Every fall, I make an attempt to clean my desk, and I’m always surprised by the interesting things I find tucked away under folders, bills, and Hershey bar wrappers.

Take, for instance, the newspaper clipping I saved about the Plan B “emergency contraception” pill. (Rochester Democrat and Chronicle; August 27, 2006) I highlighted this line: “According to figures cited by Planned Parenthood, nearly half of America’s 6 million annual pregnancies are accidental, and half of those are terminated by abortion.”

How, exactly, does one become pregnant by accident? With all of the money we spend on sex education in America, is it possible that millions of adults still don’t know how babies are made?

Or maybe they don’t actually know what sex is. (Not surprising, considering a certain former leader of the free world and his confusion on the subject.) Is it possible that these adults are going about their normal daily routines only to find out later they were accidentally engaging in the business of baby making?

Youth speaker Pam Stenzel used to tell teens that the only way you could accidentally have sex was if you were jogging down the street naked and collided with a member of the opposite sex who was also jogging down the street naked. Wham! That might be accidental sex.

Three million accidental pregnancies; that’s a lot of “oops babies.” Either I’ve failed to notice the throngs of naked joggers colliding on American roadways or we’ve raised a generation of extremely ignorant adults.

If that Planned Parenthood figure is right, and half of those accidental pregnancies end in abortion, what happens to the other unexpected 1.5 million babies who do get to pass “Go”?

Back in the olden days, when people had babies, even if they hadn’t planned on them, they at least pretended they wanted them, giving them useful jobs around the house, like milking cows and fighting Indians, so that they felt like part of the family. Nowadays, thanks to the wonders of modern technology, accidental parents can send their kids to day care, head on over to the office, and keep track of the unintended offspring with baby web cams.

Even better, according to a story in USA Today’s Weekend magazine (March 17-19, 2006), for about $20 an hour parents can hire a concierge to deliver Suzie to ballet, pick Johnny up from soccer, and even arrange play dates for the little tykes. Do you think June Cleaver would have opted for that service if it was available?

It all makes me wonder: what’s happened to the American family? Have our values changed that much since The Greatest Generation? Or was the motherhood and apple pie of days gone something our grandparents just accepted, not realizing they had any other choice?

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, of the reality show “Shalom In The Home,” says that, “Society with a 50 percent divorce rate cannot call itself civilized.” (Rochester Democrat and Chronicle; April 22, 2006) We already know Americans can’t commit to marriage and now we learn that we’re spawning like rabbits. It does sound a little uncivilized, doesn’t it?

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get into such a serious discussion with this month’s column, but I stumbled across these article clippings while I was cleaning my desk and they got me thinking.

Although, if I’m being totally honest, I didn’t really mean to clean my desk, either. I spilled some tea and had to move the stacks of folders to wipe up the mess. I didn’t know what I’d find under there.

It was an accident. Honest.


Freelance writer and columnist Joanne Brokaw lives in Western New York where she spends her time dreaming of things she’d like to do but probably never will - like swimming with dolphins, cleaning the attic, and someday overcoming the trauma of elementary school picture day. Visit her online at www.joannebrokaw.com.

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