Kitty Litter tells the tale of why we can't be choosy with our vote in November. If I read/pay attention to nothing else, my vote is decided, even though it was already a foregone conclusion.
You know in 1997-8 it really wasn't much better. Sure there was a real women's clinic to go to, but there were picketers outside to be reckoned with. One of my coworkers was in need of services. She was 35, divorced, had a 7 yr old consciously-decided-upon only child. She was on birth control *and* used condoms religiously with her soon to be second husband.
The ordeal of making an appointment. The ordeal of the picketers. It fostered in me a sense that there is still so much work to be done. That my friend had no one else she could turn to or trust with her choice was beside the point. I think this was truly a lesson for me in not judging others, because there were judgements flying toward her from every other angle, no matter where I looked. It was definitely a few of the worst hours of my life, and I was just there for support and involved in such a periferal way. How do we advocate change? For now, telling these stories as a reminder of the progress we have made might have to do.