Kevin Smith, Bienen sophomore, seems absolutely terrified. He should be. Photo by Katie Tang / North by Northwestern.

Friday is “Kick a Ginger Day”. Naturally, as a ginger myself, I’m scared. I received the Facebook event notification earlier this week. I didn’t know the person who invited me; she had sent the invite to everyone on her friend list, which isn’t a surprise. Hatred of redheads seems to be a growing fad, and while it is, historically speaking, nothing new, the origin of this particular upswing in ginger-bashing can be precisely traced to a single TV show.

The “Ginger Kids” episode of South Park, which first aired in 2005, brought with it a slew of fresh redhead stereotypes for a generation that had never even heard the term “ginger” before. And while the episode is extremely funny, the campaign against redheads which it spawned is anything but. You’ve probably heard the gingerists’ mantras by now. Gingers are hideous. Gingers can’t go out in the sunlight. Gingers have no souls. We’re basically like vampires without the fangs or the Edward Cullen sex appeal. And even though, after being transformed into a befreckled redhead, the already soul-less Eric Cartman sees the error in his gingerphobic ways, this lessen has been lost on viewers. In a culture where ethnic humor is taboo and racist or sexist jokes end in campus-wide discussions, gingers have become the comedic target du jour.

I have been reeling from all the extra attention. Before college, my hair never provoked anything worse than curiosity (unless you consider “Ron Weasley” an insult). I even received regular compliments from hairstylists and old people. I tried my best to dispel the “redheads are going extinct” rumor (insulting as both a redhead and a bio major), and I lamented when redhead celebrities like Lindsay Lohan fell victim to Hollywood’s obsession with dyed blonde hair. Life was simpler before South Park.

Then, as the years following the “Ginger Kids” episode passed, the jokes started to pick up. Friends would ask me if I was a day walker. Drunken passerbys accused me of lacking a soul. On mischief night, I got hit by an egg as someone in a passing car shouted “Gingers suck!” I wasn’t really surprised by the negative attention; I always knew I was different, and I was almost surprised it took so long. I just figured the whole fad would blow over in a couple years.

It hasn’t. In fact, my roommates have started calling me “ginge” on a daily basis. They complain about “maximum redhead capacity” when I bring red-haired friends over. Even a fellow redhead roommate has turned to the dark side: his staple comeback is to call me a dirty ginger, his self-hating ways necessary to survive in a gingerphobic house. They’re just joking, they tell me, and to be honest, I believe them. But what about the person who started the “Kick a Ginger Day” Facebook event? Or the thousands who intend to “attend?” I can’t be certain about anyone. Who can tell when a series of harmless jokes, unchecked by media attention, historical context or community support groups, will become an all-out, Cartman-style crusade against redheads? How do I know my shins are safe?

Despite this slippery slope, there may be a bright future for redheads. In my conversations with fellow “gingers” this year, I’ve felt a real sense of solidarity. We know that we have to stick together in this scary world. Others have reached out to help. A thoughtful individual has renamed Friday “International Hug a Ginger Day” to compete with its kicking cousin (which has since been removed from Facebook), and I intend to celebrate this more peaceful alternative. If you want, I promise to accept your hugs with open arms.

Granted, I was expecting the whole “soup and a sermon” bit. I had read about the pair and the corporation they raised, quite literally, from an abandoned gas station in Burlington, Vermont in 1978. I knew that social activism and anti-war rhetoric was simply a part of their brand. And, frankly, I knew that I liked their ice cream enough to sit and listen to them talk for an hour.

Though I came with limited expectations (other than some good Chunky Monkey) and I disagreed with some of their logic, Ben and Jerry broadened my horizons and satisfied my sweet tooth.

Jerry began, and discussed the brand’s history and its rise into the fast-paced, mass-producing corporate world. He and Ben met in gym class in grade school and ended up starting a little ice cream shop because, as he put it, “We were failing at everything we tried to do.”

