Thirteen Loyola students, representing Loyola Life, journeyed to the 32nd Annual March for Life so that we could stand in place of all those humans that could not be there to stand for themselves. We traveled to relate to our country and to our fellow citizens that on Jan. 22, 1973, the Supreme Court made a mistake.
We knew that this trip would be like no other. We walked out of Union Station, making our way straight for Gonzaga College High School, where we would be spending our evenings.
When we finally arrived at the high school, we decided that the term “southern hospitality” needed to be altered to “Jesuit hospitality.” In our second year staying there, Gonzaga once again provided us with a floor to sleep on, an alumni party with shrimp and, of course, a key to move in and out whenever we pleased. The Jesuits we met there the last two years have welcomed us with open arms.
That weekend, we attended the American Collegiates for Life Conference. One student said he did not expect to be attending the pro-life conference for college students. The conference consisted of two days of brilliant speakers, excellent workshops and vibes of solidarity that remain to the present.
On Monday, the March of Life began. The first 50 yards of the procession were comprised of around 100 women from the Silent No More Awareness Campaign, all holding signs that read “I Regret My Abortion” or “My Abortion Hurt Me.”
Together with over 100,000 other witnesses to the travesty, prayers in our hearts and the 45 million lost since 1973 in our minds, we walked from the White House all the way past the Capitol, ending at the foot of the Supreme Court. We were able to work our way to the barricades and stand 10 yards from the police officers guarding the steps of the Supreme Court.
But how ironic it was that the police officers were there, protecting against a peaceful march, when it is violence that we are protesting.
Yes, minorities in the movement have resorted to abominable violence, but the overwhelming majority calls for non-violence and seeks an escape from the destruction of our generation.
We trudged through the snow to head home. However, still in our minds sounded the various mottos heard all weekend. “Women deserve better than abortion,” “Open the casket,” “I had an abortion … They hurt ME,” “Truth conquers all” and “What are you going to do to help?”
At the Holocaust Museum, I wondered, “Would I ever return to D.C., not to protest, but to visit the National American Holocaust Museum? Would I ever see our country commemorate all those lost to the injustice of abortion, as we do to all those lost 60 years ago in Europe?” I hope so.
