Sarah Tarver-Wahlquist

I help people get abortions. 

We travel East each year to see my husband’s family in Pennsylvania, where we spend two weeks in the verdant, fertile, sticky forests and fields of the eastern states – eating fresh blackberries on the trail by the stream, fresh corn from the roadside stands, peaches that drip juice down your chin. It is glorious. The water, the leaves, the grass, the flowers bursting forth from every crack – life in every crack and corner.

Dear Editor: The other day I was driving home from dropping my children off at school, my toddler humming in his car-seat behind me. I was listening to a discussion on NPR about the 156 women who testified against Larry Nassar, a doctor who gained the trust of children and their families, and then used that trust to sexually abuse countless children. By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was stifling sobs. There is so much pain in the world. We hurt one another, we hurt the world around us, we hurt.

My family does a lot at our meeting. I currently serve as clerk of our First Day School Committee, co-clerk of our Kitchen Committee, and I also sit on our half-yearly meeting’s Continuing and Nominating Committees. My husband fills the arduous and time-consuming role of clerk for our meeting’s House Committee, which cares for the physical home of our meeting, a 100-year-old house that requires near constant upkeep, and he is a regular teacher in our First Day School rotation. Many nights each week, we compete for the computer after our kids are in bed, each of us trying to coordinate committee meetings or write reports or request quotes for purchases needed by the meeting. And we spend most First Days scurrying around the meetinghouse, preparing coffee, and chatting with people about committee work.