His life work
As the new director of Respect Life, Lee Grossi could change the
abortion
debate in Rhode Island forever
by Jeff Nussbaum
Lee Grossi, the new director of the Catholic Diocese of Providence's Respect
Life Office, just may be a saint. His resume is a veritable list of worthy
causes, his involvement in each in the name of social justice. He is on the
steering committee of the Rhode Island Community Food Bank, and he participates
in Operation Undercover, a program to provide needy children with clean
undergarments and diapers. He serves on the board of the Little Flower Home for
unwed mothers in Harrisville, and he and his wife have been foster parents for
Catholic Social Services.
He twice worked for the state Department of Children, Youth & Families
(DCYF), most recently as an associate director. Jay Lindgren, director of DCYF,
speaks glowingly of Grossi, calling him a compassionate man who infused his
role, which was largely financial, with a deep commitment to the mission of the
agency.
And yet there are those who fear Grossi. They fear him as a zealot who will
soon become the most powerful force in the fight to end a woman's right to
choose an abortion in Rhode Island.
State Representative Sandy Barone (D-Barrington) says that Grossi makes the
abortion debate a more formidable battle. State Senator Rhoda Perry (D-
Providence) goes even further, saying that his new position at Respect Life is
a continuation of the Catholic Church's efforts to win monopolistic influence
over a diverse legislature.
Others fear him because his administrative experience with the state may give
him access and influence among state legislators. Also, with the manpower and
resources he now commands, Grossi will be able to influence public policy in a
way that could change the abortion debate in this state forever.
So who is Lee Grossi?
He is all of these things -- a pious and devoted man, a competent
administrator, and someone who is deeply committed to social justice. He is
also a pugnacious, unwavering fighter who will dedicate himself completely to
the projects he takes on. Since June 30, he has been the director of the
Respect Life Office, a new entity, fusing four functions previously carried out
within separate branches of the diocese.
Respect Life's goal, according to Grossi, is to implement the Pastoral Plan
for Pro-Life Activities, a policy paper from the National Conference of
Catholic Bishops that is meant to inform, educate, and unite all Catholics, and
ultimately all citizens, in the defense of life. Grossi's mission, then,
includes everything from trying to provide adequate housing for poor people and
fighting for the rights of unborn babies to pushing for welfare reform that
preserves the dignity of the welfare recipient.
Grossi stresses all of these things and notes that respecting life is
necessary in all of its stages and situations, including its last. (The office
is against assisted suicide.) The Pastoral Plan, however, makes it clear that
the primary focus of an office like Respect Life should be abortion.
"Among the many important issues involving the dignity of human life with
which the Church is concerned, abortion necessarily plays a central role.
Abortion's direct attack on innocent human life is precisely the kind of
violent act that can never be justified," it reads.
Today, the Respect Life Office has the resources and the man at the helm to
put a gentle face on such divisive issues. It seems a recipe for success.
The man at the helm
At first glance, Lee Grossi seems an unlikely candidate for the
position. Although he has spent the majority of his professional life in state
government, colleagues don't recall his taking a visible position on heated
issues.
The youngest of three children, Grossi and his family moved to Rhode Island
from the small town of Cesano, Italy, when he was seven years old. Although his
father had been a farmer in Italy, both parents took textile and factory jobs
in order to give their children an education and a chance for a better life.
Grossi realized their dream, earning a bachelor's degree in economics from
Providence College and a master's degree in public administration from the
University of Rhode Island. In the process, he created in himself the kind of
rift that separates generations -- Grossi encompassed both the new and old
worlds, holding an advanced degree and sophisticated training in public policy
as well as the memory of a simpler life guided by unmalleable beliefs.
Conflicts between the private and the public Grossi began to surface when he
became the first administrator of RIte Care. As part of a team setting up the
state's Medicaid managed-care program four years ago, Grossi dealt with issues
involving women's health, birth control, and rape counseling. The professional
and personal were colliding for him, and those who didn't share his feelings
say they felt the heat.
Judith Allonby is a former attorney for Rhode Island Legal Services who worked
with Grossi on RIte Care. She says he publicly insulted people who crossed him
and berated those who questioned his work or his beliefs. Allonby saw Grossi as
someone who didn't care if his initiatives harmed her clients.
