Abortion, actually.

Yep, you read that right. This week, we're talking about abortion.

A few weeks ago, Papa Francesco had this to say about abortion and the Catholic church. Much of it wrong.

Last week, the #GOPdebate had a lot to say about abortion. Much of it wrong.

I'm tired.

I am 27 years old, and for my entire life, the Roe v. Wade decision has been the law of the land. I am only 27 years old, and I am already tired of fighting against those who have spent my entire life (as well as the decade before my birth) trying to undo the protections that decision provides.

I'm tired of the terms "pro-life" and "pro-choice" as the only options. I'm tired of feigning apology for where I stand. I'm tired of resorting to compromise for the case of rape, incest, or the dubious phrase "threat to the life of the mother." Who determines what is and is not threatening to our lives?

I'm tired of men who have systematically threatened, oppressed, and injured women (for decades, centuries, millennia) through legislation, regulation, and theology.

Papa Francesco has been such a breath of fresh air in the ecumenical community on so many issues, and I'm so disappointed that he has reminded me of his Catholicism so harshly with this announcement.

Holy Father, women who have had abortions do not need your forgiveness. Declaring the upcoming church year a "Year of Mercy" is laughable. What year is not a year of mercy, in your line of work? How embarrassing.

And as far as the Republican candidates...boy, am I tired. During the debate on Wednesday I was in tears just from the premise that one of these people could be the President of the United States. These men bragged--honestly, bragged!--about how many years their states have gone without providing funding to Planned Parenthood, and probably other important healthcare providers in the process.

They--and the one woman on the stage, too--grossly (and grotesquely) misrepresented the struggle for reproductive freedom in this country. They--particularly the one woman on the stage--grossly (and grotesquely) misrepresented Planned Parenthood.

Here's the thing. I stand with Planned Parenthood. You may, also. I think I know what you mean when you say that, but in case you don't know what I mean when I say that, here's what I mean.

Women should have safe access to the health care that we need.
Women should have safe access to preventive care.
Women should have safe access to contraception, free of charge.
Men should have safe access to contraception, free of charge.
Women should have safe access to abortion on demand.

That's right. Planned Parenthood does so much for the people, y'all. They can be your primary care provider, and so many women I know rely on them for excellent care. Every Planned Parenthood employee or volunteer I have ever encountered has been professional and kind. They do an enormous amount of work, because millions of women in this country do not have safe access to the health care they need--or to enough of it. But even if PP didn't do all that other stuff--cancer screenings, annual exams, STD screenings, sex education, the list goes on!--I would stand with them. Even if Planned Parenthood was first and foremost an abortion provider, I would stand with them. 

I stand with every woman who is considering, has considered, will consider, is choosing, has chosen, or will choose abortion.

Not in spite of my education, not in spite of my Christianity but--straight up--because of those privileges and commitments, I stand with women. I stand with Planned Parenthood.

As my main man Martin Luther is famously quoted as saying: Here I stand, I can do no other. God help me.

Something something bucket pun.

There are a variety of opinions on the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.

A lot of the opinions on the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge make me want to roll my eyes forever. "Dumping water over your head doesn't cure ALS" or "You should do the ice water AND give money" or "[Insert personal fundraising cause] is just as important as ALS" or "People with ALS think the ice bucket challenge is _____" -- the list could literally go on forever because this is a very populous nation.

But the opinion that I am finding the dumbest is the one that insists that Californians should not participate in the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge because we are in a terrible drought.

This is a terrible opinion to have. It is true that there are many uses for water other than dumping over your head. It is true that we do not have any excess water in the great state of California. HOWEVER, it is this kind of reasoning about water use in California that keeps us in such dire straits whenever drought conditions worsen. If you're under the impression that the volume of water being used in this challenge is remotely close to the amount of water needed to hydrate California, you are kidding yourself.

The volume of water being "wasted" via the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge is a drop in the bucket when it comes to California's water usage. I know you know how to Google, but if you're looking for numbers and maps about the drought, visit the State's website on the subject for details. If you really want to conserve water in California, you can follow their tips for reduction in your home and business. Really, though, you should be writing your representatives about reducing agricultural water use in our great state. That's where the waste is happening. Not in ALS fundraising.

