But I still have that thought that if a woman was raped, she has her right. “I didn’t feel like a Christian when I was on that side of the room. “I felt guilty and guilty and guilty,” I wrote in my journal. My classmates said I needed to go to the other side, and I did. Then I raised my hand and, according to my journal, said, “I think it is always morally wrong and absolutely murder, but if a woman is raped, I respect her right to get an abortion.” Also, I said, if a woman knew the child would face a terrible life, the child might be better off. We all walked to the wall that meant “agree.” “Abortion is always wrong,” he offered, and there was no disagreement. He presented us with moral propositions, and we stood up and physically chose sides. Twenty years ago, when I was thirteen, I wrote an entry in my journal about abortion, which began, “I have this huge thing weighing on me.” That morning, in Bible class, which I’d attended every day since the first grade at an evangelical school, in Houston, my teacher had led us in an exercise called Agree/Disagree.
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