The first time I marched in Washington, D.C., for women’s rights I was in a stroller being pushed down the National Mall. The next time I was 16 years old, in a wheelchair with a broken foot, but still determined to participate in the March for Women’s Lives, the same rally for reproductive rights I had been too young to walk in before.

My sign was made from a piece of discarded cardboard and a ballpoint pen. I carved my message deeply into the board, as if to leave a scar: What’s Next, the 19th Amendment?

I sat on the National Mall with my sign in my lap, surrounded by my mother, aunt and brother, and watched as the other marchers organized themselves. One woman approached me to take a picture.

“Your sign means more to me than you’ll ever know,” she said.

As the culture wars that threaten women’s reproductive rights have reignited in recent weeks, I keep returning to that moment in my memory. And I realize all over again how the freedoms and choices we have come to take for granted really are so fragile.

Beliefs about reproductive rights are often religious and always deeply personal. I grew up in a household where they were considered as important as the right to vote (as my sign indicated on that beautiful April day). For me it was a given that the civil rights my parents and grandparents’ generations had fought for would be cast in cement — forever.

But this latest round of explosive dialogue around reproductive rights marks the first time in my young adult life that I have realized that this is not the case, and that what I believed to be permanent and unshakable must in fact be defended and protected.

And what seems to be missing from the discussion are not the voices of the extremists — there are many of those and they are loud — but the varied voices of the younger generation. I want to hear more voices like the Georgetown University law student who testified before Congress about contraception and insurance rules. I want to hear the voices of young women and men who have not been asked their opinions on the matter.

I want to hear the voices of young Vineyarders sitting around the table at a potluck dinner on a cold winter night, in earnest discussion while the steam from home-cooked food warms their faces.

But I am not hearing them because somehow reproductive rights have become a taboo subject for my generation. And why? This is about our bodies, our health, our rights and our voting power. How can we stand by idly while the debate goes on without us?

This week I sat on a couch with a close friend and listened to her opinions about abortion and contraception. I knew going into the conversation that our beliefs were on opposite sides of the matter; while I was attending the March for Women’s Lives, she was attending the March for Life. But I listened with respect, and learned something.

And the most important thing I learned is that there is a way to engage in conversation over these difficult issues and contribute our opinions in a respectful and thoughtful way. Sometimes all it takes is a cup of tea and an open mind.