to share their table.

The second panel I took part in was organised by the WSM, was "about the hidden, yet central role of anarchists in the pro-choice campaign" and "the importance of international solidarity with the abortion rights struggle." To that end, I described the non-hierarchical structure created by the Abortion Rights Campaign and the five working groups, as well as how decisions and strategy are made. Farah spoke about the article she wrote for the most recent Irish Anarchist Review about intersectionality in the pro-choice movement, which led to an interesting discussion. 

We left the Bookfair empty handed, having unloaded all of our Rag #6 issues that we lugged over! Hooray! Thanks to everyone who chatted with us, bought magazines, asked questions at the panels, and who were generally awesome. And thanks to the organisers, who made sure everything ran smoothly.

STAY TUNED FOR MORE DETAILS ABOUT THE DUBLIN RAG LAUNCH PARTY! It will definitely be a fun time. WOO HOO! PARTY!

Documentary filmmaker seeks Irish women with crisis pregnancies

Inbar Livne, student and documentary filmmaker from London, is putting together a documentary based on testimonies from women who have dealt with or are currently dealing with crisis pregnancies. The film will convey their stories from a non-judgmental perspective and will support women, no matter what their decision. She hopes the film will be a resource for other women who have an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy, or a pregnancy that becomes a crisis for whatever reason. 

She is looking for women who would be interested in sharing their story to help raise awareness and break the stigma around this issue. 

If you want to hear more about the project or see stories of other women from Ireland and NI who have already shared their experience, please contact her on inbar@livne.net 

 Your identity will remain confidential if you wish.

For more information about the project, click here, here, and here.

What is Anarcha-Feminism to RAG?

RAG is very pleased to be participating in this year's Dublin Anarchist Bookfair on Saturday, the 6th of April in Liberty Hall. (Programme details can be found by clicking on the link). We'll be there with back issues of the Rag, our distro of magazines and books from around the world, and other exciting goodies. Please visit our table and say hello! 

Leading up to the bookfair, we thought we would share an essay by RAG that was recently published in the new expanded edition of Quiet Rumours, an Anarcha-Feminist Reader by Dark Star Collective (published by AK Press). You may have often wondered, "What is Anarcha-Feminism?" and we hope this short essay will give you an idea.

Why Anarcha-feminism?

RAG is a group of anarcha-feminist women in Dublin, Ireland. We are all feminists, united in our recognition that women's subordination exists. Our struggle needs to be fought alongside the struggle against other forms of oppression, not treated as an afterthought or as a distraction. We are all anarchists, united in our belief for the need to create alternatives to this capitalist, patriarchal society wherein all are dominated and exploited. RAG meets weekly as a group to discuss topics which are important to us. We have produced five issues of a magazine, The Rag, and we hold occasional open meetings. The article below was written from notes on an open discussion we held called “Why Anarcha-feminism?” It touches briefly upon a lot of topics in a short article, so to read a more in-depth analysis of the issues raised please refer to the Rag magazine.

What is Anarchism?

Sometimes defined as libertarian socialism, the ultimate aim of anarchism is total democracy – for each person to have a direct say in issues that affect their lives, not rely on government to represent them. This requires the destruction of state, hierarchy and class society, and the construction of non-hierarchical bottom-up systems of organisations such as local councils and unions to replace these. There is the need for strong grassroots action and organisation in to prepare for radical change. As many people as possible need to be personally invested in organising to take control of our own resources and interests and to defend our right to do so.

Class and Feminism

Anarcha-feminists have tried to develop an understanding of class, race, ability and LGBTQ issues, paying attention to the fact that all women do not have the same experiences in their oppression as women. We try to be aware of privilege and to make ourselves aware of and learn from women’s struggles globally.

From an anarchist perspective, some anarchists see feminism as a divisive issue, distracting from the 'real' issue of class struggle. Thanks to anarcha-feminism, the anarchist approach increasingly accepts that sexism does exist, and is not just a minor side issue which will fade away with the end of capitalism. When anarchists constantly stress that all experience of patriarchy is linked to class, they can gloss over another truth: the experience of class is differentiated by gender.

In traditional anarchist dialogue the site for revolution has been the workplace; from a feminist perspective the family and the body are additional sites of conflict. This is our literal “means of production” which we should be determined to seize.

Anarcha-feminist Identity

Anarcha-feminists often find it easier to publicly label themselves as feminist than as anarchist. This is because many people who have not considered either concept are more willing to accept the premise that women and men should have equality than to question the core of the current economic and political systems. Many people who profess to believe in equality have not even considered life without capitalism, or that economic systems affect equality. Anarchism also suffers from negative connotations, for example the misassociation with chaos and violence. Ironically, some anarchists are unwilling to identify as feminist due to the negative connotations associated with the feminist label. The capitalist system is very effective in muddying the meaning of concepts which pose a clear threat to that system. It is important to us to be clear that we are feminists and anarchists, and that we see this as a pathway to freedom.

