I hate zoos – I always have done. I have never understood why huge beasts, such as lions and let’s topically say, gorillas, can be kept in enclosures for us weird humans to gawp at. I think that zoos have improved since I was young and animals are kept in larger enclosures with hiding space. However personally, I still don’t like zoos. I even felt like an imposter in the Kruger National Park. No wonder the animals all sloped away from us, with our yelling and gesticulating and posh cameras pointing at moving bushes.
My statement is an entirely subjective one and doesn’t delve into such issues as wildlife conservation and the amazing work that zoo keepers do within their profession. It is simply my personal feeling.
So, reading about the incident at the Cincinnati Zoo last weekend, I, like everyone else felt saddened that a gorgeous creature had been killed. My initial thoughts were actually with the gorilla. Every time I read about it or heard about it, my heart ached for that amazing beast. It didn’t actually cross my mind to blame anyone, I just felt sad. Then came the hate. Not from me; I felt like a bystander in a zoo, watching and listening as bait was thrown into the social media lions’ enclosure, only to be ripped apart and spat out with judgement and venom: at the zoo keepers, at the parents…on the whole I think that Harambe the gorilla escaped the peoples’ wrath.
I repeated my mantra to myself: never judge a person until you have walked a mile in their moccasins. I read the arguments, I listened to the news reports, I watched the video and rather than judging, I tried to empathise with the parents. I had already empathised with Harambe, but now I had to readdress the balance in my mind. So I thought about the parents of the 3 year old boy, who managed to get into the enclosure. I imagined that one of my daughters was in with Harambe. I thought about how helpless I would feel and how I would be holding my breath every millisecond she was in there. I imagined how, with every movement he made, I would be screaming at him not to hurt her, whilst at the same time knowing that he is not a human and that I could not reason with him. I thought about how I would feel so out of control. I imagined how I would feel when he first dragged her across the water, as she went under and I would feel her fear and disorientation. And when he took her away from my sight and it went quiet, I imagined my complete and utter terror and how every part of my body would feel wretched with despair. Not for seconds, but for 10 whole, long, gut-wrenching minutes.
I am a human and a parent. I know that we are not as perfect as others would want us to be. We are not as perfect as others expect us to be, although they themselves are not perfect. I imagined myself holding my daughter when the keepers brought me to her. Holding her tight, away from the grasps of a 450-pound gorilla and I thought to myself that as much as I empathised with that gorgeous beast, I would want my daughter back in my arms more than anything else in the world.
Totally get where you are coming from. As a parent, the feelings over overwhelming relief would be huge. However, as a committed animal rights supporter it is another example of the expendable nature of animals. Put in zoos for our amusement, they are worth little in their own right. Zoos are awful places and should be outlawed. Need for the conservation of the species? Ask yourself why they need to be conserved. It’s as protection from humans. And why are they being protected? So that we can enjoy them and amuse the kids. Their a bloody freak show. Sod the value and quality of their lives. You learn so much more from a David Attenborough documentary.
Secondary to that is the management of the zoo and the way in which a child is able to fall into an animal enclosure.
It’s so typical of our culture to seek to blame and sum up issues in a single sound bite.
So sad all round
Yes, I agree with all your points. Especially your final one.