No one has ever asked me directly, but sometimes when I’m traveling (or, more recently, am on Facebook), I see in their eyes the unspoken question: Why on earth would anybody want to live in Alabama?

I hadn’t seen that look in a while. But then along came the Alabama Supreme Court with its ruling that embryos created through in vitro fertilization — IVF, for short — are people.

Some analysts said justices thought they were doing the politically astute thing, seeing as how many religious conservatives (and there are a whole lot of them in Alabama) contend that life begins at conception. And if it does, then life is life right from the get-go.

Other analysts claimed that, in particular, Chief Justice Tom Parker’s opinion inappropriately quoted from the Book of Genesis as well as 13th century theologian Thomas Aquinas; while still others said the court was bound to rule as it did because of how the state Legislature, back in 2017, worded a constitutional amendment regarding “the rights of the unborn child.”

Whatever. When the Alabama Supreme Court issued its ruling a couple of weeks ago, the law of unintended consequences immediately kicked in.

Instead of being celebrated for protecting unborn children, the ruling shocked Americans from coast to coast who have friends and relatives whose pregnancies were made possible by IVF. When fertility clinics halted their operations in Alabama, women went public with heartbreaking stories of years-long attempts to conceive. Some were scheduled for embryo implantation when the ruling was issued, after which their clinics abruptly closed.

If you live in Alabama, you’re used to carrying a certain amount of baggage. After all, it gave the nation George Wallace, the Montgomery bus boycott and “Bloody Sunday,” and its largest city — Birmingham — was once known as “the most segregated city in America.” Birmingham was also the place where police turned dogs and fire hoses on black children and Ku Klux Klansmen bombed 16th Street Baptist Church and killed four little black girls.

Years later, we had a governor who, as he ridiculed the notion of evolution, pretended to be a monkey in front of other officials. He was succeeded by a governor who was convicted on corruption charges and spent six years in federal prison.

I could go on, but let’s just agree that Alabama has a shameful history of racism, and that its politics are marred by corruption, scandal and sometimes sheer idiocy.

So why stay? the looks say. Or why move to Alabama in the first place?

Why indeed? As the saying goes, it’s complicated.

I moved here in 1978, to be married to an Alabama resident. Nearly 46 years, two children and two grandchildren later, he and I are still together, I am still here, and I have developed a fierce affection for the state in spite of its flaws.

Geographically, Alabama is stunning. Its beaches and mountains are beautiful. There’s no better barbecue in the country, nor fresher seafood; and its people are as diverse as their soft Southern accents. Moreover, Alabama has given the world such notables as George Washington Carver, Tim Cook, Harper Lee, Helen Keller, Lionel Richie, Hank Aaron, Emmylou Harris, Rosa Parks and Nat King Cole.

Yes, we can be stubborn and foolish, and sometimes we act out of fear and ignorance. We are as likely as many other Americans to fall for political rhetoric and faux religious fervor. But we also can be kind, generous, thoughtful, deeply spiritual and authentic.

Alabamians care about one another, and it shows in how people greet you on the street, hold the door open for you at the bank and — young and old — routinely say “please,” “thank you,” “ma’am” and “sir.”

Fifty years ago, President Lyndon Johnson left the White House for good, heading home to his beloved Texas Hill Country. It was, he said, a place “where they know when you’re sick and they care when you die.”

From the good to the bad and the sometimes downright ugly, and in spite of the questioning looks we all occasionally get, that’s exactly how I feel about Alabama.

Frances Coleman is a former editorial page editor of the Mobile Press-Register. Email her at [email protected] and “like” her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/prfrances.