Swimming this weekend with my kids we played my favorite pool game: tea party. Four of us gathered in a tight circle and dunked under the water at the same time. I yelled a secret phrase as loudly and clearly as I could, then stood up and waited for them to guess what I said. They looked at me, puzzled. No guesses.
We tried again. And again. And again. Each time I yelled louder and enunciate more carefully. Finally, on the fifth or sixth round, my daughter finally heard me correctly. “MICKEY MOUSE!” she yelled.
The ongoing debate about abortion in this country bares some similarities to this underwater communication game. Both sides chant loudly and enunciate clearly, but they could all just as well be underwater. Their opponents can not understand them.
Unlike my recent game, however, when it comes to the debate on abortion, both sides have practically stopped listening or trying to understand.
Last week, in revoking the Mexico City Policy, President Obama said, “I have no desire to continue this stale and fruitless debate,” and pledged to bring people from all sides together for a fresh conversation on abortion.
I immediately dismissed this promise. A fresh conversation on abortion? Impossible.
Later, I began to consider the alternative. If we can’t somehow initiate a new conversation, the abortion issue will continue to be a game of political “keep away.” When liberals are in charge, national policies will make abortion easier. When conservatives hold the reins, policies will restrict abortions.
This is how it’s been for 36 years. I was four when the “keep away” game began.
So, assuming President Obama is sincere in his desire to create a new conversation, I’ve been thinking about what that might be. What would it sound like? How do you bring these ardent foes together?
First, a new conversation demands that neither side will receive everything they want. This has always been the first and final stumbling block on this issue. Pro-life groups can cede no ground on the taking of innocent life. And the pro-choice advocates stand firmly against any government infringement on a woman’s ability to manage her own body.
End of discussion.
But what if, in a new conversation, Roe v Wade was off the table? What if advocates for life gave up efforts to repeal Roe v Wade? What if we accepted that in terms of U.S. law -- not church teachings, spiritual understanding or moral positioning but legally speaking -- U.S. women have a legal right to chose?
Would this giant concession open the door to a fresh conversation on abortion? And could that liberate people in both camps to quit defending their most pure positions and get about the work of reducing the 1.2 million abortions in this country each year?
Ultimately, abortion is a lose-lose choice. Except in the case of rape, the mother (and father if he’s consulted) lose a life of their own making, the baby loses its future, thousands of potential adoptive parents lose an opportunity to love and parent that child, and society loses the promise inherent to that life.
I believe most Americans view abortion as an undesirable solution. No one, at least no one I’ve ever met, wakes up in the morning and thinks, “If only we could have more abortions in this country. That would be good for America.”
But in fighting to maintain a woman’s right to make this most intimate and significant decision, the pro-choice community has had to diminish the value of the life at stake. Granting any rights or compassion for the unborn child could jeopardize the woman’s exclusive authority to determine her and her baby’s destiny.
This position takes its most extreme form with pro-choice advocates who have more compassion for mistreated animals than for a baby girl accidentally born out of a botched abortion.
We are more reasonable than this. We can do a lot better, working together to reduce unwanted pregnancies, to empower women, to promote life and maintain choice while minimizing and maybe even someday eliminating the need for or use of abortion.
Or we can remain in the swimming pool, continue our underwater conversations and let the game of “keep away” continue.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Answering An Important Call
When a friend of mine announced last year that he was running for the legislature, he was surprised at first by the reaction from people. He expected a few pats on the back. Maybe a couple, “Atta boys.”
But most people -- friends, co-workers, even service club members -- said something quite different. “Why the heck do you want to do something like that? Are you crazy?”
I’m wasn’t too surprised by this response. Legislators are easy targets for criticism, especially during the session. People like to highlight frivolous bills to represent the work of the group as a whole. “Why are they wasting time selecting a state fruit?” critics grumbled last session. “Don’t they have more important things to do?”
Another favorite, “Rather than meeting for 80 days every two years, they should meet for two days every 80 years.” The crowd roars. Heads nod in agreement.
I have a different perspective. For almost 15 years, I’ve been ringside at our state’s legislative process – working for the governor, the legislature or as a lobbyist. I’ve been in public hearings and closed door meetings alike.
I don’t see a bunch of men and women bumbling dumbly through the process, milking the system for freebees and health benefits, or maneuvering laws to benefit themselves. I can’t honestly think of one such example.
Rather, I see 141 normal North Dakotans -- dads, moms, grandparents, farmers, business people and young professionals. People with families, careers and hobbies who somehow manage to extract themselves from their real lives to devote nearly four straight months to lawmaking.
Their days begin early, frequently end late and in between they live, eat and breathe policy, politics and potato skins. People line up to talk to them in the halls of the capitol, outside hearing rooms, at their desks, or through their computer, phone and mail.
