Ninety-four Trimesters and Counting

I'm not certain what level of media attention that this is garnering, so I'll start by bringing all of my readers abroad up to speed on what I know has at least caused quite a stir locally. Here you go. Now, for those who don't want to be bothered, the Coles Notes version is this: an anti-abortion group camped out in downtown Fredericton, displaying large graphic photos of aborted fetuses and handing out pamphlets to passerby. Many pedestrians and motorists found these pictures to be in poor taste, which prompted many complaints to police and many shouted insults. I'd assimilated this information from various sources over the last couple of days, so I was aware of it, but it didn't really impact me in any significant way, so I didn't really give it much thought. That is, until I found myself standing in their midst yesterday morning, and subjected to discussion with them, heckling from their detractors, and attention from television cameras.

I gather that they were out and about on Monday as well, but I didn't see them at all while either walking or driving, so they apparently relocated on Tuesday. There was a notification on the radio that very morning that they were out in force again, but it hadn't even occurred to me that I might run into them on my way to work. So, when I passed through the graveyard and suddenly found myself among them, I was taken rather by surprise. And, in an extra bit of cosmic humour, I just missed my walk light, which left me standing there for roughly a full minute, with refuge tantalizingly waiting just across the street. I've never wanted to get to work so badly in my life. I've been more comfortable crossing picket lines, and let me tell you, I've had some very awkward moments in picket lines (long story, involving a co-op term on base and some ambiguities surrounding the specifics of my employment).

As protestors go, though, they were admittedly a pretty light touch. They were friendly and polite, and only a couple of them left their sign-holding positions to approach me and ask me if I'd like an informational pamphlet, to which I awkwardly smiled (as if I am able to smile in any other fashion), replied "sure", and took a pamphlet. Now, don't get me wrong-- that shouldn't necessarily be interpreted as an endorsement. I'm pretty sure that if they were standing there in Nazi uniforms and handing out pamphlets entitled "Ethnic Cleansing: Not so Bad?" that I'd still have reacted in precisely the same way, simply in the interests of avoiding an awkward conversation. I guess that I should probably be ashamed of that, but it's a pretty fundamental character trait-- I will go to great and often irrational lengths to avoid awkward social encounters of any kind.

Now, had that been the end of it, I likely wouldn't be bothering to relate this story. However, after I had been standing there conversing with them for roughly twenty seconds, the jeers began. The first was a passing motorist, who honked his horn and gave us the finger. Now, presumably (or, hopefully, I guess I should say) this, and everything that followed, was directed not at me but the people around me, yet I still couldn't help but begin to feel very nervous. Then another driver passed a few seconds later and shouted "Go home!" and also flipped us the bird. After that, a pedestrian passed by, gave us a baleful stare, and spit on the ground at our feet. Then, the light turned red, which, while prompting the joyous arrival of my walk light, also left those waiting in the quickly growing line of vehicles time to more thoroughly express their hostility. As I crossed the street as fast as I could without breaking into a jog (making a point to avoid the locations that the TV cameras seemed to be pointed at), and tucked the pamphlet into my pocket as surreptitiously as I could manage, the shouts and insults quickly grew in volume, frequency, and intensity:

"You're not welcome!"

"What is wrong with you people!?"

"Get the fuck out of our city!"

"Fuck off and go home, assholes, before I have to get out of this car and make you!"

Finally, one woman leaned out her car window, looked directly at me, and shouted: "That's disgusting. You should be ashamed."

Her words may not seem as harsh as some of the others being bandied about, but these were directed at me, and I was taken aback at the intensity of the... hatred in her voice. Hatred is definitely the word. I've never in my life heard someone speak with such hate, let alone someone in Fredericton. And she wasn't the only one-- I heard similar acid in many of the other shouts. If she and all of the other motorists and passerby had suddenly started throwing rocks, I wouldn't have been surprised. In fact, I was fully prepared to duck-- I could already see the angry mob solidifying in my mind. I was beginning to fear for my own safety. I just can't quite process it all. I mean, I'm not ever sure that I think the imagery was all that inappropriate (I'm still in the process of deciding), but even if I did find it incredibly distasteful, I still can't fathom it causing a reaction that intense. You'd think that they were holding was a NAMBLA rally, to engender such a response as they did.

At that point, I did break into a jog, and I didn't stop until I reached the mall entrance. So terrified was I that I might be associated with those protestors again that I snuck into the bathroom at my earliest opportunity, and, after making sure that no one else was in there, quickly shoved the pamphlet into the garbage can and left. Yes, that's right-- I was afraid to use the garbage can in my office. I spent the whole day mulling over the events of the morning and dreading my return trip after work, but, fortunately, there was no sign of them at the end of the day. I presume that they all moved on to their next stop: Saint John.

You might think that such an experience might cause me to identify with the protestors a bit, but it actually had quite the opposite effect. I simply cannot fathom why a person would submit themselves to something like that. I'd like to think that I'm fairly socially minded, but I wouldn't touch such a polarizing social issue in that kind of setting with a ten-foot clown pole. The majority of such issues don't have any direct impact on my life one way or another, and I guess I'm fortunate in that, but even if they did I don't think I could bring myself to care enough to behave in such a fashion and submit myself to such intense public scorn.

The funny thing is that I actually find this issue to be a bit less clear-cut than many other similar issues, and while I am pro-choice, I am not firm in my convictions on this matter. In fact, I likely would have at least given their pamphlet a read had it been, say, distributed by a single person not surrounded by dozens of other people displaying pictures of aborted fetuses, because that single person likely would not have attracted any notice, which would in turn have allowed me to read what was handed to me without fearing for my own safety. It wasn't the imagery or the message that I was disgusted with, though-- it was the behaviour of the people of Fredericton.