"The idea that he is doing something called respect life is a joke," she says.
Included in the first RIte Care program were a change in the
Medicaid-eligibility rules that denied 1000 kids coverage and another that
denied women younger than 18 access to rape crisis centers without first
consulting their HMO.
The fact that Grossi is heading up an organization that touches the lives of
women distresses Allonby even more, because she saw Grossi as someone who had
little respect for his female co-workers.
Here again, the two sides of Lee Grossi emerge. State Senator Thomas Izzo
(D-Cranston) is the pro-choice chairman of the Senate Health, Education, and
Welfare Committee. He has known Grossi in both a personal and professional
capacity for years and disagrees with Allonby's view. "That has not been my
experience. Lee has the capacity to have good conversations and listen," Izzo
says. "You can disagree in an agreeable fashion with Lee."
The making of RIte Care is now history, and Grossi seems ready for his new
job, one that has him pushing the envelope on some highly visible issues. He
credits his heightened commitment to social justice to a continuing process of
enlightenment that culminated in 1978, when he formed a personal relationship
with Christ, he says, and heard the gospel call to social justice.
Although Grossi won't specify the significance of 1978, it is the year the
governor asked him to serve on a team to implement a federal court order to
improve state prison conditions. Perhaps the squalor and lack of dignity
afforded the prisoners touched Grossi, or perhaps it was that in a
sophisticated man such as Grossi, who believed in basic morality, public and
private could no longer be separated. Either way, Grossi was moved, and he has
now embraced a job that will make social justice his primary obligation.
Size matters
Although Grossi's deep personal commitment to the issues in which he is
involved is without question, it is his political connectedness that
abortion-rights advocates fear most.
When Grossi was the state budget director, he appeared numerous times before
the Senate and House Finance committees, forming relationships with many of the
legislators. Sources within the State House remember his being there "virtually
everyday" during budget season.
As chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, Michael Lenihan (D-East
Greenwich) has had Lee Grossi testify before him many times. He notes that
Grossi is known in the Senate by a number of the committee chairs.
In a professional context, Lenihan found Grossi to be affable, honest, and an
excellent advocate for his position. As for Grossi's relationships within the
legislature, "any time you make contacts on a personal level, it carries over
into whatever your issue of the day is," says Lenihan. He is quick to stress,
however, that just knowing legislators does not mean they will go against their
constituencies and values to offer support.
Frances Kissling, president of Catholics for a Free Choice, a Washington,
DC-based organization of Catholics who support choice, notes that the national
trend has been for dioceses and the National Conference of Bishops to hire more
hard-liners than moderates. In Grossi, the Providence diocese may have found
both. "The bishops are savvy political players, and like many public-interest
groups, they hire from the government," says Kissling.
Although Grossi contends that he will not act as a lobbyist, he does recognize
his political experience as an asset. "We're part of one team now, and to the
extent that we can help each other, we're going to do that," he says. "If we're
trying to reach 150 senators and representatives and that requires a more
intensive effort, then I'm available to do that."
Indeed, the Respect Life Office is poised to be so powerful not just on the
strength of its leader but on the strength of its size. Today, 10 of an
expected 14 employees are in place, and they work with an annual operating
budget of $435,000. Of that money, $317,000 comes from the diocese, the rest
from donated funds.
While Grossi calls the overall sum "a responsible level of support," Frances
Kissling thinks that the size of the organization represents much more than a
"responsible level" of support.
"This is huge. There is no doubt in my mind that this is one of the largest
offices in the nation," she says. "I don't think they have 14 people in the
pro-life office in Washington, DC."
It is certainly huge as far as Rhode Island goes. Susan Closter-Godoy is the
chair of the Rhode Island Choice Coalition, an organization of pro-choice
groups that includes Planned Parenthood, the 2-to-1 Coalition, Voices for
Choice, and the Rhode Island office of the American Civil Liberties Union. When
asked about her group's activities in light of the Respect Life Office, she
responded that her organization is expanding, too. The expansion: one full-time
community-organizing position.
