COLUMN: Choices

From Charlotte Druckman's "Putting It Bluntly," Fall '94 I am by no means a radical political advocate, but that cute little pro-life slogan, "Life. What a beautiful choice?" makes me nauseous. Perhaps, my having attended an all-girls high school, where topics like this were the norm and pro-choice prevailed, have rendered me more sensitive to this shibboleth. I vividly recall one spring afternoon when I was trying to finish some eleventh hour homework. One of my classmates came through the door complaining that "pro-life stole 'choice' ." This triggered off a whole discussion -- I refrain from using the word debate, because out of a class of 38 girls, maybe one of us was pro-life. We were all furious about this blatant attempt to twist the words and ideas of the argument for choice. Each time I watched one of those corny commercials featuring fair-haired cherubim who were "saved," or who might not have been born had their parents decided to abort, I was enraged. Didn't the pro-life people have any creativity of their own, or were they so close-minded that they were compelled to borrow other people's words? In high school, these sorts of things affected me because I was in an environment where I was bombarded with theories and discussions about such issues as abortion. As much as I might have groaned at this notion of force-feeding, it motivated me to think and to care. I did not realize this until I came to the University of Pennsylvania where I seem to have adopted the attitude of "out of sight, out of mind." It was not until an outwardly meaningless encounter during spring reading period that I noticed my own passivity and growing indifference toward issues that used to confront and affront me. On the corner of 34th and Walnut, at the very edge of Locust Walk, stood a sweet-looking, matronly woman. She was a cross between a prim librarian and a kindly grandmother. "Support pro-life," she blandly stated, smiling as she thrust a flyer at me. I was too stunned to make an assertive retort such as, "I am choosing not to take this." As I walked past this vestige of an elderly piano teacher, I began to feel enraged and disgusted. The same sneakiness responsible for manipulating our words had just manifested itself in this scheme to stand on the outskirts of campus instead of in the center of Locust walk, the sounding board of the school. What was more, this woman was an unjust representative. I am aware that pro-choicers can get violent and loud, but I am also conscious of the fact that pro-lifers have stood in front of abortion clinics with their cohorts, yelling at incoming women and physically hindering their entrance into the clinics. I cannot remember what I ate for lunch. I was too busy remembering that I alone determine what goes into my body. This includes what I put in my stomach for lunch and what I carry in my womb. Soon my anger began to take a new route. In high school, I did not have a choice when it came to pondering abortion or voicing an opinion. Now however, no one is around to make me pursue my beliefs or act on what upsets me. How could I allow myself to become apathetic when confronted with the ability to choose whether to get involved in or ignore a topic that could evoke so much response from me? I later pondered the word "choice" in terms of abortion, slogans and my own decisions. That was when it hit me. One may interpret this pet-peeve so that it actually celebrates the opinion of pro-choicers. The pro-life lobby may think it has triumphed by using our platform against us, when in reality, by borrowing our verbiage they are acknowledging that there is room for choice. They are legitimizing the notion that women have the right to choose in the first place, just as I have right to change my apathy into action. Enclosed in the bubble of this generally disinterested campus, one does not always notice what effect living here can have. Sometimes a small dosage of reality in an unexpected form can help one retrieve the voice that was unconsciously silenced due to laziness or assimilation. It may be aiming too high to ask yourself to move mountains and awaken the people, but, if you make the effort to stay true to yourself and uphold your opinions, you will be doing more than the bulk of students, and, you may find that you can inspire another person to do the same. We all have the choice to do so. Charlotte Druckman is a sophomore English major from New York City. Putting It Bluntly will appear alternate Tuesdays.