Did you know that because of this meme, the ALS Association has raised 13.3 million dollars this summer, as opposed to their usual 1.7? Check it out. The number of individuals, families, and communities whose lives have been forever changed by ALS diagnoses will now be forever changed by the boost in research, equipment, and care that these dollars will supply.

So if you're an ALS Ice Bucket Challenge environmental naysayer, please send some money to the ALS fund of your choice; write your representatives about water use; eat less beef; buy local produce; replace all your grass with native, low-water-use plants; replace your toilets with low-flow models; reduce your shower time; get off your high horse.

[In case you're curious, I was challenged by my dear friend Jocelyn--I chose to forgo the ice water not because I'm a Californian but because I'm a wuss. Donating to fight a disease that has claimed the lives and livelihoods of people I love was fine by me.]

#YesAllWomen

I've been a little busy (you know, graduating from seminary) and so I haven't been here, addressing all the things that have caught my attention in the last few months. My newfound freedom (this week has already been sprinkled with "what now?" and "I think I'm bored" more than once) allows for some words on #YesAllWomen, and what that has to do with me.

I've been mulling over just how I want to talk about it, and a lot of that has to do with how everyone else has chosen to talk about it. If you've been on the internet in the last week, you've seen a lot more think pieces about misogyny than you're used to (unless you're me and you follow feminist writers who rarely put down the subject). You've seen the responses from men and women in support and in opposition. I don't really want to give you the scoop on who thought it was great and who thought it was stupid--you have the rest of the internet for that information. What I want to tell you is how I experienced it. Because this is my blog and that's what I do here.

On Saturday night (5/24) I crawled into bed after a wonderfully busy day of graduating and celebrating. I checked Facebook and Instagram to like some more of my classmates' pictures, and then perused twitter to see what had gone on that day, since I'd been largely absent. My feed was full of tweets and retweets tagged #YesAllWomen, sharing stories of harassment and trauma and the added terror of never being heard.

Women empowered each other to tell the world just what it is that we suffer day in and day out. We talked about everyday street harassment: catcalls, demands for smiles, lewd gestures, being followed, additional harassment for refusing advances. We talked about bars: unwanted chatter, drinks that demand something in return, being anonymously groped, additional harassment for refusing advances. We talked about dates: fear of the semi-stranger we'd agreed to meet, escape plans, "got home safe" text messages.

We talked about things like the number of men who hadn't called us for a third date after we'd said "no" to sex on the second. We talked about male friends who regularly use "rape" in sentences that are not about rape. We talked about male friends who think catcalls are compliments. We talked about talking to our friends and partners about our experiences, and about their less-than-thoughtful responses. We talked about how we hadn't necessarily thought about all of these things as misogyny before, but recognized the implications that our bodies were something to which those men felt entitled, and their ability to brush off our worst fears.

In addition, of course, to talking about all of our fears, we talked about why we have these fears in the first place. We talked about stranger rape, and date rape, and partner rape. We talked about intimate partner violence of all kinds. We talked about being attacked on the street and having onlookers literally look on. We talked about stalkers and about police departments who couldn't help until there was a crime committed.

The point is that we talked. We learned more about each other, we learned more about our common lives, we learned more about how to talk to children and adults about the realities of violence. I learned about how common my experiences (and the experiences of my friends) have been. It's hard to explain how gross it feels to feel lucky that I have never been raped. It's a little bit grosser to debate with myself about putting a "yet" in that sentence.

If you're male, think about the ways in which your behavior could be perceived as scary to women. If you can't think of any examples, ask a female friend or your female partner, if you have one. She may love you, but she can probably think of one. And when she next tells you about the harassment she received on her way to your house, worry about that. And when you're next with your male friends and one of them says or does something you think even borders on sexism or misogyny or harassment, say so. That's what it takes.

If you haven't spent time in the #YesAllWomen hashtag, mosey on over and read for yourself what's up. Think about the ways in which you interact with your fellow humans. I know, right? That's really all I'm asking.