In other words, the Choice Coalition is waltzing into a gunfight with knives.
Not only are they outstaffed, but there is loss of efficiency in coordinating
all of these organizations -- a situation in sharp contrast to Respect Life's
streamlined, unified structure.
Form follows function
The Respect Life Office unites four preexisting offices under one roof.
An information and education branch conducts outreaches to the 156 parishes in
Rhode Island on everything from electoral awareness to family violence. The
pastoral-care branch provides counseling on alternatives to abortion and
natural family planning. "The church's response isn't that this [pregnancy] is
your problem. The church is there to help," says Grossi.
Project Rachel is the branch that provides post-abortion reconciliation. "Our
position is that we're not here to judge," he continues. "We think that the act
of abortion is immoral and sinful. The church's position is that we judge the
act - we never judge the person."
The final branch is the most visible -- the public-policy branch, which was
credited with forcing the General Assembly in June to pass a law banning
so-called partial-birth abortion. To accomplish this, Maria Parker, the
director of public policy, had at her command a database called life-net. Of
the 156 parishes in Rhode Island, 130 participate in this phone-tree program,
which amounts to thousands of people calling their legislators when important
public-policy issues, such as partial-birth abortion, arise.
Perry sees the efforts to affect policy as a continuation of the Providence
diocese's attempt to gain even greater influence over both the legislature and
the state, but Grossi stresses that his office's mission is to respect life at
all of its stages.
"The church believes in one consistent pro-life ethic -- that you respect life
in all of its forms. If we support a welfare-reform program that doesn't
respect the dignity of those [who] don't succeed in our capitalistic
environment, that's not respecting life. And if we're not involved in providing
adequate housing and services for these people, that's not respecting life," he
says.
But if the partial-birth abortion bill is any indicator, the church's focus is
clearly on changing policy, specifically abortion policy. State Representative
Sandy Barone became acquainted with the organization Grossi now runs during the
debate over the partial-birth abortion bill. After intense pressure from
Respect Life's public-policy branch and thousands of calls from people in
life-net, legislators passed the legislation after it was attached to a women's
health bill mandating a 48-hour hospital stay following a mastectomy.
Although Barone was the primary co-sponsor of that bill, she ultimately had to
vote against her own legislation once the partial-birth segment was attached.
The pro-life victory had people telling Barone that the pro-choice forces had
to get organized. She contends, however, that organization is not the problem.
"It's not that we're not well-organized -- it's that we don't have a pulpit to
preach from every Sunday and we don't have a newspaper that arrives at
everyone's door. [The Providence Visitor has a circulation of 40,000,
and every legislator receives a complementary copy.] In short, we don't have
the Catholic Church -- we don't have any church."
Still, Lee Grossi has a tough job ahead of him, especially in a state where
two-thirds of the population is Catholic and in a nation where an estimated 30
percent of all abortions are performed on women who call themselves Catholic.
When asked during a recent interview with the Phoenix if he likes the
job, a rare smile crosses Grossi's lips. It is a smile tinged with the
recognition of a daunting task ahead.
"These are very difficult issues that divide our society, and the only way to
accomplish our goal is by prayer and by education," he says. "The Supreme Court
decision, Roe v. Wade, which has been in existence for over 25 years,
isn't going to be overcome any other way."
When told that some abortion-rights advocates fear him, Grossi is noticeably
startled. He clearly does not want to be feared. "I've dedicated a large part
of my career . . . of my life, to child service."
Picking up a copy of the "Rhode Island Kids Count Factbook," Grossi turns to
the page on child deaths, and his voice gets very quiet. "If we have one death
from child abuse in a year, that's defined as a tragedy. If there's two child
deaths in a year, there's a concern as to whether the state is adequately
protecting children," he says. "And if there are three child deaths in a year,
there's an outcry that the system has to be changed."
His voice drops even lower and becomes almost inaudible. "Yet, if we have 5400
abortions in a year, we look the other way . . . Rather than giving my life to
trying to avoid one death, I'm going to try to do something more
significant."
The two Lee Grossis are now one, and this is what has abortion-rights
advocates so concerned.