I had one of those days...you know...well
One of my students emailed me to tell me that she missed class for "female" reasons, then proceeded to tell me she got an abortion.
I didn't want to hear that. And it's not because I want to discuss the abortion debate (not on my blog, please)...I just didn't want to hear about another poor, working class college student getting knocked up. Just. Like. That.
Several years ago, my neighbor got knocked up while she was a prostitute (I live in a very unique place). My neighbor was 17 at the time. She had the baby. I often went to her house to help her diaper, showed her how to rock the baby, how to wash the clothes in the sink with Ivory, why talking and singing to the baby is so important. How reading baby books now will not only help her child but also herself to learn to read.
She kept it for about 3 months, then gave it up for adoption. She couldn't take care of it, she said.
When I told a good good friend of mine the story recently, my friend asked why I didn't ask my neighbor for the baby.
Seriously? It's not a purse. I can't just ask for one, can I? If that's the case, I'll tell my students they'll get extra credit for getting knocked up, carrying to full term, then signing their parental rights over to me.
Sheesh. I mean, come on.