SATURDAY, MAY 7 , 2022. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ RE AO
n the first anniversary of the Supreme
Court’s Jan. 22, 1973, decision in Roe
v. Wade, a small group of Maryland voters
came to see Sen. Charles McC. Mathias
Jr. (R) to urge his support for efforts to overturn
the ruling. Mathias wasn’t available, so another
legislative aide and I met with them, and we
provided copies of Mathias’s statement in the
Congressional Record, which sidestepped slam-
ming the 7-to-2 decision. The senator’s absence,
his on-the-record position and our presence as
surrogates didn’t sit well with the visitors, who
instructed us to tell our boss that the fight to
overturn the court’s decision would continue.
That might have been my first direct encounter
with the intensity of the antiabortion sentiment
touched off by Roe, but it surely was not the last.
Later, as a member of the board of directors for
Planned Parenthood of Metropolitan Washington,
D.C., I got a taste of antiabortion rage when the
Hillcrest Women’s Surgi-Center clinic was
bombed on New Year’s Day 1985.
I resigned from Planned Parenthood’s
D.C. board when I joined The Post as an editorial
writer in 1990. But I never lost track of the war
over a woman’s right to choose and the necessity of
remaining vigilant against efforts to use the
government to take control of women’s bodies.
Which makes the expressions of shock and
outrage over Justice Samuel A. Alito Jr.’s leaked
draft opinion overturning Roe even more distress-
ing. Anyone paying attention, especially during
the past 30 years, could tell this day was coming.
It’s both frustrating and disheartening to have
seen so many warning signs ignored.
After all, in 1984, the Republican Party platform
endorsed a “human life constitutional amend-
ment” and called for the appointment of judges
committed to such a measure.
Fact is, Republicans, locked in the warm em-
brace of the evangelical movement and Christian
conservatism, have won elections around the
country without having to account for their
opposition to a woman’s right to have an abortion.
And who failed to hold them to account? Some of
the same people now likening the Alito draft to a
thunderbolt. Where were they when storms were
brewing, and Senate and House Democratic seats
were being capsized in states down through the
years?
How did then-Senate Majority Leader Mitch
McConnell (R-Ky.) obtain the strength to place a
stranglehold on federal judicial nominations and
grease the skids for President Donald Trump’s
three Supreme Court nominees — Neil M. Gor-
such, Brett M. Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett
— who put Alito in the position to produce his
draft?
This columnist has been tough on Trump and
his flagrant disregard for truth and ethics. But
Trump has been upfront on abortion.
Trump once stated (before recanting) that there
should be some form of “punishment” for women
seeking abortions. He pledged as a candidate to
appoint Supreme Court justices who would over-
turn Roe. Trump said he’d shut down the govern-
ment rather than fund Planned Parenthood.
Anyone expressing surprise that Trump’s trio
would side with Alito and Justice Clarence Thomas
on abortion is either stupid or being disingenuous.
The only question worth considering at this
stage is how to restore national abortion rights
protections and prevent the high court from
further damaging the Constitution’s unenumerat-
ed rights, as Alito has laid the groundwork for
doing, his unconvincing disclaimer in the draft
notwithstanding.
Let’s leave the debate of what exactly the court’s
cabal of conservative extremists will do next to the
legal analysts and cable news contributors.
Instead, look beyond the Beltway to where the
fight for control of Congress — and the ability to
codify abortion rights into federal law — will take
place. In September, the Women’s Health Protec-
tion Act advanced in the House along a party-line
218-to-211 vote, with only one Democrat, Rep.
Henry Cuellar of Texas, against.
In February, the bill was blocked from being
debated 46 to 48 in the Senate. It would need
60 votes to overcome a filibuster.
It need not remain like that.
The burden is on proponents of women’s rights
to help change Washington’s political landscape.
That means doing the hard work away from
the cameras and mics. It means going into the
trenches where it counts and mobilizing voters.
Protecting a woman’s right to choose, and pro-
moting ballot access and defending gender iden-
tification and equality as well, won’t be advanced
by hand-wringing. If votes are there, freedoms
follow.
Trump and Alito have had their say.
