Complaint: and Questions, lots of Questions.

I've recently been working at a downtown school, and on my way there, I always have to pass near (but not in front of) anti-abortion picketers at Planned Parenthood.

It's all I can do each time I go by there not to stop and interview the picketers with some of my many questions:

1. Why are you here?

2. What do you hope to achieve?

3. Do you know anyone who's ever had an abortion? Have you ever had an abortion?

4. Do you think it's right to intimidate people who are trying to salvage their own lives? Or get condoms? Or receive low-cost health care?

5. Do you really want to talk about this, or just judge?

6. Do you think a mother should die in childbirth rather than have an abortion?

7. Do you think rape victims should not be allowed to have abortions?

8. How about victims of incest? Have you seen Precious?

9. And why do you think holding up a judgmental sign is going to dissuade someone whose life may well be in jeopardy, be it literally or figuratively, to change their course of action?

10. And do you honestly believe that shaming someone who is already in turmoil is going to make any difference at all?

11. Don't you have something better to do? Go feed the homeless or adopt a kid.

There's a time and a place, people. And picketing a Planned Parenthood is just, well, lame.

Which reminds me of a time several years ago when I was teaching high school in California, and one day there were students (not ours) picketing our high school driveway, with signs depicting graphic images of vacuumed up babies. WTF?!

I can tell you I don't remember anything else about that day except that I was furious. I suppose that makes these pathetic little sign-holders nothing to fuss about.

But still, I'm really tempted to walk over and ask them a few questions.

Because I'm really, really curious.