Ever been grudgingly told your work is "better than the alternative"? (You might be an abortioneer if...)

So here's another twist on "coming out" to someone as an abortioneer. I have an old school friend, you know the type: we really don't have much in common these days but when we go home for the holidays we give each other a call. I was just remembering the time I told her about my new job after college...

I told my friend I was doing [vaguely hard-to-explain job] at a non-profit reproductive health clinic. In response she asked if they did abortions there, and was our mutual, very-Catholic friend going to have to put me on her "prayer list" -- jokey jokey, of course, except not really I guess.

When I told her yes, she replied, "Well, but you just work in the office, you're not doing the abortions" -- with an unspoken implication of "...so I guess you're not doing evil," as though the reason I could be at peace with myself is that I wasn't the person holding the cannula or flipping the aspirator switch or what have you, and so I somehow was not implicated in the whole abortion thing.

I suppose I could have just agreed with her and dropped the subject, but that would've made no sense whatsoever. Like, her claim-and-implication were the opposite of fact on both counts. Because in my eyes, even back then when I had not been a clinical assistant, I was implicated in the whole abortion thing, and that felt like doing good. Like, I would never take a job as office staff for (say) Operation Rescue, and if I did I would never rationalize to myself that I wasn't contributing to the mission of the organization.

So I said something in that vein to my friend. "Well, actually I DO feel like I'm helping women who are seeking abortion care obtain abortion care, and I think it's really worthwhile." Then she changed tack and said, "Well, we know that people will try to get abortions whether they're legal or not, so this is better than the alternative." Which is true, of course, but. Like, if outlawing them DID prevent people from trying to obtain them, she'd have no problem with a ban? That's a damn shame.

I know, I should be grateful for small mercies. For example, as it is, many people are not even swayed by stories of women being taken to emergency rooms with their intestines spilling out of their vaginas, and so forth -- so I should be glad she does take that seriously. And I am.

But here's why it's a shame: To many people, it's not enough for women to simply have their lives changed or ruined in less physically gory ways, such as "I had to drop out of high school" or "I couldn't travel the world" or "My partner skipped out on me." All these life-changes that people don't think are bad-enough results of unwanted pregnancy, they're all things that are often called "selfish" reasons for wanting abortion. Oh yes. Women are called selfish all the damn time. Like as soon as you have baby-incubating capacity all your needs and desires and passions properly become baby-focused and anything less would be thinking too much of yourself! Selfish!

So all those things are selfish reasons for deciding to end a pregnancy, but if you, like, DIE, or have your organs fall out of you, then that is more like what we could consider acceptable needs in a person of babymaking capability. Sure, I'm glad that among people who feel uncomfortable about abortion, there are some who at least recognize how terrible a ban on it would be for half the population's physical safety; but I'm simultaneously dismayed to think that, if only they could "safely" ban abortion, such people would be fine with all the other kinds of damage caused to our wellbeing and freedom.

Making a statement

Sometimes, I consider whether I would love my job as much as I do if it weren't so controversial, if the mere act of going in to work weren't so badass, if the answer to "What do you do?" weren't guaranteed to make a statement. I can't pretend that loving my job isn't partially a political act. I adore advocating for women, fighting the evil forces of the anti-choicers, and the way I feel when a client expresses her appreciation, and those things wouldn't affect me quite the same way if not for how (inexplicably) volatile choice is.

Don't get it twisted; I'm not in any way thanking the antis for making me excited to go to work. Well, unless that angers them...in that case, I will admit that on a day when I didn't sleep enough and I'm walking through puddles and my hair is looking weird, seeing the protesters outside my clinic inspires me to work harder and longer and better.

But that's the dramatic side, the one that gives me activist cred at fundraisers and boosts my ego. The quieter side is the one that truly sustains me and sustains choice and providers and clinics. If I woke up tomorrow in my dream world of abortion on demand and coffee flowing from my faucet and kittens all over my apartment, I would still leave my cat- and caffeine-filled apartment and go and proudly facilitate abortions and choice and justice. Because it would be the same amazing clients, dedicated staff, and a very much needed service. I believe in choice because of what it is fundamentally, not because of what it's been made into politically. Even if abortion were treated as casually as our society treats a Pap smear, if it bored people at cocktail parties, I would still honor and revere it, and THAT is badass.