He defended the brand’s sale in 2000 to distributor Unilever as being a necessary evil, something that conflicted with their original mission yet was necessary to remain competitive and continue its growth.

“They have a very good sense of humor,” he joked of Unilever. “On the same day they bought Ben & Jerry’s they also bought Slim-Fast.”

The more he revealed about the rise of Ben & Jerry’s, the more it was clear that humor was not only a part of the quest, but was also responsible for the company’s success.

When the young brand was threatened by the larger Pillsbury Corporation that warned its distributors against carrying Ben & Jerry’s on the same trucks as competitor Häagen-Dazs, the two looked to grassroots methods of protest to regain their foothold. They launched their, “What’s the Doughboy Afraid Of?” campaign aimed at the consumer via advertisements, bumper stickers, T-shirts and even a spot on their own pint packaging.

Although their campaign was a success, they began to question their role as businessmen. But they needed money and sought to provide stock options to Vermont residents rather than accept offers from venture capitalists. They were staying true to their founding values.

This wasn’t enough. They wanted to be different from other corporations, he said, in that they would value social responsibility just as much as they did their profit margin. After some fine-tuning of this new, dual bottom-line, the team was able to “integrate” its social and environmental concerns in a way that would not only maximize sales but also prove that a corporation could commit itself to social responsibility. Plus, it would make for a kick-ass, albeit highly criticized, marketing program.

“We are all interconnected,” Jerry said. “And as we help others we can’t help but to be helped in return.” That meant giving 7.5 percent of the company’s pre-tax profits to social causes, which makes them a top charitable donor among public companies.

Jerry’s delivery showed he had clearly given this speech before. As did Ben, who spoke next. Rather than expand on the history and company philosophy as Jerry had, Ben used all-too-familiar liberal rhetoric.

In short, Ben criticized the large percentage of the federal budget allocated for defense spending. To him and his team of political advisers, the budget is reflective of Cold War-era initiatives. Rather than spend this money on national defense, he said, it could be spent much more effectively on social programming.

Ben & Jerry take out the Oreos. Photo by the author.

Ben and Jerry are children of the Great Society, something Jerry hinted at when mentioning the pair’s reluctance to take on the roles of profit-driven business leaders.

To illustrate this, Ben brought out Oreo cookies. Stacking them up to represent the breakdown of the federal budget, it was clear the extent to which the allocation was skewed. Yes, the United States spends a fortune (68 Oreos worth, that is) on keeping our arsenals stocked and up to date. But that’s not to say world hunger, community development or human services aren’t on the government’s list. Their political advising team says that six of these 68 Oreos aren’t necessary, so Ben “redistributed” them to areas of interest to the company’s mission of social responsibility.

“We are the world’s only superpower,” Ben said, illustrating that our defense budget is bloated and disproportionate to our needs.

With about half of the federal budget funneled into the Pentagon, Ben recommended campaign finance reform. Fair enough. As he sees it, the support the defense industry gives to candidates is directly responsible for the leaning tower of Oreos on the stage table.

Their logic may be skewed, but there is no arguing that Ben and Jerry’s business plan will continue pushing them forward. Read more into their history and you’ll see that capitalism was the key to their early success. Listen to them speak and you’ll see that the “dual bottom line” is what they want to drive the company forward.

Hello devoted readers! Many of you have submitted questions concerning the Thanksgiving holidays, the most patriotic of all holidays since Independence Day. Here are some of the most frequently asked questions I have received:

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

Whenever I go anywhere, I bring only the clothes on my back, and whatever I can fit into my stick and bindle, which includes (but is not limited to) my harmonica, straw hat, vampire repellant anti-zombie shotgun and my Zune (because iPods are for chumps). And if you’re a true patriot like I am, then you eschew regulation and listen to your music before takeoff, and during landing. So what if I mess with the signal? I’m guessing that “Go Go Power Rangers” is better listening than proper landing coordinates.

Bottom line: Packing is easy, just bring the essentials. And besides, when I ran out of clothes the last time I went home for the holidays, I just showed up to Thanksgiving dinner naked. Show off your hot bod for the family!

