March for Life

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to travel as a pseudo-chaperone with some of my church to Little Rock to participate in the 30th annual March for Life.

My trip began around 1 p.m. on Friday climbing in a van with three high school students, my mentor and another youth leader from the church. These might seem like odd or small numbers, but there were only five high-school-aged youth in our church to begin with, and since the diocese of Little Rock requires chaperones to be 25 (and I am just shy of 23) both male and female adults, not counting myself, were required. Barely on our way we realized check-in was at 6 p.m., not 3 p.m. This turned out to be no big deal as we spent our extra time at a mall (a rare occurrence for me these days).

Activities as the “Extravaganza” (as the diocese liked to call the event) included praise and worship, a couple of speakers, a Christian screamo band, a dance (or as I would refer to it from my high school days, a “mixer”), prayer service, Mass, rosary, adoration and, of course, the march.

Undoubtedly the highlight of the weekend for our youth was the dance. … It provided an opportunity for them to have fun and meet kids like them — other teenage Catholics living as Christian minorities and sometimes suffering as a consequence. They didn’t have to worry about being called out by a teacher for their beliefs or asked why they worship Mary.

Having grown up in very different circumstances, the need for such events was foreign to me (and to the archdiocese of Cincinnati). Even from the several months I have lived in Booneville I haven’t received any outright discrimination as a Catholic in an area where I am among about 1 percent. To hear some of the girls talk about how they are not comfortable in school expressing their religious background drove home what a blessing it is for these high schoolers to have a state-gathering.

Undoubtedly the highlights of my weekend were the march (of course) and getting time to really talk and get to know some of the girls from our youth group and spending time with my mentor.

The march was unlike anything I had done before. Trying to overcome my political apathy along with my journalism background (we are typically supposed to remain neutral/unbiased) protests and things of the like are not really my forte. It was need to stand in a place surrounded by people from all different parts of the state and all different backgrounds and beliefs united in one thing.

And the rest … see above about the hardships I learned take place in our small community for some of the youth to understand why I really appreciated that aspect. It is just hard to really get to know people in a group setting once or twice a week. Or in the case of my mentor when she has five children and almost always one is needing her attention (her oldest and most independent was on the trip with us).

If anything, the weekend was just a reminder how much I have learned since I have been here and how much more there is for me to continue learning.


Becca