I'm quite disappointed at the lack of stock images of women of color. I tried.

Full disclosure?

As a rule, I don't keep my status as an abortioneer a secret. I mean, my identity as an Abortioneer blogger is a secret, but as someone in the abortion field, I am out and proud. I've never had an abortion so I can't talk freely about that to erase the stigma, but I sure can talk about my job as a way to show that people who are pro-choice (or super-duper pro-choice) aren't the devil incarnate. The only times I can recall not disclosing my line of work were when the person I was talking to was wearing an "It's a child, not a choice T-shirt" (in that case, I ran away) or when I was at a party and starving and wanted to focus on my chips and dip rather than talk about the job where I'd been all day. I mean, I have my limits.

So, I've introduced myself to a group by saying, "I'm [Desembarazarme], I like to run, I paint in my spare time, and I work at an abortion clinic." I've told the woman in line at the grocery store, "I work at [abortion clinic name]. What do you do?" It's seamless and matter-of-act because that's how it is for me.

But during one of my standard introductions recently, I had the thought that my attitude might not be serving everyone. It occurred to me that the woman sitting next to me at the dinner party might be pro-choice, but she might be processing her own recent abortion. The older woman in the vintage NOW shirt might seem to me like an ally, but she might be an ally because her friend died in a pre-Roe abortion, and no matter how gleefully pro-choice I am, she might not need that reminder of abortion right here, right now. And even though I can be fairly certain that the college-aged super-liberal guy who's a barista at my neighborhood coffee shop isn't pregnant, that doesn't mean that his girlfriend isn't and that he isn't faced with a tough decision himself, and he's just at work in order to escape it for a minute.

My realizations made me worry that my very presence and my willingness to talk, talk, talk about abortion might backfire. They might make the wrong people consider the wrong things when I'm not meeting them where they are. In my haste to say, "Look at what pro-choice can be!", I forget what else pro-choice can be. It can be sad and personal and delicate. And I never want to serve as a reminder of that. I want to be a resource and shoulder to cry on and an empowering friend, but I don't want to be the face of what people deal with in their own time.

And I don't have answers to this unique situation I'm in. I want to be who I am, but not at the expense of those who are trying to be who they are in a more gray area. I've looked at life from both sides now.

"Why don't you..."

Ensure women are confident in the decisions they make about their problem pregnancies
Help women leave their abusive partners so they can have that baby
Combat domestic violence
Provide women with contraceptive services to avoid unplanned pregnancies
Find a job developing more effective forms of contraception
Prevent rape and sexual violence - so that "the innocent ones" don't have to have abortions, natch
Find counseling for assault victims
Throw them baby showers so they'll have "all the supplies they need"
Offer to adopt her children so she'll have time and energy for one more
Buy her kids the damn Christmas presents so she won't have to have the abortion (What?? Please work on distinguishing between a problem and its symptom, OK?)
Help her with the cost of a new baby
Pay their utility bills
Help them find safe cheap childcare...

*

Dear devoted denialist antis, regular know-it-alls, and well-meaning strangers/friends/family/bloggers who just think abortion "shouldn't be used so thoughtlessly": 


Thank you for your suggestions. We regretfully see that you consider yourselves geniuses for having hit on the one magic solution that no one has tried.


In order to keep this letter brief, I leave to your own heroic efforts the task of identifying which of these things we ALREADY DO that you just assumed we don't do, which of them we would NEVER DO because you are not adequately informed to dream up effective strategies ("tell her to Just Leave him!"), and which ones we would LOVE to do but lack the resources and/or magical patriarchy-busting power to do.


In fact the purpose of our reply is simply to ask you a question, since you brought it up.


Why don't you?


No, seriously. Why don't you do those things? Answer me, each of you, about your individual practices. And society-at-large, you answer me too. And when you've all answered why YOU don't do these things, I'll understand you a little better, and then one day maybe we can "discuss reasonable solutions" as you have proposed but are currently unprepared for.


We regret that we will not be working with you at this time but encourage you to submit future proposals that meet the minimum thoughtfulness standards.


Good luck,


Placenta Sandwich
VP of Irritated Blogging
The Abortioneers

Say It Loud and Proud!

