A Few Rounds with Mother Teresa

I really didn’t want to yell. It was such a nice day. The sky was clear. The birds were chirping. We’d had so many days of rain this past summer and then, finally, a beautiful day dawned. When I left the house that morning bright and early, I promised myself I wouldn’t yell. I’d be civil and dignified. And I was. I was...for a whole two hours. And then, he had to do it. My Congressman. That cutie pie. Chris Murphy. He just had to call on the woman a few feet in front of me to the right. The one who looked like she usually only left the house on grey, cloudy days and then, only if she really had to. The one who looked like the sun hurt her eyes. I mean, was she actually wearing a mantilla? Or am I just embroidering the memory now? She was dressed in black from bun to pumps except for the dull cross weighing down her neck. I don’t know why he did it. There were so many more normal looking people there…stretching their arms up to that clear, happy sky, just waiting to be called on. People who wanted to ask questions about the public option and Tort reform. But no, he called on Lady Gloom and Doom. And so she began.

“Oh, I’m very worried,” she labored. “I just don’t know. I think the new health care..it will make people pay for..ABORTION when they don’t want to.”

“That’s not true.” I civilly and politely corrected her. What, dear Internet? Yes, you're right, it was her turn to talk and not mine. I was just trying to be helpful. I didn’t go into all the ways in which it wasn’t true but I could have. I just didn’t want to take up too much of her turn. Wasn’t that civil and dignified of me?


“Yes! Oh, yes, it is so true!” This scolding, nasal voice came from a burly man who appeared to be accompanying Mother Teresa. I looked up at him. His arms were folded and his tone was similar to that of my little brother, if I had a little brother. I made a civil and dignified decision not to talk to him.


For one brief moment, the woman in black looked as if she couldn’t decide whether to go on. Alas, she decided she could. “And, as a Christian,” she quavered. Here we go, I thought silently. To myself. Silently. How civil and dignified was that? “I’m so worried that people who don’t want to…you know….doctors and nurses and those people…those people will have to do abortions even if they don’t want to. Even if it goes against their beliefs!” She clutched her chest when she said beliefs. Then shot me a look and said, “And there will be vivisections!” her voice rising.


“Oh, come ON!” I interrupted loudly. This was too much! Civility and dignity could take a flying leap! I looked around me for support. I couldn’t be the only person who was outraged by this. But no one would meet my eyes. Maybe they were all trying to look dignified? Instead, another rather rotund man turned around to tell me helpfully that it was, in fact, true and that I should go home and look up vivisections in the bill myself. Rrright, I civilly scoffed.


“And,” she said triumphantly, “ I just don’t believe in abortion.”


“THEN  DON’T  HAVE  ONE!” I yelled. At the top of my lungs. As loud as I could. I had crumpled up civility and dignity and fashioned them into a megaphone.

Maybe it was the loudness. Maybe it was the fact that I yelled this at a woman, obviously, well past her childbearing years...I don’t know, but that’s when that cutie pie Chris Murphy told us both to pipe down and reminded us all that he was pro-choice. Well, dear internet, at this news, Mother Teresa kind of tottered over to the edge of the stage where Chris was speaking and just collapsed right against it. Mind you, this woman had already stood through about two and a half hours of the town meeting on healthcare reform with the stamina of a workhorse but apparently the last two and a half minutes were just too much for her. A small crowd gathered around her in sympathy. She leaned into the middle of it, all the while giving me the evil eye.  I don’t know how civil that was.

In the meantime, another quite elderly gentleman next to me (they just kept appearing!) spat at me: “Why don’t YOU have one?" Then he appeared to stew for a moment before he spat out some more, "Maybe it’ll make you less angry!” Huh. Wiping away the spittle and wondering if this fellow had oatmeal for breakfast, I thought to myself, I’ve heard many reasons given for terminating a pregnancy. All personal. Never that one. I looked at his unshaven face and unfocused eyes and decided I wouldn’t discuss my family planning options with this particular gentleman in this particular venue.

So, in case you were wondering, as you were sitting on your sofa this summer watching the images of irate folks at town hall meetings across the country on your television set…who were those crazy people? Exactly who were those lunatics standing up and yelling at each other? Well, now you know. One of them, at least, was me. I didn’t want this whole healthcare debate to end without identifying myself. Just your average, everyday woman: a mom of 3 who shops at Target, drives a beat-up van, walks her dog, volunteers at her kids' schools and watches way too black & white movies on TV. And who also happens to believe with all her heart that women’s bodies belong to us alone, along with all the decisions that come with them.

And, yes, when it comes down to it, I will make a lot of noise to protect women's rights to make those decisions ourselves even if you do come to the fight dressed like Mother Teresa.

Me and that Pro-Choice Cutie Pie!