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

Getting to the airport can be quite a hassle, especially if you’re going to O’Hare. Doing this without blowing a lot of cash is key. There’s always the El and other trains if you’re feeling cheap, but it’s a huge time suck, and the last time I was on the El, I got mugged by a crazy man claiming to be Bozo the Clown. This I know to be untrue, as the real Bozo has manic-depressive disorder and spends most of his free time creating macramé of the ways he can end his pathetic existence. There are also taxis, but they tend to smell, and if you’re a backseat driver like I am, then you could end up stranded halfway to your destination with only the things you have in your pockets. But I tend not to like either of those options. The best way I find to get to the airport involves a little bit of creativity and a nightstick. Yes, I am talking about hijacking cars. But I don’t like to call it hijacking. It’s more like borrowing because you need it more than the current driver. Just tell the driver where you’re going and give him some cash as recompense. I’m sure the driver will understand; the holidays are stressful on everyone.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

You have just been living in a small room with another person for three months, so you should know how to deal with this. The difference here is that this is YOUR room, and you need to assert your status as dominant male in the room (or female, if you’re a girl). Mark your territory and make sure the hobo knows what’s what. You could go the dog route, and piss all over the place, but that’s not exactly sanitary, so I prefer stakes with torches on the end. Also, you’ll probably have to do some cleaning, and reclaim the bed. Just don’t get intimidated — that’s a sign of weakness, and if you don’t raise your game, you could be sleeping outside in the hobo’s place.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan A. Penrod,

Instead of offering a lists of dos, I think it would be better to inform you of things not to do to impress your relatives. For example, although being good at beer pong is really cool at college, showing your Aunt Marian how you can sink the final cup using a macaroon and a wine glass is not proper etiquette at the dinner table. Similarly, teaching your younger cousin Franklin how to properly use a beer funnel might anger some relatives. And although you might think the dinner table needs some energy, starting the Northwestern fight song might be considered rude.

Dear Sir or Madam,

Ryan A. Penrod

Dear Ryan,

No. I cannot help you.

Sincerely,

Sir or Madam.

I can honestly say that I love Florence and that I’m very glad to be spending my time abroad here, but sometimes it seems a little small. Rome, on the other hand, has somehow been able to maintain the feel of an enormous living and working city in spite of its very apparent tourist industry. Even though I only spent two days there, I fell instantly in love with it.

Part of Rome’s appeal for me is its modernity, but reminders of its history are everywhere. Monumental ruins left from the Roman empire are scattered throughout the city. Our first stop was the Vatican. We rushed past pre-Renaissance altarpieces in order to focus on what our guide considered the highlights: paintings by Raphael such as “The School of Athens,” a hallway full of ancient maps of Italy and marble copies of Roman statues that were originally bronze. The sheer amount of items was astonishing: room after room was full of priceless art. And of course, we visited the Sistine Chapel.

My first impression was that the ceiling was smaller than I had imagined, but upon entering the room, it still has an immediate impact. Michelangelo’s figures have such weight and life to them, and the colors are as bright as they were when painted, thanks to a recent restoration. Patches on the ceiling that were left untouched for comparison are nearly black with soot and dust. Saints and biblical figures surround the main panels, which portray the story of Genesis in increasingly large and expressive figures. I stared upwards at the ceiling so long that my neck began to hurt, and I still could have spent longer taking in every detail.

Next was St. Peter’s Basilica. Nothing could have prepared me for the sheer immensity of the cathedral. The dome was the largest in the world until the 19th century, and letters near the ceiling that appear quite small are actually six feet high. An unimaginable amount of marble and gold went into its construction. Interestingly, there was not a single painting inside. Instead, there are sculptures and micro-mosaics so detailed it seems impossible that human hands could have manipulated the miniscule stones into place.  Michelangelo had a hand in the basilica’s construction as well; he designed the dome, and his Pieta (my favorite of his statues) rests inside. None of the copies of this statue I have seen achieve the softness and sadness created by Michelangelo’s hand. The sculpture may be made of marble, but the Madonna and Jesus seem fragile and human. Bulletproof glass protects the duo, as a consequence of an incident involving a mentally disturbed geologist with a hammer (thankfully, the damage was reparable).

