Risky business
Try something new and scary during the upcoming year
*
ERIN REITZ is a senior the
ater performance major
and a Daily Nebraskan
columnist
My final project in acting class
this semester is a love scene. It’s not a
physical love scene, per se, but there
will probably be some hand-holding.
In fact, this scene pretty much runs the
gamut of human emotion. Verbally, it’s
quite passionate.
It’s with another woman.
Yup, I play Gertrude Stein’s girl
friend. Her name was Alice, by the
way, and you’ve probably never heard
of her. I hadn’t either. Ignorantly
enough, I wasn’t even aware Stein was
a lesbian.
I’m feeling pretty ashamed that
I’m so unenlightened about such an
important American writer. Mostly
what I’m feeling ashamed about,
though, is the fact that doing this scene
makes me nervous.
By all means, I’m not homopho
bic. Quite a few of my friends are gay
or bi, and I’m comfortable with it. But
something inside is not letting me be
at ease with assuming this fictional
identity, even if it’s for only a couple of
weeks.
The thing is, I don’t have to do this
scene. My scene partner chose it, and I
agreed it would be a good one to per
form, so I’m going to perform it with
her. Even though it’s only one five
minute scene in what hopefully will be
a full acting career, it may be one of
the most important things I do.
See, I’m taking a major personal
risk.
This may not seem like a big deal
to anyone else (with the exception of
my scene partner), but it’s a big risk for
me. Once I force myself to do this one
uncomfortable thing, I’ll be able to do
so much more.
I’m officially making myself move
out of my comfort zone. I’m
“thinking outside of the
box.” (P.S.: Thanks for
that over-used phrase
should go to UNDs
own Residential
Education.) I’m try
ing something I’m
not used to. No, I’ll
rephrase that. I’m
forcing myself to do
something I’m not
used to.
I rock.
Because I’m tak
ing a risk, I think
that this can techni
cally be called
risky behavior. But
it won’t be, because
“risky behavior”
alludes to things like
having unprotected
sex or driving your
car on the wrong
side of the road. (I
prefer to call that
“asinine behavior,”
by the way.)
When we were
young, our parents
and teachers and
everyone else we
were wise to fear told
us not to engage in
risky behavior. And we
were fine with that.
They were protecting us
from getting into trou
ble, plain and simple.
But now that we’re here
and pretty much inde
pendent, we can change
the meaning of that
phrase if we want to.
I want to.
I’d like to see the pure
ly negative connotation
disappear. I’d like to see
students and the rest of
the world start taking
more risks.
Now people, this is
prime time to bring up
the concept die rest of
the world calls good
ol’ common sense.
(Side note: The
phrase “good ol’ common sense” is
most fun and effective when said with
a deep Southern accent.)
Playing Marco Polo on the inter
Shawn Drapai/DN
state or volunteering to be the tackle
dummy for the football team, for
example, are good demonstrations of
utilizing no common sense whatsoev
er. You can take personal risks without
putting your health, your sanity and/or
your life in jeopardy. Really. I’m not
ladding here.
Getting out of your comfort zone
can mean taking a class that makes
you nervous, going to a sushi bar,
attempting a jump on your snow
board or joining the Peace Corps.
It all depends on where you want
to go with your life. What
may seem insignificant to your
roommate could be the most
radical thing you’ve ever done.
Guess what? It’s time to
doit.
No, really. Make it your
New Year’s resolution to put
your butt on the line. Take a
major personal risk. Make
it absolutely imperative to
do something you’ve never
done before- something
that gives you genuine but
terflies in your stomach
when you think about it.
It’ll feel great when you
finally attempt it
(Disclaimer; Jfyour person
al risk is ridingthe Marhbaat
Worlds of Fun and you subse
quently throw up, you will not
feel great about attempting it
initially. You may not blame the
author of this column. Sorry.)
• Make 1999 the year you try
something you’ve never done
before. And someday, you can
look back on your moment of
glory and say, “Man. I really bit
the bullet and did it didn’t I?
.j I am a bad-ass! Woo-hoo!”
%. I myself plan to try arti
t chokes and mouth off to swp^
| did that this year. Hriim2GK^ ’
how about this: I’m going to
pi' V move off campus, become
H>2. | almost financially responsi
ble and learn how to change
the oil in my car.
mmtBl Sushi can wait ’til the
21st century.
The right to choose ignorance
Abortion protesters picked the wrong place at the wrong time
TIM SULLIVAN is a third
year law student and
a Daily Nebraskan
columnist.
Have you ever had the experience
of visiting a Planned Parenthood
clinic?
Maybe asking you that question
made you uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable.