Equality not Sameness

We believe that true equality can never be achieved within any capitalist system. Capitalism will only concede enough to give a convincing illusion of equality. The ideals that early feminists courageously fought for have now been entirely diluted and sold back to us as pink and sterile girl power. We can be whatever we want to be as long as it’s sexy - politician, athlete, scientist or ‘housewife’. We need to be clear that when feminist gains are won, it is in the name of true equality for all people, not as a concession or privilege. Real feminism requires complete social restructuring which can essentially be equated with true anarchism.

One of the misconceptions of the feminist movement has been that for women to be equal to men, we have to be the same. Women joined the rush into the modern workplace to have equal access to exploitation. Many women find they experience a double shift of work – both outside and inside the home. Capitalism has made effective use of patriarchy and in many ways is reliant on it – for example on the nuclear family as the unit of effective consumption and control. The work that women do in producing and caring for children, in keeping the home and in caring for the sick and the old is not valued under capitalism. The value system of capitalism is profit-driven; only that which produces profit is seen as productive.

Queer Feminism

There are overlaps between feminism and queer theory (queerness might be roughly defined as gender or sexuality non-conformism). Anarcha-feminism recognises the fluidity of gender and its construction from birth as a way of acting/talking/thinking. While recognising gender binaries as socially constructed, anarcha-feminism sees that society divides people into ‘male’ and ‘female’, oppressing women and those that don’t fit into strict gender roles.

Although there is some acceptance by wealthy capitalist countries of difference with regard to gender and sexuality, ultimately it is acceptable only as a lifestyle choice, not as a revolutionary force, which it should ultimately be. The destruction of the systems of capitalism, state and patriarchy would lead to an explosion in different ways of being – sexualities, gender identities, family, structures etc.

Patriarchy and Men

The fight for women’s equality has been framed as a “battle of the sexes”. However, feminism has led to a growing consciousness of male oppression under patriarchy, such as strict adherence to masculine gender roles, duty to “provide” in the realm of work and lack of equal rights to active parenthood. Male oppression has been misconstrued as either a product of the feminist movement, or an oversight of it. Yet it is often through feminist dialogue that a space has opened up for discussing these aspects of men’s lives and experiences. Pro-feminist solidarity between men and women can make meaningful inroads into these issues.

Meaningful reform

Many very real changes have been made in women’s lives due to feminist efforts. These include suffrage, the right to work outside the home, equal pay legislation, anti-domestic violence legislation etc. Unlike anarchism, feminist ideology can and has been accepted into capitalist reform. Yet it is socialists and anarchists who have mainly been behind meaningful reform – through the trade union movements, anti-racism work, community work and women’s liberation movements. Unfortunately, many of the ultimate aims of those who struggled to create these reforms have now been lost. Their achievements have been co-opted into seeming like the achievements of “democracy” when in fact they were concessions hard won by activists condemned as radicals of their time.

While continuing to fight for meaningful reform (for example, abortion rights and free childcare), we also want to remain completely clear about what we are fighting for: not just women’s equality, but absolute equality. The ultimate endpoint of feminism is anarchism.  

RAG is always looking for new members, so if you'd like to get involved, please drop us a line either on our Facebook page, or by emailing RAGDublin@gmail.com.

Clinic Violence, A Personal Account

The following is an article from the Rag issue #4, which was published three years ago in October 2009. It's a personal account of working in an abortion clinic, and its dangers. While we launch campaigns to achieve the right to choose abortion in Ireland, it should always be in the back of our mind that this will never be a cause completely won, because threats (legislative, violent, societal) will always remain.

It seemed like any other Friday morning at work on 30 December 1994. The cold New England winter was in full effect as I scurried into the warmth of the abortion clinic, where I worked as a receptionist and telephone counsellor. I greeted Stan, the armed security guard at the door, and clocked in. Stan was a somewhat eccentric guy who had been in the US Army for many years. He had the affect of someone who had been in combat and never quite got over it, but would never admit it. His modus operandi seemed to be “tough guy with a soft side,” but on duty he was all tough guy. I was on phones that day, which I was thankful for because it was a busy Friday, and I didn’t feel like dealing with all the patients in the waiting room downstairs. So I sat down, coffee in hand, shut the answering machine off, and started to answer the ringing phones.

