At just 5 years old, she cried every single morning as her mother struggled to unwind the child’s arms from her body. She begged and pleaded, knots in her little throat, “don’t leave me mommy.” She couldn’t understand what was happening, not the first time in her life she was being dropped off somewhere, but this was everyday -for days on end. The teacher was nice enough, a heavier set woman with longish brown hair and a niceish smile. She had kindish eyes, but still the child suspected another adult enemy.
Whenever her mother left her somewhere something horrific happened to her. Adults did all manner of things; pretended they were going to burn her arms with their cigarettes and laughed when she cried from fear. One man delighted in making her squirm while he put pins in his fingers, then he would make her take off her clothes. She never remembered her mother returning- always leaving her places. Perpetually leaving.
In this particular place- kindergarten they called it -she had to sit on carpet squares and not talk, not even to her best friend Owen. She wasn’t supposed to move, but had the hardest time being still enough. She could play with toys only when told and then read books only when allowed- never before, never after. She had to wait to eat and ask to use the bathroom. The very worst part was every morning she was sent to sit with the principal in his office. It stunk of moldy things, paper and cleaning chemicals. That good ‘ol administrative odor. He ignored her unless he looked down his nose at her, but everyone else acted as if she was to be punished severely for what she had done. Well, what she refused to do. She knew by this daily punishment it was deemed “the most horrible thing”, but she couldn’t understand why.
Every single morning, no matter what, she simply failed to bring herself to do it. She looked around the room in horror as every other child, hand on chest, robotically recited some inane words that made no sense, to a flag on the wall. She felt hot with embarrasment talking like that, staring like that. She felt a strange eeriness that scared her and gave her rumbles in her tummy. It was the same way she felt around those adults her mom left her with- not safe. So she wouldn’t do it. When she asked why she had to, they refused to answer. The battle lasted a whole year, refusal, adult reaction, principal’s office. 1st grade proved a bit more friendly. No inanimate object to profess one’s undying loyalty to at 7am.
That child and her questions have pissed off adults ever since. In church at 13, she asked if what they said was true - God is in her heart, then why did she need a middleman? Church is useless. The mother was asked not to bring her back. Fuck Mormons anyway. In high school algebra, she argued that no one is going to use algebra on a daily basis in real life and if they do, please share which career paths they are so she could avoid them. Presumably she passed that class but only because the teacher hated the questions. In college genetics, when not one person could understand why the Harvard professor thought it sufficient to waste everyone’s time by reading the textbook instead of helping the class interpret it, she was the only one that voiced it and was then promptly kicked out of the class. Apparently, adults are weak minded people with no backbone or integrity. They can’t actually define the logical reasons for doing the things they do and yet they have the audacity to treat minors like the imbecilic bastards.
She was me. I am her, that kid with all the questions. I didn’t ask them out of spite, in a tone or because I already thought I knew something. That, however, seemed to be the premise behind every adult reaction.
Well, I have another question. This one is for the Pro-Lifers. I am just curous- do you only care about life when it’s a zygote? You are pro-life when it’s an embryo and a fetus, but when the child is breathing oxygen, then what? That life you say you protect from your magic moral compass is only to justify all of your hyperobsessed control freakism? Because pro-life sentiment seems to stop in the birthing room.
What about the mother? Her body, her health, her support system? What happens when she suffers so deeply she can’t care for the child’s ability to thrive? Who protects that life then; from the pedophiles, predators and pastors?
I am just curious, is life only worth protecting unless food stamps or welfare or melanin is involved? If the mother is poor, raped, beaten, ill or abandoned by her husband then, what? And so what if she is a whore, but save the unformed cluster of cells in her womb at all costs? What if your same pro-life proselytizing has blocked access to contraceptives and she has children already, or gets pregnant with a ‘child’ that will be born without the ability to move, speak or breathe on their own? Is that… a life?
If you are pro-life, then protect it with the same blind fervor you have for serving it’s vocabulary. Protect it by castrating pedophiles and demonstrate real consequence for actions that mame and destroy life. Protect it by refusing to pay taxes that slaughter children in a genocide perpetuated by your government. Protect that life, Pro-Lifer, by speaking out against the rape and molestation that occurs in your God’s name.
Those white coats, like the American doctors that travel to developing nations to exlpoit children as little as 5 years old should be the first ones hanging from the trees. Which white coats/robes you ask? Well, pick one- they are kind of all the same are they not? Chewing up life where it is found and sucking the joy from the bones of the living. They pick their teeth with your vote and chuckle to themselves that you run around in a sweat fighting for a cause that has nothing at all to do with life or its preservation. Men that leave women battered, that abuse mothers relentlessy breaking her spirit so she can’t be the mother that protects the life she gave birth to, men that refuse to be responsible for their ejaculations are just allowed to stomp around and get away with their every little bitch boy tantrum? Where’s the pro-life rhetoric now? It’s lost on you in this moment? Cognitive dissonance much?
It’s as logical as algebra, am I right? As simple as genetics. As mentally ill as speaking to a fucking flag hanging on the wall. I was 5 years old and I knew it was mind control. At least I wasn’t sold into sex trafficking (to a country that is the largest consumer of sex with children, ahem, America) by my mother because she couldn’t afford to feed me after she had me. At least I wasn’t tied to a bed and raped by grown American men/doctors/fathers/pastors/police officers for 12 hours straight until I died.
Too traumatizing for you? I should have given you and your snow powdered flakers a trigger warning. What about that life though? Someone- and by that I mean A CHILD ALREADY ALIVE is living it right this minute. And NO ONE is there to protect that child. NO ONE is holding a sign, blocking a door, screaming in the faces of the right people to put an end to the slaughter of souls. Definitely not you, Pro-Lifer. Where are you now?
Don’t have an answer? Pro life only when its pretty, when it serves your moral high ground, your ability to appear conscious? Pro life because of God? Forgive me for not buying into the rhetoric that some sky daddy with pale skin, blue eyes (am I right?) and a…. wait for it… A white fucking cloak -decides who lives, who burns and who is worthy of virgins in heaven. Pro-life for a cluster of cells at the expense of literally everyone else. Excuse me for confusing the mentally deranged versions of your religions.
Also, while I am at it: ICE- unrelated, but close to this bone- where are all the women and children and their right to life? Too brown to have protections?
Pro-Lifer, nothing to say?
Well, that’s about right. Isn’t it? There are no wrong questions, but your inability to answer them says everything.