Floating in the Sea of Humanity: My Reflections on the March for Life 2015
Lori Peters
Being involved in pro-life work can be a tiring and frustrating experience, but I am always uplifted and rejuvenated after attending the annual March For Life in Washington, D.C. It’s almost like a belated Christmas gift to those working weary in the trenches who fight every dayfor the unborn, the dying, the discarded and the disabled. Although we are there to remember the dead and protest how they died, we receive the precious gift of being surrounded by like-minded people. How fitting that this year’s theme also had a gift reference – “Every life is a gift.”
My energy level starts to rise significantly the week of the march, and by event day, my adrenalin is pumping non-stop. I thrive off the warm, positive, and enthusiastic vibes of
everyone surrounding me, especially the youth. It truly is so heartwarming to see so many young people, mostly under the age of 25, care about something so vital to the preservation of our society. Their passion is contagious and is just the new blood this war-weary soldier needs to continue the fight at the local crisis pregnancy center I run. It gives me hope this war can be won.
This year, my usual trip took a different route as two of my children and I decided to attend the march with a new group of people instead of those from our home parish. One of the main reasons we decided to switch was a planned stop for mass at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, the largest Catholic Church in the Americas. I had been to the basilica before, but never for mass. We and 4,000 others packed into the Upper Church and participated in the service, concelebrated by Archbishop Charles Chaput and about 20 priests. In his homily, Archbishop Chaput made a point to thank the pro-life pilgrims for their sacrifice, noting that they were going to “transform the face of the world” by their powerful witness for life. What a beautiful way to start the day!
As mass ran long and we had to have lunch, we missed most of the rally, but no matter. As we entered Constitution Avenue, the excitement was palpable. Although we were there to protest a death of this sort – abortion – we saw people giddy with life. I started smiling as I heard the cute and catchy chants of the kids as they toted signs. “We love babies, yes we do. We love babies, how ‘bout you?” “Hey, hey, ho, ho! Roe v Wade has got to go!” “Obama, Obama, your mama chose life!” The signs they carried were equally charming and clever, but I resonated the most with this one: “I Am the Pro-Life Generation!” Yes, I must agree. If anyone can put a stop to abortion, it is these wonderfully smart, passionate and caring kids.
With minutes to go before the march kicked off, our group found the Diocese of Harrisburg contingent headed by Bishop Ronald Gainer. We planned to march behind the diocesan banner. After nearly a half-hour to 45-minute wait, on a sunny and unusually warm January day, 600,000 people flooded the streets, chanting, singing, laughing, praying, waving signs, holding hands, pushing wheelchairs and strollers, carrying kids, and walking arm-in-arm all for the cause of life. I locked arms with my daughters as we tried to stay with the group. As we neared the hill that leads to the U.S. Supreme Court building, my younger daughter and I had gotten separated from the group, which was not surprising. It’s difficult to stay together when there are so many people packed in like sardines. However, I wasn’t worried as I knew my older daughter was still with the group and it would be fairly easy to locate them, thanks to cell phones and the magic of texting.
As we started to crest the hill, I suddenly got Goosebumps. I was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers in front of me and behind me and I almost felt like skipping because I was so energized. My daughter’s probable embarrassment prevented me from doing that though. Instead, I squeezed my 15-year-old’s arm and asked her if she felt as exhilarated as I did. What a rush to be surrounded by hordes and hordes of people who believed in the sanctity of life as strongly as we did! She didn’t respond so much with a comment but did ask questions that led me to believe the day was affecting her just as strongly. My 17-year-old daughter told me later that what almost brought her to tears was the pictures of dismembered babies displayed along the march route. She said if more people saw pictures like that, they would think twice about abortion.
So, as we had a little bit of time to spare before we had to rendezvous with our group, we decided to venture to the Supreme Court to hear the testimonies of people who have had abortions or have been involved in abortion decisions. This part of the March is coordinated by Silent No More Awareness Campaign, a national effort to share information about the physical, mental and emotional toll abortion takes on men, women and families. Hearing the testimonies is something I had never done because the crowd there is more overwhelming than that encountered during the march. This is not the place to be for anyone with claustrophobic or anxiety issues. But, this year, I decided to go because there was one testimony I wanted to hear.
We found a small section to watch, or at least listen. Several rows of people were ahead of us, so we didn’t actually see anyone speak, but we could hear well enough. A woman talked about her abortion and how much she regretted it. You could hear the raw pain in her voice and as she cried near the end of her talk, I almost cried too. A man spoke about lost fatherhood after his partner had an abortion. His voice was crackly too as he talked about regret and lost opportunities. I was reminded how, so many times, the man’s perspective is lost when it comes to talking about abortion. For every woman who’s had an abortion, there is a man suffering right along with her, whether he realizes it or not. No one leaves the situation unscathed. I don’t care how much they tell you otherwise. I’ve had enough experience helping post-abortive women to know that much is true.
As we listened, we watched the sea of humanity flowing in front of us. We were perched a little bit off the ground, so we had a good view of the marchers who had been behind us now walking in front of the courthouse. They kept coming with no end in sight. We joked that we could probably body surf on them and not fall to the ground. How was it that the mainstream media was not here??? The largest human rights protest in the world was not being covered. It just boggled my mind.
Right before we left, a former abortionist took the microphone. This was the one testimony I had been really anxious to hear as I had read on the Silent No More website that the doctor would be talking as part of the campaign’s new initiative to reach out to abortion providers. Imagine my disappointment then when, just as he started to speak, I realized it was time to leave! Darn those time constraints! So, a little disappointed, I led my daughter through the crowds and we walked to Union Station to meet our group.
On the bus ride home, I learned via a Facebook news post why the march had a delayed start. A group of pro-choicers stood in the street blocking the marchers. After several tense moments and a complete communication signal blackout by the D.C. Police, numerous pro-choicers were arrested and the walk continued as planned. Not surprisingly, that part was actually covered by some news outlets because it made for a juicy story. I am thankful no pro-lifers were arrested because the mostly pro-choice media crowd would’ve had a field day with that.
We arrived home exhausted after experiencing a whirlwind of so many emotions. It is sad that we are still marching after 42 years, but until abortion is eradicated, we will march on because we can and they – the vulnerable unborn - can’t.
For additional writing from members and associates of the St. Gabriel Respect Life group, see below:
https://stgabrielcarlisle.squarespace.com/our-pro-life-views-1/