It’s about women’s health, reproductive health & the health of the unborn fetus. It’s about the right to bodily autonomy, & the fight for women’s rights that has been going on for centuries. It has implications, not just for women & children, but for the LGBTQ+ community. It’s about the countless crimes & injustices committed against women, & the repercussions, or lack thereof, for the ones who committed them.
It’s a nuanced issue. It’s not black & white, & treating it as though it is may be the biggest injustice committed. It cannot be treated as if every situation is the same, & that women cannot make the best decision for themselves, their own bodies & their loved ones. It’s insulting, it’s disappointing, & it’s incredibly scary for a number of women who don’t have options that others have.
It’s not about abortion. It is, & always has been, about so much more than that. And all of that needs to be a part of the conversation, not just people yelling at each other from two different sides of a platform & never listening to one another.
At the end of the day, I think what we all want is to keep people safe & cause the smallest amount of harm possible. And once we realize that we have that in common, maybe we can shed these labels of pro-choice & pro-life & realize we are all pro-love. And then, maybe, we can actually reach a real solution that helps instead of hurts, lifts people up instead of tearing them down, & truly saves the lives of those we care about most.
Note: For the privacy of my old friends, names have been changed in this story.
In second grade, you don’t know much about the world. You don’t know who is in office or who you are going to grow up to be. You don’t know what the latest news is or why everyone is obsessed with that celebrity. What you do know are the names of your friends, & you know when they are not speaking to you.
Second grade was already a difficult year. My friend, Maya, had already decided I wasn’t as cool as she thought, & she had moved on to a new girl to hang out with at recess. My crush found out I liked him & had been avoiding me for weeks. And I had spoken out in class about my special ability to see atoms & molecules, only to discover that wasn’t possible & the fuzzy things I saw on the walls were a sight impediment.
But the worst day was when I came to lunch, & my friends refused to talk to me. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. I implored Avery & Charlotte, the two brunettes across from me, to please speak with me, to tell me how to make things right. But they remained silent as stone. The following day, they didn’t even give me a chance to speak with them. Instead, they sat at another table with Maya & her new clique, & I was left alone.
Hot tears burned my eyes as I gulped down the sob in my throat. I didn’t understand. I thought I had finally made some real friends. I had spent nearly my first three years of elementary school friendless, but Avery had been the girl to reach out to me one lonely day at recess & spark a friendship that I thought would last forever. Charlotte had been introduced to me not long after, & the three of us, I thought, were inseparable. Even when Maya had decided I was no longer worth her time & had abandoned me to hang out with Aria, Avery & Charlotte had remained by my side. But now, I was alone once again, & it felt even worse than before.
Friday evening, I came home from school with tears streaming down my face. I sat at my dining room table & asked my mother what I had done wrong. She said she was confused because Avery & Charlotte had planned to come over to play that afternoon. When their mothers’ cars pulled into the driveway, my mother told me not to talk about what had happened.
“Just play with Avery & Charlotte as if everything is fine,” my mother said. “Maybe they will forget about whatever they were upset about, & you can all be friends again.”
When Avery & Charlotte came inside, they were strangely silent & shifty. I asked if they wanted to go to the playhouse outside, & they agreed quietly. Together, we trudged down the steep hill in my backyard to the bright yellow & purple playhouse. Just before we reached the structure, I heard Avery & Charlotte stop walking. I froze, unsure if they would follow me inside or not. I could hear them whispering amongst themselves, & I felt myself grow cold, wondering if they were making fun of me.
“Tyler,” Avery called.
“Yeah?” I turned & immediately they lunged at me, their hands in the air, large grins on their faces.
“Surprise,” they shouted. I gaped at them, confused.
“What,” I asked.
“Happy birthday,” they exclaimed. I stared, still confused, & then slowly a smile grew across my face.
“You threw me a surprise party,” I asked, bewildered.
“Yeah, come on!” Avery said. The two of them grabbed my hands & dragged me inside to where my mother had decorated the house with banners & balloons.
