
Canadian Columnist Jen Zoratti and her family
JEN ZORATTI, a columnist for the Winnipeg Free Press (as if there is such a thing), recently hailed the movie Obvious Child which “finally opens in Winnipeg this weekend.” The movie, she writes, represents a positive cultural development. For it is a romantic comedy that portrays abortion in a positive light.
Donna decides to have an abortion. And nothing bad happens to her.
Zoratti considers it outrageous that some people in this era of enlightenment still oppose abortion. The “subtlety of right-to-life tropes” is especially annoying. Anti-abortion activists are even arguing that terminating life in the womb is psychologically and medically harmful to women!! Do you believe it!?
From where I’m sitting, these are new tools of an old oppression under the guise of being “pro-woman.” All the more reason we need films such as Obvious Child to help de-stigmatize what is a common — and, in this country, legal — procedure.
Zoratti fails to mention that the overwhelming majority of these public critics of abortion are women themselves. Minor detail.
Don’t be fooled by this column into thinking Zoratti’s callousness towards women and children, her sense of superiority and condescension toward anyone who would not easily eliminate a human life in its formative stages, means she is devoid of maternal sentiments. She is not. In fact, she is extremely maternal. In another column, Zoratti effuses over of her dog, Samson:
Full disclosure: I am a dog mom.
My baby’s name is Samson. He’s a two-year-old Maltese/shih tzu cross — a handsome little fella with a wonky underbite, soulful brown eyes and a big personality. The kindly neighbour calls him “Mr. GQ” when he wears his charcoal grey J. Crew-esque turtle-neck sweater. (Yes, he owns a charcoal grey J. Crew-esque turtle-neck sweater.)
I regale friends and co-workers with what I think are adorable, witty stories about his various quirks. I flood my social-media feeds with photos. Samson in the porch. Samson in the park. Plaintive Samson. Artsy Samson. Samson in repose. On my desk at work is a framed photo of Samson and his dad, my partner. Our mothers refer to him as their grandchild. We’ve raised him from puppyhood. We can’t imagine our lives without him.
I am sure her friends are eager to see every last picture of Samson.
The nice thing about canine children is that they don’t stand in the way of a brilliant career as a newspaper ideologue. Samson, with his wit, his soulful eyes, his artistic depths, his interesting quirks, his “wonky underbite,” will never be an ornery teenager reminding his mother just how imperfect she is or keep her up night after night or require extensive moral education or be the subject of intense conjugal disagreement. As far as maternal investment goes, Samson is a remarkably good deal. Something tells me that Ms. Zoratti would be happy to oppress Samson’s real mother if abortion had been under consideration before her little darling was born.
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