I wrote this article when I was in high school. It talks about my pro-life beliefs and how I learned to be brave enough to speak about abortion. It was published in American Life League’s youth magazine Voice for the Unborn. Unfortunately, this magazine only lasted a few issues.
NOTE: at the time of the article I was a devout Catholic. Today I am an atheist. But it talks a little bit about what I saw as my relationship with God and how I prayed about the issue.
The Guts to Speak Out by Sarah Terzo, Voice volume 1/issue three
It was my fourth week as a junior in a new high school. I had finally, after plenty of minor disasters, figured out how to open my locker, memorized my way around the building, and discovered that the school had no swimming pool or elevator (there are people who love to give new students some “help” when we asked questions.) Now my main concern was making friends, fitting in, and establishing a good reputation.
In my old school I had done some work on the school newspaper, and I decided to see if I could be part of the newspaper staff here too. I figured getting involved with activities would help me meet people.
“The newspaper,” Tara said, “is devoted mainly to political and social issues. We do a few articles on school sports and events, but we also include editorials and a big feature story every month which takes up most of the paper.”
That sounded different from my old high school paper. I went with Tara to the first meeting. There were a lot of people there, and I knew some of them from my classes. Matt, a guy I had noticed from gym class, was there. He smiled at me.
The editor-in-chief, a tall senior girl named Kelly, breezed in and the meeting started. We all sat around the table to discuss the next issue of the newspaper. I found an old copy of the newspaper and leafed through it. I was in for a surprise.
A large ad for Planned Parenthood was printed across from pro-choice editorial. The feature article was about student activism. It was devoted partially to a national student organization, to which I discovered many of the newspaper contributors belonged. The organization described itself as being “dedicated to human rights, including a woman’s right to have an abortion.”
“We’ve decided that this month’s feature article will be on homosexuality,” Kelly said, “and gay rights.”
Tara spoke up. “We have a good opportunity to promote equality and fairness. Everyone has a right to choose their own lifestyle. Problems start when small groups try to force their moral values on everyone.”
“Like with abortion,” someone else said. “Women have a right to reproductive freedom. It’s mostly all these Catholics and religious fanatics who want to take away that right.”
“What do you think?” Matt asked, looking straight at me.
I jumped. “Well, I…” I stammered. It felt like everyone was looking at me. “Should I tell these guys how I feel?” I wondered. “No way. I’m not taking them all on!”
“I think we should give out article assignments,” I said. A few people laughed. Tara smiled, and everyone started discussing school business. “Whew,” I thought. “Looks like I’ll have to avoid certain issues.” Inside a part of me felt bad for not saying anything, but I told myself I was just trying to fit in.
Surprisingly, the subject of abortion came up again the next day, among different people. This was right around the time a doctor botched an abortion in New York City. The eight-month-old “fetus” he’d been trying to kill was born with one arm. In my Spanish class, some kids were talking about it.
“I’ve always supported abortion,” one girl was saying. “I’m only 16. If I got pregnant now, I’d get one. I can’t drop out of school to support a baby. It’d ruin my life.”
“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. Most abortions happen when there’s just a ball of cells. That was an exception.”
Others joined in, giving their pro-abortion views.
Finally, I said, “I wouldn’t have an abortion. Abortion kills a baby, not a ball of cells.”
“I feel the same way,” someone said. “But everyone needs to be able to decide if abortion is right for them.”
I didn’t say anything else. No one was paying attention to me anyway. But all that day, I kept thinking about those two conversations. I thought about a book I had once read, called Abortion: the Silent Holocaust by John Powell. I knew that abortion is murder. The unborn child had a lot more to lose than I did. Then I remembered a statistic I had heard once, and pushed to the back of my mind because I didn’t want to think about it. Abortion kills 4000 children a day. [Editor’s note – this was written in 1992. The number is now closer to 3000 – the pro-life movement is winning] One every 20 seconds. More people had been killed by abortion than by the Nazis. If I had lived in Germany in the 1940s I would have been compelled to work against the Holocaust. Here, speaking out against evil could cost me a few friends. There, it might have cost me my life. I grabbed a piece of paper, and in the middle of chemistry class, I wrote a letter to the editor for the school paper. I would have until the end of the school day to turn it in.
But I chickened out. I got as far as the newspaper office, letter in hand. But I chickened out. I didn’t want everyone on my case, and I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I stuck the letter in my purse and went home.
When I checked the mail that night, I found my first issue of Voice [a pro-life teen magazine]. Talk about coincidence! I read it from cover to cover. As I read it I realized that not everyone agreed with the people at my school. There were teenagers like me who were against abortion. I got down on my knees and said a prayer.
“Lord,” I prayed, “Thank you for my life and all you have given me. Please fill me with your spirit and help me overcome my shyness. Father, please give me another chance to do something about abortion. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
The next day passed without incident, and until school ended. I went to a rehearsal for a play I was in. Rehearsal ended early. While waiting for my mom, I just sort of wandered into the newspaper’s office. Kelly was there.
“Could you please write us a letter to the editor?” Kelly asked. “We need another one and the paper has to go to print tonight.”
I almost died. I took out the wrinkled letter and handed it to her. Then I ran. My mom was waiting for me, anyway.
That weekend, I went to the library to do some research. When I was done, I felt confident enough to discuss the issue with anyone who questioned me about the letter.
I was very nervous when the newspaper was distributed week later. At first, few people said anything to my face. In one of my classes, a girl loudly disagreed with me, but she refused to listen to any of my facts. Mainly, I was concerned with how Matt, Tara, and the others would react. Tara didn’t say anything at all to me that day. In fact, from then on, she was not as friendly as before. Matt told me he disagreed with my letter.
“But I still think it’s pretty cool you wrote it. Some of those girls never had anyone stand up to them before.”
Some of my liberal “friends” drifted away, but many seemed willing to accept the fact that I had a different opinion.
Since writing the letter, I have become more active in the pro-life movement. I’ve received information from Human Life International and have been raising money for a local crisis pregnancy center which provides information and intervention for women considering abortion. It has been a month since I decided to speak up for the voiceless victims of abortion, and I’ve not regretted it for one moment.
Still, it is upsetting when people don’t see. How can anyone look at a picture of an unborn baby, complete with little fingers and toes, and not see human life? I asked God these questions one night, in the quiet of my room. He did not give me a direct answer. But He turned my thoughts to Jesus’s life on earth. I thought of how Jesus must’ve felt when he performed miracles for people and they still did not believe in him. I thought of the apostles, trying to spread the message of salvation through Christ. So many refused to listen. At that moment, I felt very close to God and very happy. There was a sense of deep peace and joy which I knew nothing in this world could ever touch. In doing God’s work, I have become closer to him. My relationship with God has not always been perfect since then, but it is been better.
Now there is talk of Roe versus Wade being overturned, and abortion promises to be a big issue in the election and, therefore, will be discussed in our everyday lives. I am equipped as never before, with information. This is the end of my story. It’s been very “everyday” and non-heroic. But there are simple, daily victories to be one also in this battle for life. As the new generation, our job should be to spread information to other future American leaders. For me, the story is just beginning.
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