I don't think that there is a single family unaffected by abortion, whether they know it or not. A horror this widespread needs a VERY big army, obviously. I really wanted to fight in some way. I didn't know how. I knew that I wasn't good or smart enough to do activism. I thought that I could stay in the background and somehow help, so I decided to start as most people start off. I went to see how Survivors ProLife Boot Camp would go. I didn't know how in the heck I would help, but I had a simple plan: hold a sign and watch the smart people be awesome.
It didn't exactly work out that way.
The first few days at camp were really fun. The lectures helped me to look at the anti-abortion movement/argument in a whole different way. One lecture included a video of abortion victims. I was used to seeing graphic images, but that video made me cry like someone was breaking my arm.
I thought that I was already burning to do something, but noooo way. That short clip lit the spark that would help me realize the fact that this is not about me and that I should get out there and if I mess everything up, (which I most certainly did) I need to pick myself up and roll with the punches. The spark wasn't exactly flaming yet, and I was still dreading the actual going out and talking to people, but I felt that at least if I messed up, I had people to back me up that wouldn't beat me up about it too much. I'd be able to try again, ask questions, get help, and learn from my mistakes.
When we did go out, I messed up, as expected. There wasn't a word or sound or anything that came out of my mouth that didn’t I wish I had said in a different way or didn't say at all. I needed to get out there again.
My "awakening" took about 3 days of mess-ups, but when it happened, it was obvious for me. I thought about the children who would be aborted if I sat on my duff like a wimp, too scared to do anything. I have to do better. My dignity depends on it. I won't be able to live with myself if I’m a coward. I was sick of letting myself be a slave to my trash.
Sure! The first time feels like a nightmare, but I swear that it pays off. At the end of camp, I had good conversations with people. There were some who I knew just didn't think about the "other side". The thought that it was murder dawned on their faces like they just realized that their nose is attached to their face. I was on a high. This was real. I was actually able to do something.
Think about that! A girl who couldn't talk to friends who she knew for years talking to people about abortion!!!!! And not just people! Complete STRANGERS!!!!!
About a month later, I went to an abortion center in Oakland, CA. When I went to a center during camp it luckily wasn't a busy day. But this was a different story. It was awful. I tried to focus on praying, but it seemed like such a normal place that I couldn't believe that people committed murder there!
Thankfully, the next part wasn't as bad. We moved on to Pier 39 in San Francisco. We set up fetal development signs, the police came, and we distributed pamphlets. The usual routine. I didn't usually pass out the literature; I only did it a couple times at camp. This time, I saw many, many women who wanted a pamphlet, but their boyfriends said no. I saw people chant that they support women and Planned Parenthood but freak out when I offered them our side. I talked to people who I know will look more into whether or not they have been told the truth. But what made me clench my fist the most were the many women crying.
For the first time in a while, I could feel that I was on the right side. I was doing something bigger than myself.
Just do it. That's pretty much the only thing I have to say that I learned from Survivors. If wimpy me could survive it, talk to people about abortion, and have fun, anyone can. And I mean ANYONE!!!
Editor's Note: We received this testimony from a 13-year-old who attended Survivors ProLife Training Camp 2014.