The second day we visited the Colosseum, symbol of the Roman Empire. Unfortunately, due to an earthquake, much of the Colosseum has been destroyed, and what remains is bolstered with brick — but it is of course still a grand sight. Standing inside and looking upwards around the arena, I was able to somewhat imagine the crowds and the bloodthirsty games that had taken place, although I have to admit I’m now itching to rewatch Gladiator and see the arena reconstructed as it must have been.

The Pantheon and the Roman Forum were just as breathtaking. The forum originally served as a city square, full of the remnants of temples, basilicas and arches. Surveying the forum, it is undeniable that ancient Rome was an advanced and powerful civilization. A column inscribed with “umbilicus urbis romae” sums up Rome’s influence at that time: Rome was the absolute nucleus, or “navel of the world.” The ruins of the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine in particular made an impact on me. As the largest building in the forum, the walls and vaults that remain are impressively gigantic. When our guide told us that these ruins are only a third of the original basilica, I was absolutely blown away. I found myself wishing I could go back two thousand years in time, just for a moment, and witness the city in its prime.

One of our last stops was to the Trevi Fountain, an incredible classical structure which flows seemlessly into a series of waterfalls and statues at its base. Oceanus stands in the center in the middle of a shell, while tritons tame seahorses on either side of him. There is a myth that anyone throwing a coin into the fountain is ensured a return to Rome, so metal glints everywhere beneath the water. One of those coins belongs to me.

Read Kari’s previous post | Meet the rest of our study abroad bloggers

My sociology professor would kill me if she read this post.

She’s always saying three months is not enough time to pass judgment on an entire culture, that we’re too Americanized to admit that our way might not be the best and that our arguments aren’t nuanced enough.

Of course, she’s completely right.

But alas, for I am prone to grand sweeping statements and while I shall fervently try to give nuanced accounts of our cultural differences, I fully expect my brash American-ness to peek its way out.

Bearing that in mind, allons-y.

***

Difference number one: Schools, or why I am proud to be a Wildcat.

In France, there is no Ivy League. Universities are free, therefore none are considered to be “better” than others. Also, professors are employees of the state and as a result have job security for life. They can never be fired.

I do not like the French university system (Grand Sweeping Statement #1). And it’s not because it flies in the face of capitalism (America: where we capitalize on our children’s futures). On the contrary, all the aforementioned aspects of the French education system provide a solid basis for arguing why it is better than that of the States.

But nobody seems proud to go to the Sorbonne. There are no school colors, no sports teams to root for even when they miss the field goal that costs you the Alamo Bowl. There is no real “campus”. And I hope you understood everything the professor said in class, because office hours and friendly after-discussion section chats are a thing of mythology. I guess when you don’t have to fight for tenure, you don’t generally need to worry about responding to students’ emails.

The French apparently find our university system shocking. Students who pay for their education become clients of the university, and they can’t imagine paying for what they believe everyone should have for free. Fair. But the idea of students evaluating professors is similarly horrifying: that is simply not our place. Our job is to go to class, do our work and try not to question the professor too much. And while a new bill in CAESAR is one of the more torturous things this world has to offer, if I am not presented with a product I find satisfactory, I can easily take my money elsewhere.

Difference number two: Religion, or why you can’t wear your yarmulke to class.

Secularism is a tricky beast. “Grosse affaire” as my professor likes to say. Oh, this one really gets the American exchange students all riled up. All religious symbols are completely forbidden in state-owned buildings which includes (drumroll please) public schools.

That’s right. No hijabs, no crosses, no yarmulkes. In France, religion is for private life. In the public sphere, they believe religion divides and offends people, and the easiest way to avoid conflict is by leaving these differences at home. There have been many circular arguments regarding this policy in my sociology class (most of which can be summed up by “But it’s just so un-American!”) but I’m not sure it’s such a bad idea.

