Attack of the Pro-Lifers

Oh what a beautiful morning on the hill it was. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the gentle morning breezxe brought out the best of spring. The day being as lovely as it was and my having a comparatively light schedule, I came into my theatre history class in rather high spirits. All of this came crashing down as I casually gazed out the window and saw ABORTED FETUSES. And I don't mean scrambled eggs. Mounted in the area directly outside the main entrance to Tucker Hall was a huge display (it probably could've spanned more than two billboards) comprised of aborted fetuses, holocaust survivors (from like the day the Allies came), and Cambodian refugees. It was disgusting. I nearly vomited my breakfast burrito and I'm positive that whatever I may have regurgitated would've been more appetizing to every sense than those images. There were signs that said things like "genocide" and "the insanity of choice" and, given their heavy-handed language,I was torn with regards to whether I was more appalled by the images pr the captions that accompanied them.
As a person who believes all human life is sacred and that no person should claim the right to terminate another life, as a young female who is infuriated by stupid girls who choose to "take care of" the products of their own mistakes, as a human who has serious concerns about the potential of the innovations of science and technology to curb the sense of morality that is essential for asociety to function well, I was offended; not only by the fact that they had their display in my face, but that they chose this incredible impoasition as a means to getting their point across. In the political world, there's a bold and firm line between "pro-choice" and "pro-life" as if the two are mutually exclusive and generally inclusive in a manner that necessitates a degree of extremism which forces centrists to reconsider their positions. Based simply on the fact that they called themselves por-life, the women out there handing out pamphlets should be on my side. But they couldn't possible be on my side and choose to do something that hurt me. It hurt me to see those images of of little baby hands and feet in pieces on some table wrapped around a quarter or little baby eyes staring pleadingly up at me as if they were aware of some culpability that I held. It hurt me to read those captions accusing me of duplicity in genocide and associating women who get abortions with Nazis. Te mere presence of this display hurt me. There was nothing I saw that could be unseen and even with my most concerted effort not to look, I couldn't escape the atrocity of what I knew was right there. And what hurt me most of all (because it deepens the pain of every other hurt) was that these people who had inflicted so much pain claimed to be the good guys.
When I, along with a couple of friends who were similarly affected after seeing what I had seen, went out to let them know what kind of effect they were having on three pro-life people, the apathy that I got from the girl to whom I spoke was at once shocking and infuriating. There were horror movies that depicted much more gruesome graphics, she opined and there weren't doing anything but showing he truth. In response to my expressing how offensive and disturbing I found the images, she defended having them out for the public to see by asserting that "it wouldn't be right to hide them and pointing out that there were signs on the way to the hall warning what was ahead. We stayed out there with them a good ten minutes speaking into deaf ears and listening to hard hearts about how good a cause it was to stop abortion by showing people the horrors of what it entailed and in all that time, this group who had invaded our campus paid no heed to the horrors that they themselves had inflicted. They gave no regard to the fact that I hadn't recieved any type of warning from inside my classroom where I couldn't help but see those displays outside our huge windows. They didn't even care when I told them how deeply affected I was by all of the sensations that had been inflicted by them; the people who were supposed to be on my side. I walked away even more appalled than when I first saw their images splattered outside my hall.
I left having accepted that I wouldn't be able to make them understand, but it doesn't follow that I was able to let the matter drop. How could I, when they brought a plane with a banner to circle over our heads the rest of the day, in case we decided to avoid the entrance to Tucker Hall, but were more inclined to glance up at the buzzing over our heads. I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen and what they had said and as the passing of those ten minutes went through my mind over and over again, my horror at their apathy manifested itself in a deepseated sense of betrayal. How is it that this group, this project, saw fit to display victims of the most vulnerable lot without regard to what horrors they were inflicting on us? Who posted these pictures, saw them mounted onto huge easles and was able to stomache seeing half-dead men stacked together in disgusting barracks without the presence of mind to care that they were being photographed in this condition and having the little eyes of aborted fetuses staring up at them without dying a little inside? What is accomplished by exposing us, the students to the same atrocities that have apparently made these people apathetic enough that they have no problem standing proudly with such a monstrosity behind them? They claim to be advocating for these victims, but they give them no respect; no dignity. They parade these images around like animation in a slide show and expect something positive to come of it? The fact stands that, after the initial shock and the attempt not to lose one's breakfast or lunch, one's most likely reaction is to be repulsed by what he sees. What else can we feel when faced with something so repulsive? These ideas swam around in my head from the moment I was back in my classroom trying my best to concentrate but unable to find any mental solace from what I'd just witnessed.
It pains me to call myself pro-life when I know that these people lay a claim on the term as well. I sincerely hope that I am not one of them.