Prism Online

March 1995

Teens Fight For Rights

by Stephanie Leonoudakis-Golder

One of Megan McIlhenny's most vivid memories is of being 8 years old and watching a protest in front of an abortion clinic. She could hear the loud screams of a chaplain wearing a medical coat and surgical gloves. As he shouted words of protest, she noticed a trash can filled with baby dolls covered in ketchup. The grisly sight, meant to mimic the remains of aborted fetuses, frightened her and inspired her to believe in peaceful protests at a young age.

A growing number of teen-agers are getting involved in what has customarily been an adult concern. They are joining pro-life and pro-choice organizations and working for established agencies. Armed with the courage of their convictions, these young people reach out to their peers by advocating peaceful protests and practical solutions.

McIlhenny, a peer counselor trained through the Crisis Pregnancy Center in San Francisco, also ministers to her age group. Still too young to be a CPC counselor (you must be 18 years old to do so), McIlhenny was sent by CPC to peer counsel at an abstinence seminar held at Mission High School last year.

Getting involved on the other side of the battle is 16-year-old Spirit Demerson who is a clinic escort for The Bay Area Coalition For Our Reproductive Rights. Demerson dons wild pink braids that play against her light brown skin. The look is a tribute to the punk scene she espouses and promotes. She doesn't just hang out on the scene. A self-described anarchist, Demerson organized the Bay Area chapter of "Riot Grrrls," a girl pride group in San Jose that promotes punk girl bands and has a decidedly feminist philosophy.

On being a clinic escort Demerson says, "The hardest thing about it is psychological. Maybe this time they aren't threatening somebody's choice, but then you realize that they want to and they will." Demerson says she wonders how far pro-life activists will go.

Sisters Shana and Hope Garaway, who organized the pro-life group, "Stand Up For Life," watch a young woman leave a clinic in tears. A man accompanies her to a car and carefully shields her face from the Garaways and 30 other teen-agers who pray, sing church songs and hold pro-life signs. One teen gives the man a pamphlet on post- abortion counseling while clinic escorts keep the rest away.

In the middle of the quiet protest, the Garaways hug each other and begin to cry. "We felt so bad for that girl. That's when they really need help," says 19-year-old Shana.

The sisters say their parents did not have a lot to do with planning the picketing of abortion clinics. "We did all the work. It was practically our life for that year," says Shana of her days protesting abortion clinics. "I'm proud to say I'm a Christian and pro-life. I learned to stand up for what I believe." The group, which was comprised of about 100 teen-agers, picketed clinics in Santa Clara County consistently for a year. Sometimes as many as 55 teen-agers picketed at one time.

As a peer outreach educator, 17-year-old Joey Mann has sometimes had to counsel his own friends. When his best friend came into the Daly City clinic to get a pregnancy test, Mann performed her initial evaluation. It was hard for him to advise her because they had been so close, and she had not told him of her possible pregnancy. "That was the hardest time for me not to put my own feelings into it because we had shared everything in life," says Mann.

Mann has been employed by Planned Parenthood since he was 15. He counsels teens who want to talk to someone their own age, and dispenses information about birth control and the different options available to pregnant teens. In the two years he has worked for Planned Parenthood, he has done everything from clinic escorting to counseling teens on HIV and AIDS.

Peer outreach educators are constantly being trained in the Planned Parenthood philosophy, and are then encouraged to present it in their own way. Mann stresses the need to be detached and objective when dealing with patients. "Basically, one of the rules when you become an educator is that when you walk through the doors at Planned Parenthood, or when you have a contact, you leave your personal feelings behind and you have a professional attitude." Mann says you will never hear an educator say, "If I were you, I'd do this," or "You should do this," because it is not their job to make those decisions.

McIlhenny, although on the opposite side of the battle, practices a similar philosophy. Her reticent eyes peek through wispy blond bangs as she says, "I wouldn't want to promote any kind of violence, because I've seen it. I would rather speak the truth in love."

Shana does not see picketing and praying in front of abortion clinics as the only way to get involved. "We are daily involved for the pro-life cause," she says. She has gone through midwifery training and helps out at Santa Clara's Crisis Pregnancy Center, where her father is on the board of directors.

"We try to live our lives as an example," says Garaway. "We weren't trying to scream or put all this stuff down people's throats. We were trying to make a point and make people think. We weren't even stopping any girls from going in," she says.

A young couple driving their car into the parking lot of the Pregnancy Consultation Center in San Jose barely miss a tall, blond man carrying a sign which reads "Let Us Help You Love Your Baby." The couple, who look annoyed, do not turn around to read his sign and ignore the rising crescendo of people assembled on either side of the driveway. They park their car and are met by a short, plump gray-haired woman wearing a yellow bib with the letters BACORR etched in black. She reassures them, then waves them toward the doors of the clinic. "Please don't go in there," shouts a woman from the driveway, "it's not too late to save your baby!"

"Be quiet. Be quiet. They don't want to hear you," a man with a pro-life sign shouts back. The times, they are a' changin!'"

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