I’m all for freedom of religion and celebrating our differences, and I genuinely enjoy learning about different belief systems. That said, it’s impossible to please everyone. Wearing a cross is one thing, but how about including Intelligent Design in school curriculum? After all, some people don’t believe in evolution. What about Muslim students who pray five times a day? Should we let them leave class? And after all that, where does it end? I don’t know. But I don’t think a country where we swear on the Bible in a court of law has the best possible handle on the separation of church and state.

Difference number three: Male/female relations, or the dubious hypocrisy of American feminism

Yes, Parisian men will blatantly stare at girls on the Metro and catcall them in the streets. Don’t talk to guys in bars, and holy restraining order, don’t give them your phone number. The rule given to us by our program: “If you kiss him, you are his girlfriend. If you kiss him twice, you’re meeting the mother the next day.”

Mindful of that, you may find it interesting (as I did) to discover that marriage rates in France are fairly low. One out of five French children is born out of wedlock. A lot of times the French, especially young people, prefer to have l’union libre: to live and sometimes raise a family together without being married. There is also a version of a civil union in France called the PACS which, though intended for homosexual couples, has ended up being widely used by heterosexual couples who don’t believe in marriage. Apparently, this stems from career-driven feminists (GSS #2).

What my professor wants to know is: how can American women be so gung-ho about equal rights, breaking glass ceilings and independence but still fantasize about the day a guy gets down on one knee in a restaurant and offers her a ring?

“If any guy tried that with me, I’d walk out of the restaurant,” she said.

Well, maybe we don’t dream of marriage anymore. Divorce rates being what they are, perhaps the sensible thing is just to marry our careers. Or maybe we’re all just secretly dying to wrap ourselves in white taffeta and fling ourselves down an aisle.

Or (perhaps more likely) maybe feminism and marriage aren’t mutually exclusive.

***

I used to wonder if I was born in the wrong country. Maybe if I moved to France I would find that I just fit better there. Maybe another culture had already found the answers to the all the questions I couldn’t quite figure out. And yes, I like to think being here has expanded my mind, at least somewhat.

But I am American, and I always will be. No matter how well I understand different perspectives, I will always see everything through a star spangled lens. C’est la vie.

Well, Professor Fesdjian, I did my best.

Read Julie’s previous post l Meet the rest of our study abroad bloggers

Zoe will be in Jerusalem, Israel until January 2.

Yitzhak Rabin is Israel’s John F. Kennedy: a fighter for change, a symbol of hope and an assassinated national leader, forever engraved in national memory as a pioneer for peace.

On November 4, 1995, Rabin was murdered by Yigal Amir, a radical, religious Jew.  Amir dissented with the strides Rabin took for peace, particularly signing the Oslo Accords. Territorial concessions are an issue tied closely with religion, as the conservative religious parties do not believe in giving up the Biblical Kingdom of Israel.  Rabin led the left-wing Labor Party and won the Nobel Peace Prize for the strides he took in the peace process with late Palestinian leader Yassir Arafat.

The night Rabin was assassinated he sang Shir LaShalom (a song for peace) at a rally supporting the Oslo process in the square that now bears his name. Minutes after he descended from the podium he was shot three times as he was entering his car. He died hours later in Ichilov Hospital in Tel Aviv.

Saturday night I participated in the 14th Memorial Rally of his life and legacy.  The current President Shimon Peres, the Opposition Leader Tzipi Livni and Rabin’s daughter Dalia were some of the notable speakers.  Barack Obama recorded a video message that played on the jumbo-tron.  Numerous nationally acclaimed singers contributed various anthems for peace.  All preached similar messages of dialogue and understanding as the pathway to peace.

I was very excited to attend the rally.  I think of peace as the only unifying thread in the politically fractured Israeli society.  Peace is the shared goal with varying strategies for accomplishment.  Some are ready to return control of the territories while others view religious devotion as the means.