It now falls to the people to make their voices
heard.COLBERT I. KINGSend a messageon Roe v. Wadewith your ballotCan I get something on the record? I love
moms. I really love moms. A caring mother
provides the best chance, sometimes the
only chance, a young person has of turning
into a responsible, self-reliant, high- character adult.
No mission is nobler.
However. Ahem. Even moms are subject to that
fundamental caveat of life: “up to a point.” Working
daily with and on behalf of tens of thousands of
other people’s children, as I do as the president of
Purdue University, one encounters mothers who,
let’s just say, carry things a little far.
Like the one who insisted, without ever providing
any documentation, that her child was allergic to all
nonorganic food. She ordered food multiple times a
week, accompanied by specially selected spices, and
had it delivered to our dining courts with a demand
that the staff cook it separately for him, to her specs.
(They did, for a year, until the demands, or maybe
the “allergies,” ceased.)
Or the mom who wrote and called eight times to
complain about her daughter’s accommodations.
She was sure there was mold (the test she ordered
came back negative) and that the water was tainted
(she sent it out for tests — negative again). The oven
handle was loose. (Has the college student tried
using a screwdriver?)
My school often receives helpful advice about
adding streetlights or other measures to enhance
physical security — on a campus found every year to
be one of the safest in the nation. After the
university acceded to one mother’s demands and
moved her daughter to different housing, she
continued to complain on behalf of other people’s
children who apparently hadn’t realized the extent
of their own jeopardy.
Of course, many of the grievances are justified,
and we try to act on them promptly. But after years
on the receiving end of such entreaties, I find that
the term “helicopter parent” no longer seems
adequate to capture the closeness of the hovering.
“Mom mowers” might be more descriptive.
This is not to exonerate the fathers. Although
paternal complaints make up a much smaller
fraction of the campus mailbag, they can be just as
difficult. One father was the source of 13 emails and
three phone calls about how miserably lonely his
son was, insisting he be moved to a different
residence. When visited, the student reported hav-
ing lots of friends, several extracurricular involve-
ments and zero interest in being moved.
Such parent-student disconnects are not un-
common. One mother was persistent and belliger-
ent because her son’s bed was too short for his
6-foot-3-inch frame. When visited to see if the
university could make a different accommodation
for him, he picked up his cellphone, called home
and bluntly asked Mom to butt out.
As extreme as such examples are, it is impossible
not to empathize with parents who, rationally or
not, worry about the physical safety or comfort of
their child. More dubious are parents’ attempts to
shield their offspring from failure or the academic
challenges that higher education, if it’s doing its job,
presents to its young clients.
Like the mother who insisted that we gather all
her son’s homework assignments daily and fax them
to her so that they could work on them together
every evening. Or the one who requested an
“advance interview” for herself the day before her
daughter’s own interview regarding a possible
academic award, so that she could “explain her
daughter’s qualifications” for the honor in question.
Or, a personal favorite, the mom who imperson-
ated her son — yes, son — at his teaching assistant’s
virtual office hours, to present his homework
solution and push for a 100 percent grade. Even
with the Zoom camera off, the TA detected the
subterfuge.
Years ago, when my wife and I took the eldest of
our four daughters to start college, the arrival day’s
welcome program ended abruptly midafternoon.
Parents and kids had attended separate orientation
sessions at lunchtime, and when we saw our
daughter again it was for only five minutes, before
the adults were politely excused. The message was
clear: A new era has begun for your child, and that
means for you, too.
In a country where so many social sadnesses are
the consequence of irresponsible, neglectful parent-
ing, one cannot fault those who love their children
to the point of overprotection. But protection from
challenge — and from the occasional failure that is
often the best teacher — can be endangerment of a
different kind.
So, bless all the moms, and dads, including those
who go a little over the edge. We’ll do our best to be
responsive. But remember: When your kid graduat-
ed from high school, maybe it was time for you to
graduate, too.
Happy Mother’s Day to all.MITCH DANIELSHail to mothers,even those whocan’t let go ofcollege-age kidsBY JOHN ROSIAKI’ve taken to spending my Saturday mornings
protesting outside the Russian Embassy on
Wisconsin Avenue NW in Washington — not
the sort of thing I typically do. I carry
hand-lettered signs that say various things, includ-
ing “STOP PUTLER” and “BEAR WITNESS.” An-
other says, “DEFECT.” That one I make a special
effort to show embassy staff who come and go — my
challenge and call to action for the Russians who
work there.
