While covering the circus outside the Supreme Court's PPACA hearings yesterday, I noticed a group of about seven people standing quietly at the bottom of the court steps. They all had tape over their mouths, and a couple were reading the Bible.
I stopped to talk to them, and it turned out they were pro-life protestors. Their organization has been setting up camp at the Supreme Court daily, for the last 7 years, to demonstrate against abortions. The protestors are made up of volunteers who fly in every so often, from places as far away as South Dakota, to put in a few days for their cause.
I won't go into my reasons, because that's not exactly the point of today's blog, but I am ardently pro-choice. I oppose just about everything this anti-abortion group stands for. But we spoke politely about it for a few minutes, and I walked away feeling something I didn't expect to for those protestors: admiration.
In fact, I've felt that way throughout the PPACA hearings and demonstrations here in Washington, D.C., this week. People on all sides of the debate have stepped up to voice their opinions and defend their beliefs, and though I don't agree with all of them, it's hard to find fault in their actions. They're busy exercising a basic right that many of us have mothballed.
I can't tell you where most of my friends stand on PPACA. I've never asked. Even though it's an issue that will affect every single person in the United States, we never talk about it, because it's not considered polite or politically correct. (Also, it's not as much fun as talking about, for instance, Snooki being pregnant.) And I doubt we're in the minority.
