Showing Up
On my phone, I scroll and see photos from the last Abortion rights protest outside of SCOTUS I attended. There were hundreds of us, wearing teal green winter hats (thanks, Planned Parenthood!), carrying smart, creative, angry signs. There were speeches from members of Congress and a few celebrities. We were packed side by side on the wide sidewalk outside of the Supreme Court building. The date was March 4, 2020.
One week later, our world changed. News of Covid cases in the U.S. were inching up. On March 12, Broadway shows shuttered. On Friday the 13th, my office sent us all home, to work from home, wait this out, for what we all thought would be a few weeks.
Fast forward to Monday, November 1, 2021. Almost 20 months to the date, I returned to DC while SCOTUS heard the Texas SB8 case. I boarded a 5am bus after showing proof of vaccination, and promised to wear my mask for the 5 hour bus ride there, and back.
I almost didn’t go. I had planned to go to DC on Dec. 1 for the “real” SCOTUS abortion rights case. But this one just got announced. It’s a pain in the ass for me to get down to DC from NYC; it’s a long day of travel, even without a global pandemic.
And yet.
What if “their” side showed up and we didn’t? What would those optics look like? Plus, I’m lucky; I can take a day off from work. So I went. Because sometimes, just being a body to be counted matters.
When we got to the Supreme Court building, we walked past a very large group of high school-aged kids wearing bright red “The Pro-Life Generation VOTES” t-shirts. They had a fancy sound system. And banners and signs and music. And energy. So much energy.
Seeing all of those young women, laughing and smiling, in their red shirts, holding red heart balloons made me sad more than anything else. The teenage boys who were with them just plain infuriated me.
At that age, we think we know everything. That life will be good and fair and we won’t fuck up too badly. That the “mistakes” we make couldn’t possibly affect us for the rest of our lives. That we won’t get pregnant unless we want to have a child. And if we do choose to have a child, it will be at the exact right time in our lives and that it will be healthy, and we will be healthy.
I took out my bag of sidewalk chalk and wrote in the street in front of them: “someone you know had an abortion.” They all saw it… they couldn’t not see it. Perhaps it resonated more with their parents and chaperones.
Later that morning I saw a trio of girls taking selfies, oblivious to the fact that they were standing over my chalked “ABORTION IS HEALTHCARE” on the sidewalk.
The juxtaposition of those smiling girls against “our” side was palpable. There was no smiling or singing or music for us. We were angry. And sad. And frightened. We knew the gravity of what was taking place in that building. Which is why we showed up.
We showed up, because we are lucky and privileged and we could.
We showed up, to say “FUCK YOU, TEXAS POLITICIANS” and this egregious, unconstitutional SB8 case.
We showed up, so the photographers could take photos of “both sides.”
We showed up, for our nieces and daughters and granddaughters.
We showed up, to make our mothers proud.
We showed up, because our friends couldn’t take the day off.
We showed up, because Roe v. Wade is at stake.
We showed up, because abortion is healthcare.
We showed up FOR those high schoolers, because they don’t think they will ever want or need an abortion, but we know that at least 25% of them will.
If you can, I hope to see you on December 1 in DC outside of SCOTUS. I’ll bring the chalk.
Because sometimes, just to be a body, to be counted, matters.
Karin Schall is the Manager of Special Events at Lincoln Center Theater, where she has worked for over 25 years.
In addition to being a proud Board Member of A is For, she is also on the Board of Projects With Care and is an active member of Rise and Resist. Karin lives in Hell's Kitchen and can be seen out at protests or chalking the neighborhood in her free time.