When I arrived at the rally my friends and I were quick to deck ourselves with free signs and bumper stickers with the slogan “Peace Now”.  However, I soon realized that this was not just a hopeful message. “Peace Now” is the slogan of the far left wing party, Meretz.  Meretz and Avoda, the Labor Party, had huge floating banners and signs around the square.  Nearly all the Israelis filling the square wore T-shirts affiliated with a given political party of youth movement.

Many would call Rabin Israel’s leader with the best chance for accomplishing peace with the Palestinians in the State’s history. I was disappointed that the rally celebrating his legacy had turned into a shameless display of politicking.

Read Zoe’s previous post. | Meet the rest of our study abroad bloggers.

Just two months ago, we closed down Michigan Avenue for your 24th season premiere party. More than 20,000 of your loyal fans surprised you with the biggest ‘flashmob’ dance in history when the Black Eyed Peas performed “I Gotta Feeling.” We wanted to make you proud.

When you said, “That is the coolest thing ever… Chicago, I love you.” we took your words to heart.

Oprah, why don’t you love us anymore? Photo by nayrb7 on Flickr, licensed under the Creative Commons.

As a loyal viewer of your show, member of your book club, and reader of O Magazine, I am shocked and hurt by the recent rumors that you will be leaving Chicago.

With all the support that Chicago has shown for you over the years, how can you even consider leaving?

You even flew to Copenhagen to rally support for Chicago’s Olympic bid. Now you’re going to pack up and flee to the star-studded sunny beaches of L.A.? Don’t tell me that the International Olympic Committee convinced you that Chicago is unworthy of your affection.

Occasionally big movies like The Dark Knight or Public Enemies film in Chicago and that can be exciting. But those moments are fleeting and rare. Nothing can compare to having our very own beloved celebrity, philanthropist and media mogul right in our backyard.

Why do we love you? You represent all the possibility of this country for those naïve enough to hold onto the “American Dream.” Despite your unbelievable talent and success, you can somehow still relate to us ordinary folks. Don’t you remember celebrating President Obama’s election with us in Grant Park last year?

Perhaps more importantly, for Chicago’s foodies, you introduced us to Art Smith. Few celebrities would be kind enough to share their personal chef with an entire city. As the success of Table Fifty-Two demonstrates, Chicago is clearly just as in love with Smith’s southern comfort food as you are.

After failing in our bid for the 2016 Olympics, to lose you too is more than Chicago can bear. Leaving us now, in our moment of weakness, would be as cruel as cutting off funds to your girls’ school in Africa. Isn’t there some clause in your contract that stipulates that you aren’t allowed to be mean?

What must we do to reignite your love affair with Chicago?

You don’t belong in Hollywood. L.A. already has the Lakers, Disneyland and more than its share of celebrities. It’s just not fair if L.A. gets you too. Plus, they wouldn’t appreciate you in L.A. the way we do in Chicago. Do you think they would let you close down Rodeo Drive for your own personal block party?

Yes, you want to start your cable network, OWN: The Oprah Winfrey Network, with Discovery. That’s all fine and dandy, and we here in Chicago fully support the expansion of your multimedia empire. Which begs the question: why can’t you start OWN right here in Chicago? You know the city would do everything that it possibly can to support you. While it may be easier in L.A., you can surely found a cable network in Chicago. You’re Oprah — the most powerful woman in the world.

Of course, your mouthpiece at Harpo says that you have not yet made a decision. If this is true, I hope that you remember your relationship with Chicago and consider staying in the city that loves you best.

My mom and I have yet to see a taping of your show live, despite many futile attempts at registering for audience tickets on your website. If you leave, will we be reduced to going to see Judge Mathis?

Your ever hopeful fan,

Amber

Last Saturday, it became apparent that some of our current Fathers were also being a little hypocritical. As they sat down to create health care coverage for all Americans, the House of Representatives debated whether their plan should cover abortion. Should all women have the equal right to receive quality reproductive health care? Not yet, they decided. The Stupak/Pitts amendment to the legislation stipulates that any insurance plan covered by federal money cannot cover abortion, and it passed (ironically with the help of normally pro-choice representatives) 220-215.