When I told my parents I would be working at an abortion clinic on Beacon Street in Brookline, Massachusetts, my mother said, “I don’t suppose I can talk you out of that, can I?” She knew the answer. I had been adamantly pro-choice for years, and despite the dangers of working in a clinic, I jumped at the chance. Massachusetts had a “buffer zone” law designed to protect patients and staff that prevented protesters from picketing closer than 18 feet from the building. Sadly, this was mostly not enforced, and clinics didn’t have a method of screening who got into the building. Anyone could simply walk right in. 

Later in the morning, I received a phone call from Stan’s wife, wanting to know if he was OK. “Um..I think so?” I answered tentatively. Why would he not be? I peeked downstairs and saw him standing, like always, at his post. After she called, a couple of other people called, friends and family of some of the medical staff, wanting to know if they were OK too. I told them that everything was just fine here. But by then I was really starting to wonder what was going on.

That’s when my boyfriend called. “Thank God,” he said, when I answered the phone, “I nearly had a heart attack. Is everything OK?” He had been driving to work, listening to the radio, when a breaking news bulletin came on the air to say that two clinics on Beacon Street in Brookline had been attacked by a gunman. Several people, including each of their receptionists, had been shot.  He heard the report on the radio and thought I might be dead. He nearly crashed the car pulling over to call me from a payphone. I insisted that I was fine, although inside I had started to panic a little.

It seemed as though the moment I knew why everyone was calling the clinic, the phone lines truly started to light up. Bits of information poured in about the clinic shootings. But one thing was on my mind and the minds of everyone I worked with: Lee Ann. 

Lee Ann Nichols, our former co-worker, the woman who trained me to do my job, and though it sounds trite to say so, one of the most unique and fantastic people I’d ever met, had just left us to work at a neighbouring clinic only three months prior. So quiet and sweet, you would never expect her to be wry and hilarious at the same time. And I remember the day she told me she was 38. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She looked all of 24. We were sorry to see her go because she felt like the light of our office. But frustration at our overbearing boss forced her to find work elsewhere. She had been hired as a receptionist at Preterm, a clinic only a few blocks away. It had just been attacked. We hoped and prayed that she had had the morning off. I wish I could say that she did. But word quickly spread that Lee Ann had been shot. The gunman had walked into each of the clinics, verified with each receptionist that he was in the right place, and then pulled his rifle out of a gym bag and started shooting, starting with her. People ran for cover and out any door they could. Then he walked out. Neither of the clinics had armed security, so no one could stop him.

The two clinics that were hit each sat a few blocks on either side of the clinic where I worked. We wondered why he skipped over us. The only thing we could figure was that our armed guard, surveillance cameras, and the awkward layout of our clinic deterred him from hitting us. You had to walk through two heavy glass doors and down the stairs to get to reception. He could have gotten in, but he never would have gotten out alive. Supposedly, our security cameras showed him walking around the building several days before the attack. But knowing that he literally hit one clinic, drove by ours, and then hit the other was truly sickening.

We managed to finish out the workday in tears of sadness and fear. It may seem incredible that we saw all of our patients that day, and the only explanation I can come up with is that this clinic was a for-profit business. Lost patients meant lost revenue. But this for-profit status was also the reason why we had an armed guard, while the other two clinics, both non-profits, did not. My co-workers and I didn’t put up a fuss about continuing to work, but the perpetrator still had not been caught, and we felt like sitting ducks, as if a bomb could go off any second.

When my shift was done, I went home and turned on the news. One man, who had been sitting in one of the waiting rooms talked about what happened. He said that as he sat in the waiting room, he was thinking to himself about the receptionists’ voice, and how it was the most soothing, beautiful voice he’d ever heard. I started to cry because I knew he was speaking of Lee Ann. Her voice was pure music, and I’d remarked on it myself. But the man on TV continued to say that his reverie was broken by the gunman coming in and shouting at her “This is what you get! You should pray the rosary!” while he shot ten bullets into the woman the stunned witness had only, seconds before, been lulled by. “How could anyone shoot this innocent woman?” he asked. Lee Ann and Shannon Lowney, Planned Parenthood’s receptionist, were pronounced dead. I turned off the television. 

My boyfriend came home early from work with instructions and cash from his boss who commanded him to take me out for dinner. We went to our favourite Thai place. But everyone at all the tables around us were talking loudly about the clinic shootings. I wanted to stand up and scream at everyone that they didn’t know the half of how horrible it was. It wasn’t just a news story! People, really lovely people with lilting voices and hilarious senses of humour, who were loved and cared for by friends and family were dead. And here we all were having dinner talking about it like it was a soundbite. But of course I didn’t. Instead we took home what was left of our food.

The next day, the front page of The Boston Herald featured a huge photo of Lee Ann being wheeled out to an ambulance, smeared all over in blood. She had no shirt on, a cloth haphazardly thrown on top of her, but you could clearly see the side of her breast. It was a disgusting last image of a friend, put there to sensationalise and sell papers.

