The world has become a difficult place for difficult decisions. Or maybe it always was and we were just able to periodically ignore that fact when convenience and privilege allowed. Throughout the course of anyone’s life, though, the time to ignore that fact disappears when the conversation turns personal. Whether it’s race, religion, orientation, legal rights or state-sanctioned access to resources, the need to fight rather than converse becomes real when the conversation hits home.
This past June, millions of women across the country felt the time for conversation subsiding when The Supreme Court overturned the original 1973 Roe v. Wade ruling that guaranteed federal access to abortion. Emotions erupted on both sides of the argument with opponents of the decision fearing a loss of federal legislative rights, and on a more personal level, loss of access to medical resources that for many had, until that point, been available their entire lifetimes. Proponents of the rollback argued on the basis of ensuring proper legality and setting precedence for the potential limiting of federal oversight into such laws, essentially pushing more power to the states.
The case carried a note from Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito, citing that the decision “concerns the constitutional right of abortion and no other right.” Justice Clarence Thomas immediately contradicted Alito’s words with his own, stating that indeed, the same legal rationale behind the decision could be applied unilaterally with regards to decisions such as the legalization of gay marriage, the decriminilization of homosexuality, and the right to access contraceptives. He continued that, “for that reason, in future cases, we should reconsider all” precedents.
And right here is the moment where open conversation is so desperately needed and yet, is in remarkably short supply. So much of what we’re all addressing as Americans at this moment in time comes down to basic humanity, or rather a human-ness. Most adults can carry on a civil conversation with another adult assuming the topic stays in a safe zone that doesn’t allow for much difference of opinion, say, an impending hurricane. We can all agree that hurricanes are bad news and we should probably fill our cars with gas and board up our windows. Easy enough. When that same conversation jumps to the next level, though, whether to evacuate, most people can still manage to have a constructive conversation regardless of their personal decision. Provided, of course, that everyone has access to the same resources (money, a car, somewhere to go), we are content to make our own choices and get on our way…or not. Jump that up a level to a mandatory evacuation. People have lost their autonomous choice, and some are going to be upset about that. Most can see though that it’s a decision based on protecting the greater good, or at its coldest and most calculated level, a decision based on the metric that determines how many rescue workers’ lives will be endangered and how many resources will be sacrificed by the city or state. But no one ever has to discuss a hurricane in which people are forced to stay. Let’s imagine that a Category 4 is roaring our way and suddenly an order is issued and a blockade is placed. Even if the powers that be argued that we placed ourselves in such a position by choosing to live in a susceptible area, it wouldn’t go over well. Conversations turn to fights when we need to protect ourselves and our loved ones.
Concepts of legal precedence and the mechanisms of Constitutional law fall by the wayside when the rights that drive our entire lives are put on the table. When bodies and marriages are up for consideration, the world tilts and feels a little less safe. As a woman, who has been legally married to another woman for over a decade (at the state level prior to the 2015 federal ruling), I can personally say that, as much as I enjoy legal and legislative semantics, that game is of no interest to me when it directly affects my well-being and that of my family. I would be happy to have endless theoretical conversations about marriage or about LGBTQ history. Fascinating. Harmless. Informative. Thought-provoking. All things that a conversation should be. What I am not interested in is mounting a defense of my right to share tax and medical implications or parental rights with my spouse.
Perhaps the federal legal structure supporting gay marriage isn’t perfect. But, it serves as course-correction where it was needed. Perhaps Roe v. Wade should never have followed the legal path it did. Same for Brown v. Board of Education. Or Loving v. Virginia. I’ll concede a point to Thomas (something I never thought I’d do), but with a major caveat. Yes, the federal government, or more specifically, nine individuals representing the whole of our diverse country, should not have to decide cases affecting personal rights. But, we live in an imperfect world, and in a country with a skeletal system built during much simpler times.
Issues arise when conversations stop and conflict starts. Conflict starts when people are threatened. When people are threatened, they turn to a more powerful entity for help. I personally want to feel protected by my government and commend decisions, like Loving v. Virginia, that we now see, with the benefit of hindsight to have been made in the best interest of humanity and in response to those who fought when they needed, and asked that higher entity for help. That, that is the purpose and importance of such rulings.