Why do I do this? Violence and injustice abound
across the globe, but the Russian invasion of Ukraine
moves me like no other.
First, my ethnic background drives me. Both my
father’s parents were Polish. When my grandmother
died in 1965, she left money for her church back in
Poland. That church was in the southeast of the
country, in the corner that abuts the current border
with Ukraine. My father gave the money (an en-
velope containing $2,000 cash) to a Catholic priest
to smuggle into Poland during his next trip there, so
that the Communist government wouldn’t confis-
cate it at the border.
This personal event occurred during that period ofmany decades when Poland was under the dominat-
ing fist of the Soviet regime. Even when I was a child
of 10, that reality was impressed upon me. Quite a
lesson in geopolitics. Now, witnessing from afar the
Poles’ open reception of Ukrainians — the country
has taken in more than 3 million refugees — has
awakened a sense of pride and purpose.
A broader heritage also drives me. Regardless of
my ethnicity, I, like everyone else, am foremost a
human being. We do so much better when we
cooperate, not when we wage war to destroy or
subjugate. Such destructive aggression demands a
response from all humankind. The vast majority of
people I have talked to about this war are horrified
by what is happening to our fellow human beings.
Devoting my Saturdays to holding up a sign is one
small response.
My actions are driven, too, by a desire for nations
to avoid the deadly mistakes of the past. I’m
especially interested in histories of the wars in
Europe, the rise of the Nazis and the fall of the Soviet
Union. My travels have reinforced this interest,
including a recent visit to Berlin — ground zero for
the rise and demise of the Nazi and Soviet regimes.
As I hold my signs, I’m compelled to think of the
history we refuse to learn from, and of the saying:“Those who don’t know history are destined to
repeat it.”
A love of history intertwines with my faith, which
also animates me to protest. Faith has long been a
driver of human action — it has moved people to
promote peace, to work for justice, to stand up for
the oppressed. Ukrainian, Russian, American and
other protesters might or might not be religious. But
all share a drive to act in the face of horror.
In the late 1970s, I became impressed with Pope
John Paul II’s leadership and courage in returning to
Poland after he was elected. His faith-filled challeng-
es on behalf of religious freedom, and freedom from
communist domination, contributed to the end of
communism in his country and helped influence the
collapse of the Soviet Union. This example of faith
inspires me as a Catholic and a Polish American.
Finally, I’m driven by life experience to the
embassy sidewalk. In the early 1990s, right after the
Soviet Union’s collapse, I spent time in Kazakhstan,
where I worked for the United Nations, setting up
drug abuse prevention programs for the newly
independent nation. We were there to support a
fledgling country — like Ukraine today — that was
still heavily influenced by Russian culture, and by
Russian people.In Kazakhstan, I worked closely with many Rus-
sians. This was sometimes a challenge. For instance,
I was told by my first interpreter that people didn’t
trust me because I smiled. But the experience of
getting to know Russian colleagues was ultimately
enriching. I don’t believe Vladimir Putin’s assault on
Ukraine represents the will of the Russian people.
On a recent Saturday, I met a family of Russian
emigres who had driven 11 hours from Michigan to
Washington to protest outside the embassy. They
carried their own protest signs, in Russian and
English. T hey wanted to express in person their
d esire for peace, along with their d isgust about what
the leaders of their homeland were doing in Ukraine.
We talked about their experiences under the Russian
regime and common motivations for protesting,
namely the desire to speak out against the evil of the
war.
I was honored to stand alongside them — and had
to drive only 30 minutes from Maryland to do so.
Opportunity calls me to action. So I seize it, and lend
my small voice to the chorus protesting Putin’s
atrocities.The writer is an educator who works in violence prevention
and mental health promotion.Why I spend my Saturday mornings at the Russian EmbassyDRAWING BOARDBY ED HALLBY NICK ANDERSONBY ANN TELNAESBY DREW SHENEMAN FOR THE STAR-LEDGER