The issue, of course, is larger than mere hypocrisy. Pro-life legislators would have never voted on health care reform with abortion coverage included, and the legislation would have never left the House. As the bill awaits discussion in the Senate, pro-choice Democrats are faced with a tough moral dilemma: whether it is better to make progress in some areas while hindering it in others. Is it acceptable to compromise some values so that others prevail?

Many House Democrats answered this by voting — 177 out of 194 Democrats that voted Nay on the Stupak/Pitts Amendment then voted Yes on the entire health care bill, amendment included. With health care reform so close, they seemed to think that the abortion amendment was not worth fighting over.

Speaker Nancy Pelosi, an ardent supporter of reproductive rights, decided last Friday to allow a vote on the adoption of strict abortion coverage regulations to the bill. To win the votes of conservative Democrats needed to pass health care reform, the speaker felt the amendment was necessary. Politico justified that she is “more ruthlessly practical than her frequent caricature as an activist, upper-crust liberal from San Francisco would suggest.” Pelosi had her eye on a prize for which she had to pull strings to win.

Other pro-choice Dems were outraged. “This amendment takes away that same freedom of conscience from America’s women. It invades women’s personal decisions,” said Rep. Rosa DeLauro, D-Conn. in a New York Times article. The San Francisco Chronicle politics blog quoted Rep. Jan Schakowsky, D-Ill calling the amendment “ridiculous” and Rep. Barbara Lee, D-Calif saying it will “‘take us back to the days of back-alley abortions,’ and is a dangerous intrusion of religion into the state.”

Pro-choice representatives resisted a vote on the amendment with strong emotions deeply rooted in a more than 30-year struggle to further abortion rights. “This was like making pro-choice democrats choose between their children,” says Jordan Fein, president of Northwestern University College Democrats.

But most of these angry Democrats voted to pass the whole enchilada anyway. They seemed flaky by first fighting passionately against the amendment and then voting for a bill including it, but pro-choice Dems figured they would vote in favor of the House bill and later fight for changes when the final legislation is negotiated with the Senate. According to the same Politico article, Rep. Louise M. Slaughter, D-N.Y. rationalized before the health care vote, “I don’t believe any of us believe we can hold up what we’ve been fighting for [...] and that’s health care.”

The legislation places pro-choice Democrats in a difficult position. “Getting a comprehensive health care reform bill passed is incredibly important. The process would sort of lose momentum if it were to be delayed any further,” says Emily Raymond, Co-director of Northwestern University College Feminists. It was likely that the Dems would lose on both fronts if they tried to fight the two battles at once.

And it’s not like major abortion rights victories were overturned. Jasmin Avila, president of Northwestern Students for Life, feels that the Stupak/Pitts Amendment is a mere reaffirmation of the 1976 Hyde Amendment, which banned Medicaid-funded abortion except in cases of rape, incest, or if the woman’s life is endangered. “It doesn’t speak to the future legality or illegality of abortion. It simply prevents abortion from being government funded,” she says.

But Fein says the new amendment could do more damage than reaffirm an existing law; it builds on Hyde, curtailing abortion rights even further. “This amendment basically tells people if they want to have health insurance, they’re not going to be able to spend their own money on abortion,” he says.

Ellen R. Malcolm, president of Emily’s List, an organization that works to elect pro-choice Democratic women to office, blogged on The Huffington Post that private insurers who participate in the government health insurance exchange would not be able to cover abortion, which is currently available in many private plans. Many also argue that women with low socioeconomic status will be negatively targeted and that private insurance companies will no longer have incentive to offer abortion coverage.