Perhaps that’s because your girl
friend went there, without you.
Maybe she went there because she
was pregnant.
If she went there because she was
pregnant, the chances are good she
went there to inquire about getting an
abortion.
Maybe that’s the source of your
discomfort. Maybe you feel some
guilt as a result of being a part of
that.
You didn’t go with her (maybe
you did, but there are probably still
some guilty feelings associated with
it), but you were largely responsible
ior me necessity or me visit.
But maybe you went there for
something else. And then again,
maybe she went there for something
else, but alone. Without you.
She could have gone there for an
examination for birth control pills.
Or a rubella test for a marriage
license. Or maybe just a pap smear.
Whatever her reason for going
there, she made the decision.
She may have made that decision
because you didn’t give her the kind
of support she needed at a critical
time in her life - that is, if she went
there to get an abortion.
But then again, it could have
been your refusal to practice safe
sex, as in using a condom. Hence the
need for the birth control pills.
Did you know Lincoln has two
Planned Parenthood clinics?
One of them is on O Street. The
other Is on South Street.
If she went to the 0 Street clinic,
she wasn’t there to get an abortion.
That’s because they don’t per
form them there. They perform them
only at the South Street location.
I recently accompanied a friend
to the O Street Planned Parenthood
location for an examination for birth
control pills.
As we approached the entrance, I
noticed a small group of people
(three, to be exact) across the street,
on the comer in front of OfficeMax.
They were holding up signs, fac
mg the direction of the Planned
Parenthood clinic. The signs bore
messages indicative of their pro-life,
anti-abortion views.
As I sat waiting for my friend, I
wondered how the protesters across
the street made her feel as she
entered the clinic, seeking only a
means to prevent an unwanted preg
nancy.
I also thought about the faithful
parishioners of Westminster Church,
who go there to worship peacefully,
only to endure the harassment of
pro-lifers because Dr. Winston
Crabb, a well-known abortion practi
tioner here in Lincoln, attends their
church.
Not everyone is ready or able to
be a parent, I thought. Many of us,
while we may want to raise children
someday, find ourselves in positions
in our lives that would make parent
hood impractical or unwise.
If it’s true that becoming a parent
would be a poor decision for some of
us at certain points in our lives, it
must be equally true that to do so at
such a point in our lives would not be
in the best interests of the child who
would be so irresponsibly brought
into this world.
So it strikes me that women who
use the pill for birth control are act
ing responsibly.
And the protesters across the
street shouldn’t have anything to
bitch about.
There they stood, protesting
against abortion at a Planned
Parenthood clinic where no abor
tions occur.
The women seeking the services
of the O Street clinic, it seems to me,
are trying to make sure they don’t
find themselves in the position those
protesters are so concerned about.
By taking measures to prevent
unwanted pregnancies, they aren’t
subjecting themselves or anyone else
to being faced with the decision of
whether or not to abort a pregnancy.
But those protesters don’t believe
that she or anyone else ought to be
able to make that decision.'
I know that abortion is a social
issue on which the citizens of this
country may never be able to reach a
consensus.
But this country was founded on
a rule of law. That means we are gov
erned by laws, not by men.
Perhaps they don’t remember
Roe v. Wade.
That landmark Supreme Court
case made it clear that the law in this
country says the woman, up to a cer
tain point, has the right to choose.
What do I think of that decision?
I think it was a good one. I think
the woman should always have the
final say when it comes to her own
body.
If she is not ready to be a mother
to the child she carries, for whatever
reason, she should be able to termi
nate that pregnancy.
Someone told me if I expressed
my pro-choice views publicly in this
column, pro-lifers might add my
name to their lists of pro-choicers
that pro-life advocates with violent
tendencies would use for the purpose
of hunting me down and hurting me.
Lord knows, they’ve hurt (and
killed) a lot of people in furthering
their cause.
One of the Web sites for pro-lif
ers I found has a page that pro-life
advocates can go to for the purpose
of signing a nonviolence pledge.
Imagine that.
An organization dedicated so fer
vently to the preservation of life, yet
so violent (and deadly).
I have no problem with the free
expression of speech. The protesters
who were picketing the O Street clin
ic the day I was there with my friend
were exercising a right I personally
cherish.
But I still have to question their
wisdom. Are they stupid, or what?
Why protest abortions at a clinic
where none occur? -
And, in so doing, why harass
innocent women who are there mere
ly to help prevent the thing they’re so
concerned about in the first place?
Pro-lifers have the same right to
freedom of speech as I do.
But maybe they ought to think
about how (and where) to exercise it
in an intelligent manner.
