Arguments Against Abortioners

Pro-choice people are all about choices the more the merrier but in the end of the decision we want the choice to be made by the mother and no one else. Pro-life people talks all about life and only life but are they really for life when that also agree that rape, victim of incest and if a woman’s life was at risk abortion is doable. Not to mention not all pro-life feels the same way even when they’re on the same side. Yes pro-life do think more about the viable fetus rights other than the mothers but that does not mean pro-choice does not think about the viable fetus at all. Pro-choice wants the child to be welcomed into warm opened arms instead of a hard brutal world depending on the mother’s situation. Such as if the mother had no one to turn to and was out in the street and could barely provide for herself.

In 1973 the Supreme Court made it legal to get abortions done by a well-trained professional in any state. Before this time many states had laws that made abortions legal if and only if it was to save the women’s life. As a result of this ruling in 1973 Pro-life supports began taking up arms against abortion. Within a short time most states had statewide organizations protesting against abortion.

Abortion has been a controversial topic and fluctuated in-and-out of political discussions for decades, but has started to become a more popular debate topic as of late. People have debated between “Pro-Choice”, a woman’s right to choose, as well as “Pro-Life”, strictly anti-abortion, as well as the lawmakers part in recognizing the issue. A Harvard College newspaper printed an opinion-based article by Tanya Luhrmann for Abortion Rights Action Week called, The Pro-Choice Argument. The author claims that a powerful part of American life is the experience of being a mother, and that each side, “Pro-Choice” and “Pro-Life”, feels attacked from one another affecting the mother and child relationship.

This text describes how the mother was worried about Denise’s safety, so she sends her off to church. Little does she know, she had just put her daughter in even more danger than she could ever imagine. On that day in 1963, four little girls would die in a church bombing; Denise being one of them. The irony of this is that Denise’s mother wanted her to be safe and go to church instead of being in the march, but when she went to church, Denise was killed.

A young man stands in the streets of Baton Rouge, Louisiana with a message to be heard. His mouth spreads wide forcing his tapered fade to the back of his hairline. His entire face is tight with passion, displaying the protruding veins of his neck and widen nostrils of his large, round nose. A small diamond stud pierces his ears, as he pierces the ears of others. Adorned in distressed, acid washed denim held up with a black leather belt just below his waist, he spreads his arms past his chest. His tattooed forearms stretched apart as if he is crucifying himself. A bright red polo falls down the young man’s slim, scrawny body, as his collar slightly flips up. The hue of the shirt, and the bandana clutched within his fist, screams almost as loud

In this apparently simple short story a reader may encounter issues of helpless frus-tration, differences of gender in language, and miscommunication (Smiley 1988: 2). Alt-hough it may seem to be more suitable to put the analysis of the theme of collapsing com-munication in the first chapter of this dissertation, I would like to pay greater attention to the issue of imminent loss, the suffering it will bring, and emptiness and nothingness which define the female protagonist of “Hills Like White Elephants.” The veiled, yet focal point of the short story is woman's pregnancy and uncertainty about the abortion. The man tries to convince the woman that after the operation things will change and everything will be alright; that it will bring them happiness they have

The parking lot was covered with puddles from the lingering rain drops and the smell of wet concrete was dominant in the outside aroma as both Rhonda and her husband came near the entrance of the white colored hospital with countless amounts of square windows. After the quick thirty second walk to the hospital from their car passing many evergreen colored trees, Rhonda and her husband approached the main hospital sliding doors which swished open as they came near letting all of the chilled Seattle air flood lobby. After the hospital doors closed shut, Rhonda released her grip from her husband’s hand and wobbled over to the check-in desk where they both were greeted by a female receptionist in her mid-thirties with long brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail with deep brown eyes. “Hello! How may I help you today?”, the nurse asked in an upbeat manner. “Hi! My name is Rhonda Crane and I am here to check into my appointment with Dr.Harvey at 9 o’clock who will be delivering my baby. I received a phone call from the nurse this morning and she told me that Dr.Harvey requested that I come in today to have my baby

