Pro-Voice

Preface

I was 24 years old, pregnant, scared, and unsure about what to do. I went out on a limb and told someone whom I didn’t know very well about my situation, only to discover a universal truth: we all have our own hidden stories.

It was the middle of summer and well past closing time in the downtown Berkeley bar where Polly Hancock and I worked together as bartenders. We were counting up the till and dividing our tips. When I didn’t partake in our customary end-of-shift drink, I couldn’t help but tell her why: “I’m not drinking because I’m pregnant. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet.” I don’t know what I thought she’d say or how I hoped she’d help. I just needed to tell someone.

I’ll never forget what happened. Without hesitation, she ...