The most pro-life thing we can do? Teach

It’s been three weeks since British MPs voted to decriminalise abortion, removing the possibility of prosecution for women who carry out an abortion at home ‘at any gestation’. This opens the door wide to the potential for abortion up to full term, and will undoubtedly lead to a rise in cases of this. Christians across the country and, indeed, around the world, were heartbroken about the outcome, knowing that in the UK the sanctity and value of the lives of the most vulnerable continues to be eroded.

In the UK in 2022 (the most recent available data) there were just over 250,000 abortions. This represented a 17% increase over a 12 month period.  98% of abortions carried out in 2022 were carried out because of a ‘risk to the woman’s mental health’ - this includes how an unwanted pregnancy will affect a woman’s mental health. There was also a 17% increase in the abortion rate for the least deprived decile - the greatest increase of all the levels of deprivation. These statistics make for bleak reading: we value the lives of the unborn less than ever before, and it doesn’t appear to be because women aren’t safe while they’re pregnant, or that they aren’t financially and practically ready; but simply that they just don’t want to have a baby.

The recent vote in Parliament legalised death in the name of compassion. While trying to show pregnant women compassion by categorising an unwanted pregnancy as a ‘risk to the woman’s mental health’, abortion removes any compassion for an unborn baby, and the child or young person it will become.

Talk for long with any pro-choice advocate and you’ll hear many of the same repeated arguments. My body, my choice. What about young girls who are pregnant through rape? And the accusation that pro lifers are really only pro birth. A conversation with an old school acquaintance about this issue contained all of these arguments. Although I refuted many of her points, it prompted me to think about the role we carry out as teachers, and the unarguably pro life nature of our job. 

If we really believe that all children, both in and out of the womb, are made in the image of God and have inherent worth and value, then let’s do our jobs in a way that really reflects this and helps our students to see it too. Behind all of the challenging behaviour, the frustrating attitudes and the apparent apathy that we might encounter, all of the children and young people in front of us were knit together by God in the womb, and their days are ‘ordained in [His] book before one of them came to be.’ Do we really believe that? And do we teach in a way that models this for our students to see, even when it’s really difficult?

One other point that my conversation with my acquaintance revealed was that, when she herself had an abortion aged 20 she simply ‘didn’t feel ready’ to have a baby. “I hadn’t finished my education, I had no job,” she said. “ I couldn’t have offered that child the quality of life it deserved.” As a teacher working in one of the most deprived areas in England, my concern is the dangerous implication that, somehow, not only would it have been better if parents in more deprived areas had reconsidered having their children, but that these parents care less, will do a worse job and that, by extension, that their children are worth less, and will be loved less in their more materially deprived settings. 

With this in mind, teaching becomes vitally pro life in areas of higher deprivation because it supports children and families who have chosen life despite lack of financial stability, or material resources, or a permanent home, or secure employment. Although abortion rates for women in more affluent areas are increasing, the rate of abortions remains the highest amongst the most deprived decile - twice as high as in some more wealthy cohorts. 

And so, while you might be accused of being only ‘pro-birth’, perhaps the most pro-life thing we can be doing right now is simply teaching—especially if you teach in an area of high deprivation: teaching the student whose family struggles to afford to put food on the table; caring for the student who is a carer themselves, for a vulnerable family member; taking the time to listen to a student who lives in a home marred by alcoholism, who feels like they don’t have a voice at all; having high aspirations for a child with limited positive role models in their home, but who would flourish when you have faith in them; praying for your students, their wellbeing, and their academic success.

Our students, just like any children or family members of our own, are fearfully and wonderfully made. If we really believe that, and live it out each day at work, this will be transformative. Many of us have seen this in the lives of our current and former students. It’s one tangible way that we can show compassion in the midst of a lack of compassion for the unborn and the life they might go on to live. 

So yes - of course - pray! Write to your MP, try to change hearts and minds through continued discussion with friends and colleagues who are pro-choice. But let’s not forget that the way we demonstrate children’s value and worth before the Lord is what we do day in, day out: teaching.

Amy is an English teacher in the North of England