Washington, DC (LiveActionNews) — I enjoy studying history, particularly the history of blacks in America. My bookshelves hold the stories of Fredrick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and their peers. I honor the work of their white counterparts who stood with them in the trenches: the abolitionist writer William Lloyd Garrison, the influential Tappan brothers, and Harriet Beecher Stowe.
They held to the truth that “all men are created equal” and are therefore deserving of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Not willing to deny this creed in times of moral depravity, they separated themselves from the masses and stood for righteousness. What was their cause? It was a fight for human dignity. These emboldened speakers stood before presidents and paupers declaring all mankind worthy of respect.
As a girl growing up in a diverse New England school, I latched onto these concepts. My teachers opened the books, and I beheld fires burning on the hearts of those who went before me. I was mesmerized by the light and captivated by the heat of their passion. Other students may have viewed our history lessons as one tumultuous battle after another. I saw our stories as a beautiful tapestry woven together by a Sovereign God.
I was inspired by the faith of my people and the unrelenting drive that caused us to overcome. Trials clipped our wings, but like a bird full of colorful plumage, we soared. Rise we did, as Maya Angelou prophesied. We refused to let our wounds define us or stay bound to the accusations hurled against our ancestors. Some portrayed us as unintelligent, boorish primates, using rudimentary caricatures. Other mocked us as slaphappy goons, feasting on watermelon and shuffling our feet to entertain the elite. Yet before our bronzed feet were shackled, we wore crowns. We are a dignified people, marked by pain but poised for triumph.
During Black History Month, we take time to remember the past. Yet as we glance back, we must also pause to ponder the present. What are the current pressing struggles of our people? What hinders our freedom and destroys us in this day?
In my twenties, I was focused on pursuing an education and changing the world. Then the words from a single conversation pierced my soul. The hesitant confession of my mother shook the foundations under my feet. My mother admitted to scheduling an abortion for me. She could barely tell me for the guilt that stained her heart. The words came slowly, with apologies and fears that I would think differently of her. How could I? I was numbed by the realization that I had survived.
I begin to research the issue of abortion. I learned that the procedure that almost destroyed me was part of a billion-dollar global business. I discovered the numbers: over fifty-six million unborn children dead in my nation. As for my people, the facts floored me. Black women are three times more likely to abort than those of any other race. Black teenage abortion rates are more than double the national average. Around one thousand more black children are dead every day from abortion. Sixteen million black children have been killed since 1973 in the U.S. alone. Forty percent of black pregnancies end in abortion. Abortion is the leading cause of death in black America.
This is the sobering reality of which I’m now aware. I imagined us as people making valiant steps of progress, but now I see the bounty placed on our heads and the price associated with our mass murder. “Nonsense,” people told me. “Blacks are succeeding in ways our ancestors never dreamed of. We have a black president in the White House and African-American leaders in every sphere of society. Abortion is one issue among many, but we have greater problems.” I once thought that way. Now I find it impossible to be silent when the number of black children aborted in New York outweighs live births. What issue can be more important than our survival? We’re decreasing at an increasing rate, and most in our community are completely ignorant.
African-Americans are a people with a collective identity. We march in the streets for a slain teenager because his pain is ours. We rally around the television to watch a young Olympian leap because her gold is our victory. We rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.
However, when it comes to abortion, we’ve failed to identify with our unborn brothers and sisters. Where are the tears for the 16 million black unborn who never entered into daylight? Where are the cries for their justice? We, a people who raised our fists through history, refusing to let our nation forget us, have seemingly forgotten our own children.
The Hebrew Scriptures tell the story of a man named Cain who, motivated by envy, murdered his brother, Abel. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob bellowed from heaven, “Where is your brother?” To this Cain replied, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yahweh, to whom nothing is hidden, responded with these words: “Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground” (Genesis 4:10).
Bloodshed at the hand of a family member is a horrible betrayal. From the whips dealt by the plantation owner’s lash to the beats borne on “Bloody Sunday,” blacks have shed their blood at the hands of strangers. Yet when it comes to abortion, we, like Abel, are victims of bloodshed through the acts of our family members.
In “The Negro Mother,” Langston Hughes writes:
I am the child they stole from the sand
Three hundred years ago in Africa’s land.
I am the dark girl who crossed the wide sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
No safety, no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth.
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I’m reaching the goal.
Now, through my children, young and free,
I realize the blessings denied to me.
A mother is called to protect the seed she carries within. A father is destined to fight for his children. Parents have the privilege to nurture the young and defend the weak. The black community neglect this privilege when we terminate our children.
We’ve swallowed and digested the propaganda of “my body, my choice.” Being poor students of history, we remain ignorant of the racist agenda found in the writings of Planned Parenthood founder Margaret Sanger. Desiring progress, we run forward, unaware that millions are missing from the lanes. Untold millions who never got the chance to start their race.
It’s easier to point the finger at our former and present captors than to hold ourselves accountable. Pastors, who demand justice for our people, should sit in silence and ask themselves if they’ve been their unborn brothers’ keepers. Political leaders should fight to protect the unborn, our most valuable assets. We, a people thought to be against abortion, must stop supporting leaders who act as puppets for the billion-dollar abortion industry, Planned Parenthood.
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Black believers have a duty to put their faith into action on behalf of the most vulnerable among us. It’s comfortable to shout and praise in congregations with climate control and cushy pews. It’s challenging to leave those places and stand on corners outside abortion clinics. We must accept this challenge.
Are we willing to see women rushed in like cattle, with the light gone from their eyes? Will we behold the steady stream of black men who escort their ladies into clinics to eliminate their problems? Will we open our ears to hear the silent cries of millions of unborn children who are sentenced and executed for crimes they never committed? If we want to fight for our people, this is the face of injustice in black America.
Black America has surrendered its dignity with the death of our offspring through the insidious act of abortion. Until this evil is overturned, we stand condemned by the weight of our history. We, a people who championed self-respect, neglect to give it to ourselves and our children. Are their answers for this atrocity? Yes, we have them.
Every person, regardless of his or her occupation, can play a role in righting this wrong. Before we can act, we must be awakened by the alarm. We must commit to the cause of life. Refuse to make peace with the act of abortion, for it goes against all we’ve stood for as a people.
LifeNews Note: Christinia Martin writes for Live Action News. Martin has been a pro-life voice for eight years. Her work began after her mother confessed she paid a doctor to abort her, but walked out before he could. Knowing she was saved from death, she wanted to fight for others.