A candlelight vigil was held in front of the statehouse as a reaction to the shootings. I went with a friend and co-worker. As we held little candles in our cold, chapped hands, we felt completely alienated by the chants and speeches given that night. Lee Ann Nichols and Shannon Lowney had become martyrs for the Pro-Choice cause. The occasion was not to remember who these two women were, but to declare what they would now represent. My companion and I couldn’t see beyond our grief to grapple with the big picture just then.

On Sunday, I had to work again --my regular Sunday shift. I usually enjoyed Sundays because I was the only one in the building, so I had free reign to do whatever I wanted. Sometimes I even brought my guitar. But when I showed up less than 48 hours after the shootings, I found a cop car stationed out front guarding the building. The city provided this round-the-clock security to all of the clinics in case the suspect or anyone else wanted to have another go. At first, I thought I’d be brave and go in alone, disabling the security system in the dark interior of the clinic. But once I was inside, I went back out again and asked one of the policemen to come in with me and have a look around. I thanked the policeman, and he went back to drinking coffee in his car while I turned the answering machine off and started my work. It was New Year’s Day.

The news that John Salvi, the killer, had been caught in Norfolk, Virginia, shooting at a clinic there from outside, wouldn’t be out until that day’s paper. (Luckily no one was injured.) He  pled insanity, saying he was schizophrenic, but was convicted of murder on March 19, 1996. Ironically, that same day, the Supreme Court agreed to review the constitutionality of abortion clinic “buffer zones.” Salvi was found dead eight months later in his prison cell. When I saw his photo on the front page of the newspaper with the headline, I felt numb with hatred and anger: he’d never get to be punished for what he did. And since he died before his appeal could be processed, a judge overturned his conviction, essentially exonerating him after death. That’s justice for you, I guess.

And clinic violence rages on. In May of this year, Dr. George Tiller, an abortion provider, was shot dead in his own church after repeated threats had been made to his life. In today’s world of anti-terrorism campaigns, I wonder if those committing abortion clinic violence will ever be seen as the true terrorists that they are. Sadly, I’m not holding my breath.

Since Roe vs. Wade made abortions legal in the US in 1973, protests against clinics have become progressively more violent. Arson, gun fire, bombings, and chemical warfare are just some of the more alarming tactics. However, anti-choice protesters also use cameras to intimidate clinic patients, regularly blockade entrances, try to stop patients and their escorts from getting out of their cars and stand outside of clinics with posters featuring mutilated babies. Their terrifying tactics are designed to instill fear in both the providers of abortion and anyone seeking their services.

The fight for choice doesn't end with making abortion legal. The battle against anti-choice terrorism is a fight for all time. Since 1993, their violent, murderous tactics have failed to get the media coverage and outrage they deserve. The list of extremely violent acts, compiled by the National Abortion Federation is truly impressive, and not in a good way. 

In the US, while law-abiding anarchists as well as activists taking part in direct actions to protect animals and the environment are being jailed without due process and convicted as terrorists, abortion clinic violence is not considered a terrorist act under the law, despite the fact that clinic staff are confronted with threats of violence every single day. Letters claiming to contain anthrax. Acid attacks. Arson. Stabbings. Shootings. Bombings. These are real threats, real dangers that people must face when going to work each day, not to mention the patients. 

It's pretty grim, to be honest. But that's why we must persevere. It's why it's our job to educate people on why abortion safety is important, why it's essential to de-stigmatise abortion, why it's ok to admit that we're afraid, but why we must soldier on with making our pro-choice voices heard, even after we win the right to choose.

For an idea of the frustrations, fears, and dangers faced by patients and pro-choice volunteer escorts (and to learn more about escorting) at an abortion clinic in Kentucky, USA, check out the blog "Every Saturday Morning" at http://everysaturdaymorning.wordpress.com

Weekend of CHOICE

RAG members are involved in organising two pro-choice events this weekend, come along. They're both going to be class.

FRIDAY, 7.30pm - Screen for Choice, Filmbase, Dublin

You are cordially invited to
Screen for Choice

A programme of selected short films and works on Choice
supporting March for Choice in Ireland, Dublin 2pm 29.09.12
including the Irish Premiere of 'X is for Anonymous'
followed by a discussion with filmmakers and participants
facilitated by Katie Gillum, Disposable Film Festival

7.30pm Friday 28th Sept
Decriminalisation of Abortion Global Action Day 2012
at Filmbase, Curved Street, Templebar, Dublin 2


All Welcome. Suggested Donation €5/€3

https://www.facebook.com/events/197669753700217/
www.filmbase.ie

 

SATURDAY, 2pm - March for Choice, meet at the Spire, Dublin