Recently I told someone very awesome the name of this blog and they proclaimed "eek!" It was a joke implying the name is not socially acceptable. The joke didn't bother me one bit. However, it made me think about the social stigma involved in my work and the name of this blog. I personally did not name the blog, but I was supportive in its origin. I think we named it "The Abortioneers" because there is no shame in who we are. There is no shame in abortion. Sometimes it happens, and it may or may not be ideal, but abortion just is. I have been in the habit of telling people exactly where I work these days. It's always a bit of a conversation-maker, ya know. Most recently I've gotten responses like...

"Oh my, I should have covered his (my child's) ears."

"Oh, what a shame."

"Awesome!"

"What do you do there?"

"So what do you think about health care reform?"

"You really aren't doing anything with your degree, are you?"

I have met a few people with varying levels of comfort with abortion, and this isn't everyone, only the ones that stuck out to me. One response includes a long explanation of why the person's mother, an OB/GYN, does not provide abortions. As the Xmas season comes around, I have to consider: will I continue to be myself? Will I tell people exactly where I work?

Each day I feel surer about my line of work. I recently went through a procedure from start to finish as a patient advocate. I am considering getting more involved in clinical aspects and enrolling in a pre-med or nursing program. However, I still feel apprehensive about telling people where I work. When I saw that anti-abortion "WANTED" posters were popping up again it only made me more apprehensive. I'm not ashamed, but I do fear other people's radicalism. It gets pretty serious for some folks.

I love the name of this blog and I intend to keep finding a balance when it comes to "outing" myself as an abortioneer. I wish we lived in a world that understood abortion is a simple medical procedure.

Friends Of The Abortioneers: a gripe

Not long ago, my BFF told me that "on second thought, [I] probably shouldn't meet" one of his new friends because she had briefly expressed anti-abortion sentiments (something like "Well not that I support abortion") the last time they hung out. I asked my friend if he had said anything to respond to her...like, oh, say, "Well, I do support abortion rights, so you don't have to make any disclaimers around me." Or that his best friend provides abortion care and is a perfectly okay person. I don't know.

He said no, he hadn't said anything, and I realized I was hurt. He's known me for years, knows how important abortion is; why isn't that worth rocking the boat with someone he's just met? And why wouldn't you want to state your position early on -- what if this new friend simply assumes that's an OK thing to say to him, or to say in general? I even wondered if she's said it in front of women who, unbeknownst to her, have had abortions and now might never feel comfortable mentioning it.

I felt hurt even though I don't know this woman and don't particularly need to. I feel hurt when my mom lets her psycho friend be vocally anti-abortion in her presence, or when my dad seemed visibly relieved that I was going back to school and he could tell the relatives we were visiting that his daughter "works in public health." It's not outright rejection, but their silence isn't just about abortion as an abstract concept; it's like they're avoiding sticking up for me. And it bothers me even though I don't always stick up for myself.

Am I ashamed? Don't I want to educate people? Why wouldn't I always stick up for myself?

No; No; and, Because. No, I'm not ashamed. Okay, Yes I do want people to "be educated" about abortion, but No I don't want to do it in my local pharmacy or the video store I rent from every weekend. And maybe -- sometimes -- I don't want to be the one to do it. Maybe it would be nice if other people did some educating. People who could say "Someone I'm close to works in an abortion clinic, and from what I can tell it's an important part of healthcare that we shouldn't stigmatize or demonize." People who are far enough away from actually doing the work that, if they said this, it might make someone uncomfortable, but not make someone violent. People who are far enough away from the work that a bad reaction might make them disappointed, but not break their soul yet again.

~

If I were someone else, I might have been offended that my BFF thought I was too narrow-minded to hang out with someone who opposes abortion -- and I recognize that some people reading this might feel that way too. But I know that he was looking out for me, because I am that narrow-minded; or, less facetiously, because over the years I've decided that my time is better spent with people who can get their head around the fact that I find my work meaningful and valuable, and not wasted on those who need to be gently led back to Square One at potentially great personal risk.