Unlike many states, our citizen lawmakers act on every single piece of legislation introduced. Last session, that was nearly 950 bills including the state fruit initiative started by high school students as a way to learn about the legislative process.
I love the fact that in North Dakota anyone who wants to change our laws can try to by simply finding a legislator to introduce a bill. Every idea gets a fair hearing and a vote. No one sits at the gate and says, “This is a good bill, we’ll talk about that. But you there with the dumb idea, that one won’t be heard in my committee.”
Legislators are personal spokespeople for us in our self-governing process. They set policies that have significant consequences on life as we know it -- like whether we can drive and talk on a cell phone at the same time.
And they walk line-by-line through thousands of pages of the state budget that funds 73 agencies and all of our vital services. Want to see what’s involved in this? Sit in on an appropriations hearing for a day -- or even an hour. (Be sure to bring coffee, or Red Bull.)
In return for their work, North Dakota’s part-time legislators receive about $13,500/year plus health insurance. Taxpayers also cover room and board for legislators while they are in session. Not a pittance, but certainly not outrageous. Minnesota legislators earn twice as much. South Dakota about the same.
In California, legislators receive $110,000 year, a free car and nearly $150 per day for expenses.
At the opening of this year’s session, the Jamestown High School choir sang a beautiful song that paid tribute to those who “answer freedom’s call so freedom’s cry will still stay strong.”
Listening to the lyrics, images of soldiers and veterans came to mind. But as I looked around the legislative chambers at the people serving as our representatives, I realized they too had answered freedom’s call. Often, like in the case of my friend, without a lot of public support or encouragement.
Our legislators and the laws they pass aren’t perfect, and the process can be ugly. But the final product has been serving North Dakotans pretty well. Maybe these folks are a little crazy, but I’m sure thankful they are answering this call.
But most people -- friends, co-workers, even service club members -- said something quite different. “Why the heck do you want to do something like that? Are you crazy?”
I’m wasn’t too surprised by this response. Legislators are easy targets for criticism, especially during the session. People like to highlight frivolous bills to represent the work of the group as a whole. “Why are they wasting time selecting a state fruit?” critics grumbled last session. “Don’t they have more important things to do?”
Another favorite, “Rather than meeting for 80 days every two years, they should meet for two days every 80 years.” The crowd roars. Heads nod in agreement.
I have a different perspective. For almost 15 years, I’ve been ringside at our state’s legislative process – working for the governor, the legislature or as a lobbyist. I’ve been in public hearings and closed door meetings alike.
I don’t see a bunch of men and women bumbling dumbly through the process, milking the system for freebees and health benefits, or maneuvering laws to benefit themselves. I can’t honestly think of one such example.
Rather, I see 141 normal North Dakotans -- dads, moms, grandparents, farmers, business people and young professionals. People with families, careers and hobbies who somehow manage to extract themselves from their real lives to devote nearly four straight months to lawmaking.
Their days begin early, frequently end late and in between they live, eat and breathe policy, politics and potato skins. People line up to talk to them in the halls of the capitol, outside hearing rooms, at their desks, or through their computer, phone and mail.
Unlike many states, our citizen lawmakers act on every single piece of legislation introduced. Last session, that was nearly 950 bills including the state fruit initiative started by high school students as a way to learn about the legislative process.
I love the fact that in North Dakota anyone who wants to change our laws can try to by simply finding a legislator to introduce a bill. Every idea gets a fair hearing and a vote. No one sits at the gate and says, “This is a good bill, we’ll talk about that. But you there with the dumb idea, that one won’t be heard in my committee.”
Legislators are personal spokespeople for us in our self-governing process. They set policies that have significant consequences on life as we know it -- like whether we can drive and talk on a cell phone at the same time.
And they walk line-by-line through thousands of pages of the state budget that funds 73 agencies and all of our vital services. Want to see what’s involved in this? Sit in on an appropriations hearing for a day -- or even an hour. (Be sure to bring coffee, or Red Bull.)
In return for their work, North Dakota’s part-time legislators receive about $13,500/year plus health insurance. Taxpayers also cover room and board for legislators while they are in session. Not a pittance, but certainly not outrageous. Minnesota legislators earn twice as much. South Dakota about the same.
In California, legislators receive $110,000 year, a free car and nearly $150 per day for expenses.
At the opening of this year’s session, the Jamestown High School choir sang a beautiful song that paid tribute to those who “answer freedom’s call so freedom’s cry will still stay strong.”
Listening to the lyrics, images of soldiers and veterans came to mind. But as I looked around the legislative chambers at the people serving as our representatives, I realized they too had answered freedom’s call. Often, like in the case of my friend, without a lot of public support or encouragement.
Our legislators and the laws they pass aren’t perfect, and the process can be ugly. But the final product has been serving North Dakotans pretty well. Maybe these folks are a little crazy, but I’m sure thankful they are answering this call.
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