A chestnut lectern stood proudly in its centre. Red, white, and blue banners adorned the backdrop and covered the scaffolding. The villagers gathered expectantly on the dusty common, chattering amongst themselves excitedly. Many held flags and placards. Some had even dug out the old 'Make America Great Again' campaign signs from five years ago. Suddenly, a black, armoured limousine pulled up behind the stage. A hush fell gradually over the townspeople like a wave, rolling from one side to the other. A door slammed shut. Heavy footsteps were heard on the steps before a gaggle of bodies made its way to the lectern. The crowd erupted as an orange man stepped forward, his small hand in the air. The ferret on his head was tousled in the light breeze. As he cast his gaze over his people, his perpetual pout gave way to a warming smile. But his eyes did

So strong is her resentment and new understanding that the mother embraces the movement to the point of wanting to be arrested as well. There is a moment when she, in her mournful, but enlightened state, seems to hallucinate about the gendarmes. “It seemed to her that she almost heard the jingling of their spurs” (pg. 75). The mother has despite the circumstances come to understand herself as an individual in her son’s movement, not just his mother and supporter. The gendarmes she now imagines as coming not only for her son but also for her. In the end the mother has completely moved on from her previous life. Now she understands and as a result wishes that “they had taken [her], too!” (pg. 75) as she is also in the movement that they so desperately want to end.

For eight months she’s known this day would come. At first she had only a queasy stomach to remind her of what she bore. Then, when denial became impossible, her brooding father and tearful mother were a daily reminder. As her belly swelled, so did her fear for this day. Not for the birth itself, but for the moment her baby will be taken away and given to another family to be raised as part of it.

The right to life is the most basic and important right that we have. In the past two hundred years, over one million Americans have died for their country. Monuments have been built and speeches have been delivered, honoring these American heroes. America is now engaged in a war where there are no heroes, no monuments or tributes - only victims. Our society has declared war on its most helpless members - our unborn children. Since that war was declared on January 22, 1973, there have been over 35 million deaths.

Does a women’s right to choose to have an abortion outweigh a baby’s right to be born? The controversy at hand is whether the rights of a women outweigh the rights of a baby, and whether a mother should be given the rights to pursue a procedure like an abortion. To clarify an abortion is a medical procedure that ends a pregnancy in which a doctor uses a vacuum and suction to suck out a fetus from the uterus. The issue is whether the fetus who has the potential to be a rational, productive human being has the unequivocal rights of any other human being and whether he or she should be protected from, in every sense of the word, murder. The argument made by abortionfacts.com a nonprofit Christian pro-life education organization, is that

The masses swallow me up as I weave past. Journalists and university students linger, the latter hesitating at the back of the crowd before they continue to Redfern train station. The journalists shoot knowing looks to one another and take photos of the looming, fluorescent bulldozers which impatiently surround the scattered tents, illuminated intermittently by the harsh blue and red lights that flash and whirl atop the white cars. Further into the crowd, light blue uniforms line up around the perimeter of 'The Block,' their tight formation preventing any of the protestors from returning to the tents which look foreign against the towering skyline. Despite this, the protestors aren’t discouraged, ; their angry fists are wielded high above their

The rain began cooling a little after four, drumming softly, at first, along the many multi colored rooftops where it invited drowsiness and sleep before finally seguing into a wraith of mist and fog; leaving the entirety of this part of the world drenched. The languid cries of protestors lining Poplar, spewing forth conspiracy laden doctrines and waving barely legible signs. Lines of cars screeching to a rest; their engines stirring up an impenetrable cloud of hums as tinted windows obscured the people they carried, going to places only they would know. Sentences- political spiritual artistical idyllic and altogether of a thin nature- rising like steam from the tirelessly pumping mouths of pseudo intellectuals crowded in

Franchesca walked out of her trailer in a pair of miss America pajamas with a fluffy pink robe over it. She walked towards the end of the trailer camp with a bucket, rusted from years of use. Though she was the first to rise, the other patrons began to come out of their trailers. Several of them called out welcome but she didn’t respond. She was always like this, especially today, which was the anniversary of “The Day”. She continued to walk with composure and posture, almost like a beauty queen, until she reached the end of the camp, where the sign “Welcome to Nevada Trailer Camp” stood, towering over the highway. No cars ever came through this way, not since the creation of the new 156 highway across the desert. Behind the sign was a dense forest where the Srca[pers, the tent people, lived. The adults often told the kids to stay away from the forest and told terrifying stories about the scapers eating raw animals and being just general savages.