I make exceptions for my grandparents, my middle-school teachers, my parents' close friends; I'll be social with them and skirt the subject. (Although I sense that if I have to see my mom's psycho friend again I'm going to snap.) I also make exceptions by not bringing it up with people I meet at parties, bars, or other noisy places where I am trying to have fun, not an upsetting high-decibel "debate," and don't plan to know you in the long-term. Or if a stranger on the bus wants to chat -- do you know that someone I know was followed on her commute home by an anti? After some instructive mishaps, I now make exceptions when meeting friends of friends, too. I don't like making a friend's evening awkward just because I responded to "So what do you do?" and their other friend couldn't pass up the chance to be rude.

On the face of it, maybe it doesn't sound fair for me to give myself all these passes but hold my family and friends accountable for their silences. But I don't care, actually. They could be my allies: their expenditure and risk in speaking up would be so low compared to mine. They ought to.

The upside of talking to strangers

just kidding

Hanging out with foreigners is a whole other Thing for me.

I don't mean foreigners exactly. What's a good word for "people who aren't from Abortionland"? I'm in a new place with lots of new people, so this is kind of on my mind lately (can you tell?).

Sometimes it makes me nervous. Obviously. I pretty much eatsleepbreathe abortion-related business, and those split-seconds of anxiety when someone thinks they're making innocuous smalltalk and asks So What Do You Do, they're an occupational hazard we've all come to know well.

Of course we've built little silos of experiential knowledge about ways to ease into it or leave it subtle (Women's Health, Reproductive Health, Family Planning), in case the person asking is not someone you want to get into it with. Other times you want to just say it, so you just say it, and hope that's OK. And once in a while you're feeling kinda wild and might even tell someone who never asked. But no matter what you say, that anxious split-second might pass and be forgotten, or it might drag out into interminable minutes, even hours if you're unlucky, of "debating" whether what you pour your heart into is evil and exploitative. (Whee!)

The reason I still bother is that sometimes it's totally fine -- is it sad that at this point "totally fine" can be kind of a thrill? -- and what's more, someone who doesn't eatsleepbreathe this stuff might say something I haven't heard or thought of before. As you know, I am a very clever and thoughtful and well-read and humble person, so you can imagine my surprise at learning something new, but it's true.

Longwinded Example Time: yesterday I was telling a new friend (who's training in public policy) about this unexpected hitch in what sounds like a great abortion policy. Where we are, first-trimester abortion is theoretically covered -- paid for! free! -- for residents who have public health insurance and go to a public health center for the procedure. It turns out, though, that to get the required preliminary ultrasound and bloodwork, patients often have to choose between waiting THREE TO FOUR WEEKS to have those processed at the hospital providing the abortion, or paying around a hundred dollars for a private office to do it within a few days. If you're poor and you are working within a short legal time frame, this could be disastrous. (Really. I've counseled so many women through the daunting challenge of finding a hundred dollars in a couple weeks, and as a result am aware of my enormous economic privilege every day.)

So, yeah, my constant and immediate thought about this situation is: even if you have great policy, you also need support and will all the way down the healthcare structure, so that the time-sensitive nature of abortion care is given importance and so that possibly-antis within the system don't cause unnecessary delays. Otherwise safe and timely abortion access continues to be segregated by economic class. Is anyone surprised? Same old story, sucks, now what?

When I paused my rant to take a breath, my friend said, "Sounds like the market organizing to meet demand that the health system hasn't caught up to." Oh yeah: that is another conclusion you could come to. And it isn't just about how or where ultrasounds get performed. It's also about how, where, and whether abortions themselves get performed. Having only worked at non-profits, I sometimes forget that the chance to make or lose money drives service availability -- it often feels like we're giving away care, which I'm proud of, but the wider world doesn't work that way. Assuming you have a public abortion system, if its workflow or providers are causing choke-points in service delivery, would-be patients aren't going to give up. Potential consequences:

• Feminist clinics [pdf] arise to provide women with care that isn't dependent on the patriarchal medical system (or on its judgments of what is urgent and what can be delayed). They are traditionally not-for-profit and its employees have a conflicted relationship with the need to, like, keep a roof over their heads. Seeking donations for sustenance is a whole other piece in this, Idunno, let's talk about that some other time.
• For-profit clinics arise to fill the supply void; some are great and perfectly feminist too, and some are mostly a business like most other medical practices and seek to maximize income.
• Private OB/GYNs and family practitioners begin providing abortions in-office after realizing that their regular patients keep seeking their advice, getting referrals to the hospital, then getting delayed.
• People who have little or no medical training begin offering under-the-table "pregnancy remedies" that range from safe and effective to useless or lethal. A client who survives is unlikely to report them because she knows they may be someone else's only recourse, too.
• Pharmacy workers will sell women misoprostol, an abortion-causing medication which is also prescribed as Cytotec to treat gastric ulcers, but at a significant markup because both parties know that the seller is doing an illegal favor and the buyer is desperate.
• What else?

