If you’ve ever searched for a Father’s Day gift, you’ve likely come across t-shirts or mugs with a very specific kind of slogan splashed across them:
Princess Protection Agency
I have a daughter. I also have a gun, a shovel, and an alibi.
Husband, Daddy, Protector, Hero
In the two years since Roe’s demise, I’ve thought often about the men who wear these kinds of t-shirts—the fathers who joke about beating up their daughter’s dates, the husbands who declare they’d never let anyone disrespect their wives. The men who call themselves ‘protectors.’
I have a question for those men: Where are you? Don’t you see the danger we’re in? If you’ve been waiting for a moment to prove yourself, this is it. If there was ever a time to step up and defend the women in your lives, it is now.
Because I promise you that your daughter’s prom date is far less dangerous than her senator. The biggest threat to your wife isn’t a stranger lurking in the bushes, but the men skulking around your statehouse—legislators who would sooner see her die of sepsis than be treated as a full human being.
There’s no need to muse about how you’d react to an imagined threat; the danger is very much here, following women everywhere we go. And unlike the creep who tails us on our walk home or catcalls us in a parking lot, there’s no way to escape what this country is doing to us. We can’t walk in our front door, lock it, and breathe a sigh of relief. Because nowhere is safe for us anymore.
We’re not safe in hospitals, even in our most vulnerable moments when we’re dangerously ill. The doctors trained to save us now must wait until women are near death before intervening. We can’t count on law enforcement, either. Those supposedly tasked to protect us can use the law to punish women at will, arresting mothers who help daughters or prosecuting miscarriage patients.
The biggest horror of all: we’re not even safe in our own bodies.
Without your support, that may never change. To help, just look to the men who’ve already stepped up. More and more, men are speaking out after watching their loved ones suffer through the consequences of abortion bans.
When Chelsea Stovall was forced to leave Arkansas to end a nonviable pregnancy, her veteran husband Thomas spoke about how the experience shifted his view on abortion:
“It was a monumental change for me. I grew up believing it was wrong...I don’t believe that way anymore. I think every woman should have the choice to get an abortion if they want to. It’s not a dirty word.”
Justin George in Ohio told TIME about what it was like to desperately search for nearly a week to find a place that would give his wife an abortion, after finding out her pregnancy was doomed and dangerous:
“It was so taxing on both of us emotionally, even physically. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat. And then you just keep getting these horrible phone calls. You’re canceling hotels, you’re missing time from work, you have to reschedule days. It just got to be so much within just a few days.”
Ryan Hamilton in Texas has put himself in front of the camera instead of his wife, sharing their nightmare of being denied treatment as she miscarried.
You don’t need to be personally impacted by a post-Roe nightmare to do something. Better it never comes to that. Supporting and protecting women can mean anything from speaking up among friends to donating or volunteering for a local abortion fund. And, of course, voting in a way that defends the women you care about—which protects us all.
A recent campaign ad for U.S. Senate candidate Caroline Gleich in Utah spoke volumes on this count. Called “Dear Dad,” it featured fathers reading letters from their daughters—letters describing fear, needing help, and asking dads to vote for someone “who will fight for me as much as you would.”
As powerful as the ad was, I wish it wasn’t necessary. I wish we didn’t have to ask.
What gives me hope, though, is seeing how many of you are already helping. I know that you’re behind-the-scenes, driving your girlfriend out-of-state for care, showing up to protests, and speaking out about the incredible injustices happening ever day.
I also know that many of you aren’t. Maybe it’s because you feel uncomfortable or unsure, or you haven’t quite realized yet how big of a deal this all is. Perhaps you’ve been raised to believe abortion is wrong. Regardless of the reason, consider that it’s time to do something. How many women suffering and dying will it take?
Or is all the talk of being a ‘protector’ just talk? Is it all bluster and bullshit, an identity you wear like a t-shirt, an excuse to control women and ignore them when they ask directly for help?
I sure hope not.
The truth, of course, is that women don’t need “rescuing.” We’ve been saving ourselves for decades. But in this moment of real peril, we absolutely do need your support.
So please, look at what’s happening to us, and don’t look away.
Stoicism broke our brains? I genuinely don’t know where they are. I was at work a year ago and I heard a dude sincerely wondering outloud to a woman coworker about “don’t moms want to protect their unborn babies?” He clearly was of the mindset that rEaL mOms sacrifice everything. I kept my mouth shut as work is *so* not the place for me to get into that with anyone. But damn.
I think it’s some combination of absolute ignorance about pregnancy and childbirth (thanks to extremists running our family life ed boards) combined with rampant sexism and a big heaping dash of propaganda from antiabortionists and politicians and yes the corporate MSM.
I have been reflecting all week about how weird and abnormal this all is. I’m really sitting on this thought that the entire frame around abortion is all wrong and just shows how batshit crazy this all is. We keep talking about exceptions and weeks and points where an unborn, unspeaking, unconscious, even unfeeling thing — something that looks like algae bloom — gets priority over another human being and I just think we’ve lost our goddamn minds.
The biggest horror is realizing that men really are capable of dominating us. Through government and the courts. And that they want to. How naive I've been. I'm mad at myself for not realizing it.