“We’re sorry we didn’t talk to you this week,” Avery said. “We were so excited! We were worried we would let the surprise slip.”
“We knew your birthday was this weekend, & we wanted to surprise you,” Charlotte said.
In second grade, you don’t know what the latest advances in medicine are, or where you are going to go to college. You also don’t know the proper etiquette for throwing a surprise party. But you do know who your true friends are, & you know just how special it is to have people who want to make you feel loved.
It was a hot day in August when Joseph and I decided to visit our nation’s capitol.
I spent a day planning our itinerary, & then we left early on a Tuesday in Joseph’s black Mazda. As we drove into the city, the tall buildings I was expecting greeted us first, but then, lush, green trees surrounded our car.
Our first stop was the Smithsonian Zoo. To avoid zoo parking costs, we drove to Porter St. NW, thanks to a tip online. However, upon arriving, we found that there was only two hour parking available, which would not be long enough for us to explore the zoo. So instead, we drove around for a few minutes, and we luckily stumbled along free residential parking just a couple blocks away from the zoo. We ate a quick breakfast at the car and then walked the busy DC morning streets to our destination.
We strolled down the brick-laden streets that wound around the animal exhibits, peering in with bated breath and repeatedly turning away, disappointed. The animals were nowhere to be found.
The air was already growing humid and sweat was brimming on our foreheads in the August morning air as we approached the elephant exhibit.
“What if the elephants are hiding, too?“ Joseph asked. I looked back at him, dread washing over me.
“I don’t want to think about it,” I said. Elephants are my favorite animal.
Luckily, the elephants were not hiding away like the other animals. They lumbered around their pen, grazing and enjoying the warm sun. I gazed at the majestic creatures with the same wonder I always do, looking deep into their amber eyes and seeing the same wisdom and beauty that always encapsulates me.
The Elephant Trails Exhibit at the Smithsonian Zoo
Once I had finally had my fill, we explored the rest of the zoo with much more success. The animals had finally come out. We laughed while we watched the otters play and gazed, fascinated, at the stately cats panting in the hot sun.
Just before leaving the zoo, Joseph dragged me into the Great Ape House, my least favorite place in the zoo. I have been terrified of monkeys since I was a little girl, and that fear has not subsided in the slightest over the years. I watched in terror as the orangutans swung from branch to branch and the angry gorilla charged the glass.
I don’t think we lasted more than two minutes in that exhibit, but that was plenty of time for me. I would have rather spent more time with the elephants.
We were both famished by the time we left the zoo. While Joseph went to get our car, I stopped by Starbucks to get us two large iced lattes and our special mug that we get from every trip we take. We are currently trying to visit all 50 states, and from each one, we get a Starbucks mug from the “Been There” series. It’s our special little souvenir that represents where we have been, as well as our coffee addiction.
We drove to the National Mall, which proved to be an even trickier place to find parking. When we finally did find a spot, we were both growing hangrier by the minute. We walked to a nearby patch of grass and immediately began picnicking. We both felt much better with food in our stomachs, sipping ice cold coffee.
By now, sweat was pouring down our backs. My hair was unkempt, and we were both itchy from the grass. It was quite tempting to jump into the glistening water beside us, or to turn home to take a blissfully cold shower. But after traveling in a car around the state of Colorado for nearly two weeks, we are no strangers to discomfort during our adventures, and we always try to make the most of it. So, as planned, we walked around the entire loop of the National Mall. Good conversation and the incredible statues kept us occupied.
When we stepped into the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial, followed shortly by the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, I couldn’t help but reflect on the current events rocking our country. The Black Lives Matter protests were still at their height. Anger had painted our country into two distinct colors of red and blue. The election was still a couple months away, but already I felt the divisiveness and fear in the hearts of my fellow Americans.