ETA: look at this graph I found just this afternoon!

The Alan Guttmacher Institute (AGI), Sharing Responsibility: Women, Society and Abortion Worldwide, New York: AGI, 1999.

Anyway, I have been turning over in my head how my own experiences and training get me in a kind of thinking-rut, where certain conclusions and interpretations are super-obvious to me, and I lose any sense of how many other useful lenses there are out there. (Notice how I ended up wandering back to economic justice anyway?) So yeah, this is something for me to keep thinking about and try to be more open to. In conclusion, um, talking to strangers can be OK.

Sigh of the week: "With Liberty and Justice for Most" (In which I try to play well with others)

So I wanted to write you a little post all about Plan B and ellaOne. There is good news and bad news, about that. The good news is, I spent this weekend at a little surfing beach on the Pacific, complete with fishing boats and coconut at snacktime and very little internet access. The bad news is, there are no carefully-explained, well-researched blog posts to be had around these parts! Only chilled beers and split coconuts, it turns out.

So, sorry. You can read all about emergency contraception here soon, I promise. In the meantime, do check out NYCProchoiceMD's super post at abortion gang about mostly the same topic.

Today, a burning question: Am I the only one who's had bad experiences with libertarians?

You know, I get that libertarians supposedly value individual liberty above all else, even to a fault -- for example, to the point of denying responsibility for the suffering of many individuals due to collective oppression, or to the point of forgetting that the roads they drive on are paid for by taxes -- uhm, et cetera. But what's so interesting is that, given those values, some libertarians still (1) introduce themselves to me as "libertarian" [not normally of external prompting] and then (2) dare to tack on "...except for abortion."

Argh, fuck you, buddy!

This has happened to me multiple times, in inappropriate contexts -- like the noisiest bar I've ever been in, or a mutual friend's house party. Actually, I don't even think I've met libertarians who DON'T make exceptions to liberty when it comes to abortion. It's like, I'm minding my own business, maybe making small talk or waving down a bartender or trying to avoid secondhand smoke, and then some dude (it is always a dude!) decides that "I'm a libertarian" is a good conversation item, and then that "except for abortion" is totally consistent and sensible and not at all likely to provoke a negative reaction, and then what? Well, then I'm faced with the perpetual shitty choice:

A) Have a whole long conversation (they are always long!) about how no sense is being made, in which the dude will never attempt to understand the point of view of someone else (which shouldn't be a surprise because, hey, libertarian!), eventually leading me to despair of ever being able to meet a stranger normally like normal people do;
B) Let him say whatever he wants to so I can get through the situation with a minimum of time wasted;
C) Tell him I have a policy, ever since a few years ago, of generally not talking to "libertarians" and definitely not talking to "anti-choice libertarians," and try to gently leave.

After enduring too much heartache with strategy (A), I've moved on to (B) and (C). But recently I've acquired this temporary neighbor, who I know will be easier to get along with if I don't shut down on him. And he's perfectly nice most of the time, it's just: I'd be lying if I said I didn't cringe when he revealed a few weekends ago that he identifies as a libertarian, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't been avoiding the subject of abortion ever since because I don't even want to deal with the part where he might turn out to be anti-choice.

On the other hand, he's quite young and not from where I'm from and maybe it's not all his fault and potentially at this point I can/should afford to give him a break, or a chance to learn better, rather than avoid it entirely? But ugh, what a drag that is. Help, what do y'all think?

In exchange for your advice, here's a ridiculous picture I found:

(saw this in the Washington Independent)

PS: I recently told someone else I was an abortioneer -- after watching my first episode of "Sixteen and Pregnant" (very harrowing!), hah -- and he took it fine, we are even totally friends I think. Score one for notdouchebags!