The pro-choice Dems will have another chance to defeat the Stupak/Pitts Amendment in the Senate. Women’s rights organizations are gearing up to lobby for a fight that they feel cannot be lost. Fein is not optimistic, though, since the Senate tends to be more conservative than the House. Raymond also has doubts. “There are enough people in Congress who don’t respect reproductive rights and don’t even want a comprehensive health care bill to be passed in the first place,” she says. “I think it might be kind of an uphill battle at this point.” According to TheHill.com, however, 40 legislators promised to oppose the final health care bill if the current language on abortion is included. Only time will tell.

As we wait, perhaps Congress should consider the consequences of our forefathers’ decision. Instead of being dealt with behind Convention doors, the slavery issue was eventually resolved in the form of the Civil War. Although it will never be clear whether this war was inevitable, it does evoke the question of what will happen down the road if the abortion issue is continuously left on the backburner.

“I will be there I hate overly religious people so I will definitely come.”

Not only was it a poorly constructed run-on, but this kid’s reasoning struck a nerve. Okay, I thought, I’m not a huge fan of religion either, but I would never protest people for simply possessing an organized belief system (if this were only what the issue were about). Furthermore, wasn’t this supposed to be about LGBT support? Conflating these two ideas seemed to demean the whole point of protesting these people. This kid didn’t know his enemy. It’s not the institution of organized religion — it’s extremism masquerading as God’s word.

If you’ve heard of the Westboro Baptist Church, you’ll know that it’s not a religious institution — it’s a bona fide hate group and should be treated as such. They’re the ones who proliferate intolerance across the country by picketing military funerals and standing outside synagogues telling Jewish people that God hates them.

Any organization whose domain name is godhatesfags isn’t real religion — it’s pure hate. And anyone who says otherwise is a downright bigot. We have to realize that hate isn’t a prerequisite for any faith. When it’s been bastardized to the point of absolute intolerance or lethal violence, it’s no longer religion, it’s just plain extremism. But differentiating between the two will help us to understand against whom we should really be fighting.

The commenter on the message board isn’t the only one guilty of immediately linking religion with fanaticism. The conflation of religion with extremism has recently been highlighted in the Fort Hood shootings in Texas. The sheer horror and tragedy of the killings is being lost in the midst of arguing about whether the shooter, Major Nidal Malik Hasan, was a Muslim. One thing to bear in mind is that there is the broader idea of terrorism that Americans have become accustomed to (e.g. Al Qaeda), and then there are individual acts of terrorism. Being Muslim certainly isn’t a terrorist prerequisite. Timothy McVeigh, a US Army veteran, committed one of the most horrific acts of domestic terrorism in modern American history when he bombed the Alfred P. Murrah Building in Oklahoma City in 1995. In modern times, though, terrorists are automatically associated with Islam and vice versa.

Any evidence that shows that Hasan murdered 13 innocent people in the name of Islam has to be countered with the undeniable fact that if he did, he was not honoring Islam by any means. This fervor is now just detracting from the tragedy, and Muslims groups are being forced to condemn what they already know is horrendous. Organizations such as the Council on American-Islamic Relations immediately released statements denouncing the acts.

“I believe it’s most important to make note that the Muslim community responded [...] appropriately to condemn and contrast the shooter’s actions from how Muslims live in accordance to Islam,” wrote Gerald Hankerson, Outreach Director of CAIR-Chicago, in an e-mail. “The support coming from interfaith and social service groups for the Muslim community and organizations testifies that American Muslims have reached out to share [...] how they live in this nation with our neighbors and fellow citizens.  Verily, both Muslims and the American public should do more and continue working to sincerely engage our communities and dispel falsehoods, alleviate alienating communities and cease double standards in unveiling truths so our nation’s peace and security will prevail, further influencing hearts and minds abroad.”

Organizations like Westboro Baptist Church and people like Nidal Malik Hasan make it difficult for those already skeptical of religion to remember to separate the good from the outrageous and extreme. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an urge to punch the crap out of everyone who showed up outside my school with a “God Hates Fags” sweatshirt. But then I remember that these people don’t represent Christianity and they should be ashamed to call themselves Christian. If we want to make the strongest case against acts of extremism, we have to target the right people in the right way.