Our walk took much longer than expected – hours later, we were ready for dinner. We drove to Georgetown, or rather, what we thought was Georgetown, and then drove an additional 45 minutes searching desperately for parking. When we finally found a small spot on a beaten down road, we discovered to our dismay that we were on the wrong side of the city. We were on the right street, but our actual destination was a seven minute drive away. It doesn’t sound like much, but it was not a walkable distance, and it meant we would have to search for parking again.
We were exhausted but liberated when we drove into Georgetown and found it was the main street feel we had been searching for. The tall, ornate buildings had been replaced by small, locally-owned shops and restaurants. Luckily, we found parking within a few minutes, and then we searched for the restaurant we wanted to visit. We settled on an American cuisine (I mean, we were visiting the American capitol, after all); we dined at Clydes, a family-owned restaurant that believes in using local and sustainable ingredients in their cooking. The atmosphere was classy, but no doubt American. We sat down at a leather booth, surrounded by ornate woodwork, and listening to 80s rock music playing softly in the background.
Joseph ordered a burger and some of the best French fries I have ever tasted in my life. I got a salad with grilled salmon. Neither of us were disappointed. The meat and seafood were cooked to a succulent perfection, seasoned so astutely we both couldn’t stop eating.
We ended our meals satisfied and ready to return home after a long day. On our walk back to the car, we perused a few shops, but we were both too tired to take our time.
When we arrived home, we each took long, cool showers and then crashed into our beds, ready for a long night’s rest. Visiting our nation’s capitol had been an exciting trip, one we would not soon forget.
We didn’t tell this story right away, though. Life seemed to only grow crazier, both in our personal lives and in our nation. I was working way too many hours to also be regularly posting on a blog. However, every time I received a free moment and thought about posting this story, I thought it might seem tactless to describe a blissful day in our nation’s capitol with all of the tumultuous events occurring at that very place.
And then, the events of January 6 occurred, when fellow Americans stormed the U.S. Capitol building with guns and bombs, disrupting the peaceful transition of power our country has respected for hundreds of years. It was shocking to watch the videos, just as it was shocking to watch the violence take place during the Black Lives Matter protests last summer. And both times, I realized I sat safe at home while others were hurt. I sat at home while my brothers and sisters were killed. It made me sick to my stomach.
Me outside the Smithsonian Zoo
So, why am I posting this story now? The timing is no better than it was before. Well, all I can say is, it was a beautiful day, in our nation’s capitol. Despite it being unbearably hot and an exhausting trip, it was a beautiful day spent in the city our nation depends on every day.
When I think back to the trip now, I think about the moments I spent gazing up at the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. I think about what he fought for, the reason he is remembered in granite and in our hearts today. I wonder what he would think of the divisiveness in our nation now. I wonder what he would say about the protests, the riots, the hurt, and the pain.
I cannot speak for him, but what I will say is that I think the time has come for us to unify once again. I think it is time to rebuild, and to build it much better this time. I think it is time that we listen to one another instead of yell at one another, that we build each other up instead of tear each other down. I think it’s time for forgiveness, as hard as it may be, and to soften our hardened hearts to the possibility of love and building a better future.
I don’t think it will be easy. I don’t think it is something I can just write and then it will happen. It’s going to take patience, hard work, and a lot of uncomfortable conversations. I imagine I will have to be in a lot of situations that are far more discomforting that this day in Washington, DC. But I am more than willing, and I hope you are, too.
Because, as Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
Joseph and me just a few minutes away from his house – we made it home just as the sun was setting
There has been a shadow of darkness over our nation, and hate has been spewed for generations. I know standing up against this overwhelming cloud of wickedness and corruption takes courage, but I think it also takes a lot of love. And if I want to be remembered for anything in my life, I want it to be for how I loved. I hope my writing is a part of the dim light shining through, and my intention is that whoever is reading this feels only love from my words.
Let’s drive out the darkness together, one small step at a time, and let’s love the hate out of this nation, one person at a time. It’s what we all have the power to do. It’s what we were born here with the freedom to do. And as Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “The time always right to do what is right.”
P.S. Watch Joseph’s vlog about this trip on his YouTube channel – & don’t forget to subscribe!