Coming Out: I'm An Abortioneer

I've been doing this work for many years, but I'm still not at the place where I "out" myself as an Abortioneer to everyone in my life, all the time. And I'll admit: sometimes I feel guilty about not doing so. Sometimes I analyze myself, trying to figure out why I don't tell everyone; why I don't add certain people from my past on my Facebook; why I block access to my profile to even others on Facebook; why I don't just openly answer the question, "where do you work?" when anyone asks.

I'm proud to do this work. At the same time, I'm very aware there are some extreme "pro-life" freakazoids out there that feel so strongly about abortion, that they'd quite happily make sure we're (all Abortioneers) wiped off the face of the planet. I happen to live in a conservative place and I just don't know what I'm going to encounter at any point in time when I "come out." Still, I mostly have positive experiences when I say where I work. (Positive = no jeering or creepy stares like "I'm gonna get you" or big abortion debate.)

Recently, I spent time with a friend whom I've known for nearly 20 years. It became evident that I pretty much had only told him about the family planning and STI services at our clinic. When I was complaining about our protesters, he was incredibly confused. Certainly, throughout the 20 years of our friendship, I must've - somewhere - somehow actually TOLD him we did abortions! I HAD NOT! I was a bit mortified. (With myself.) So I came out. "We do abortions," I said. Not too shell shocked, he just said, "I thought you took care of infections here." I said we did and that was true. Slightly desperate, I asked, "Haven't I told you before? I've really never told you? Straight out?" Blank stare, "Nope." This friend and I had grown up in the same church, the same religion. I was a bit worried it might be the end of the road in our friendship, to be honest. Instead, as he sat in my office and eyed a sample Nuva Ring, he was just like,"Um. What's THAT?" So I explained. Then he saw our pretty basket which holds our abortion instruments to show women when telling them about the procedure. "What are those?" I explained. And I became keenly aware that Abortioneers' office spaces are *not* typical office spaces! Next, a barrage of abortion questions: how far along can you go; what's legal in the US; how is it done; how often do you do them; are you doing them right now; how many a week do you do? I was shocked. He wasn't mad. I think he's still my friend.

I know I just need to get over myself and be more open, generally, about my work, despite living in a conservative community. Or maybe I don't. I'm still not sure. I suspect I'm not the only person out there that sometimes experiences trepidation when outting themselves as an Abortioneer. Maybe you can share some of your thoughts, stories?

The Hills Are Alive With The Sound of My Heart Palpitations

So, I recently got a boyfriend. Squee!

My boyfriend, like most boyfriends, has a mom. Unlike most moms, she used to be a nun. I mean straight up walking-around-in-a-habit nun. Unsurprisingly, she is very pro-life. Very. Pro-life. Anti-Choice as I like to call 'em.

I am slated to meet this lady next weekend. Yes. Awkward. So so awkward. I have already played out how this will go 10,000 times in my head.

Scenario 1:
Boyfriend: Mom, this is Mr. Banana Grabber.
Mr. Banana Grabber: Hi! It's really nice to meet you!
Nun Mom: So, where do you work, Mr. Banana Grabber?
Mr. Banana Grabber: Um... I work at a non-profit that focuses on women's issues.
Nun Mom: Oh?? What's the name of it?
Mr. Banana Grabber: Um...
Nun Mom: *silent judgement*

Scenario 2:
Boyfriend: Mom, this is Mr. Banana Grabber.
Mr. Banana Grabber: Hi! It's really nice to meet you!
Nun Mom: So, where do you work, Mr. Banana Grabber?
Mr. Banana Grabber: Um... I help low-income women get abortions.

Nun Mom:


















Scenario 3:
Boyfriend: Mom, this is Mr. Banana Grabber.
Mr. Banana Grabber: Hi! It's really nice to meet you!
Nun Mom: So, where do you work, Mr. Banana Grabber?
Mr. Banana Grabber: Um... I'm a cashier.
Nun Mom: *silent judgement*

So I am pretty stressed about this. I mean, I refuse to lie about my job or make something up. That isn't an option. It's strange though because I am definitely feeling the need to play the whole thing down. But the fact I am even considering doing that makes me feel all sorts of weird. Am I a bad Abortioneer for wanting to do that? I am not sure how to best handle it. What do you guys think?