Confessions of a Speciesist

Honesty is a virtue that has a varying signifigance in our culture. I am never completely honest in anything I ever say. If I was, I hardly think I would have many friends or socialize well with others. I believe all interactions with other people involve some sort of deceit. And I find nothing wrong with that. I just hope that anyone reading this understand I am being completely honest, even at the risk of offending anyone.
Yesterday, our class took to a trip to a PETA information display on campus. Before we even arrived to the PETA stand, I already knew how I would respond to the display. At first, a mix of shock, sadness, pity, but, in the end, a total lack of empathy.
I have seen enough horrible images in my life that seeing a pig undergoing anesthetized castration hardly moved me (I feel like I sound like a battle-hardened Vietnam Vet saying something like that). It's not to say I'm not disgusted by these images, I would rather not look at them. But they do not affect any opinion I have on animal rights or cruelty. The bottom line is, that I think bacon, sausage, brisket, burgers, jerky, chicken, shrimp, and fish is too delicious for me to really care about how the food is processed. Heartless? Perhaps. Ignorant? Maybe. But I stress my lack of interest in what goes on the food processing industry. As long as it does not negatively affect my health, I could honestly care less where my delicious food comes from.
And I would like it to stay that way. Ignorance is bliss, and it has never applied more in my carnivore lifestyle. This is not to say that I do not care about animals, but I only care for the animals that are relevant in my life. I would never hurt my beloved Dimitri, mostly because I love him and I do not think he would taste very good. The beautiful birds that I cared for at the zoo were magnificent and I would always feel pain when a gorgeous bird was discovered dead (even though it only happened once, and he was very old). But I had absolutely no qualms with killing baby mice by hand and chopping them into pieces to feed a bustard chick.
So while I appreciate PETA persistence and passion for their mission, I was not at all affected by their display. If anything, I was slightly offended by their comparisons of animal slaughters to tragedies in human history. Relating the Cambodian holocaust to the yearly slaughter of pigs is, in my opinion, incredibly insulting to the millions of innocent Cambodians affected by that tragedy. But I understand where PETA is coming from. To them, the slaughter of pigs is as important and tragic as the Cambodian holocaust. But I do believe that this appeals to too much of an emotional aspect of the human condition, and prevents proper discussion about animal cruelty, something the Human Society does a much better job of. So I walked away from Peta completely unchanged or moved as meatitarian.

Project 2

The way people define themselves depends not only on how they see themselves but also on how they think others see them. I have often found it particularly difficult to define myself and what matters the most in my life. I am not very passionate about anything at all, save trying as hard as I can to get away with putting the least amount of effort possible in anything I do. It’s my M.O., my prerogative, and because of that I think people may seem me as careless or unmotivated.

But everyone, including me, has something that keeps them going, something that motivates them more than anything. This motivation can spring from a person’s various passions. Money, power, and success are driving factors, but it is truly one’s passions and joys in life that drives them day to day to continue what they are doing.

A significant passion in my life is learning about and doing everything in my 19 year old college self’s ability to protect wildlife. As human beings continue to expand both in population and industrial scope, more and more wildlife species are being pushed to the brink of survival. Myriads of magnificent species of creatures, from seemingly insignificant insects to monstrous and breathtaking whales, have bleak futures that without active protection from our own kind may not survive so that generations of our off springs can appreciate them. These animals have taken millions of years of evolutionary change to perfectly adapt to their environments. It is such a crushing irony then that it can take less than 100 years of human exploitation to eradicate an ancient species all together.

Some of my most cherished moments in life have been encounters with wildlife. I'll never forget as a pod of over 200 common dolphins zipped beneath and leapt over the waves around the boat taking me and my family to Channel Islands National Park off the coast of Santa Barbara, California. I'll always be haunted by the the deep, foreboding howls of Howler Monkeys in a Panamanian jungle. The majestic bald eagle feeding fish to its chicks in a Virginia swamp will be a sight I'll tell my grandchildren about. And the sight of a baby bear stuck in a tree near the shores of Lake Tahoe will always bring the hairs on the back of my neck to stand. Why? Because his enraged mother was surely somewhere near by...

To witness a rare or endangered species of animal is becoming increasingly rare for members of my generation. The famous adage about never appreciating something until its gone rings truer now than ever before. We look in a mix of regret, shame, and sadness at our forefathers who recklessly slaughtered the buffalo of the great prairies, harpooned shocking numbers of great whales, and haphazardly covered America in a plague of DDT. It is difficult to blame anyone in those situations, when nature seemed like an endless bountiful resource. But it serves as a great warning to our generation, who increasingly must be responsible for the careful maintenance of our planet. We should learn to appreciate the rich, diverse ecology of Earth. Easier said than done.

Many school nights in my high school career were spent perusing the internet for information about threatened species of animals and plants. Some of the information was just flat out depressing. I had a sense of powerlessness in that I could do nothing in my power to help some of these amazing animals I was reading about. What could a 17 year old kid from Houston do to save the last 60 Javan rhinos from ruthless poaches and unchecked deforestation? How could I do anything to prevent the extinction of the last 10000 blue whales? I sure wasn’t helping, going on pointless joyrides with my friends, refusing to put the effort to sort my recycling from my trash, and carelessly leaving all the lights on in my house.

Eventually, my personal despair over the plight of worldwide wildlife forced me to take action. I could no longer just be a witness to what was going, as "the process of witnessing is dispassionate." [1] I donated to the World Wildlife Foundation, who I consider to be the preeminent organization of worldwide wildlife conservation and whose "ultimate goal is to build a future where people live in harmony with nature," [2] echoing my own personal sentiment. It was often very refreshing to check their site in my free time and check our the conservation projects going on around the world. Knowing that there was a large group of people out there willing to spend so much energy in something I found so important was a comforting thought that helped ease those sleepless nights.

I then took the quickest opportunity I could find to volunteer at the Houston Zoo. Even more than other zoos, the Houston Zoo is remarkable in its conservation efforts. The Zoo is practically responsible for the entire effort of reestablishing viable populations of the little-known Houston Toad. Even of more personal importance to me, they are doing an amazing job of keeping stable emergency captive populations of frogs and toads from Panama as amphibian populations there are crashing at alarming rates. Their collection of birds had birds so rare that they were nonexistent in the wild or their captive populations did not exceed over more than a couple hundred individuals. Something that is regarded as 'priceless' is anything that cannot be replaced in any means and has either or an emotional or financial importance to an individual. But to me, a rare animal such as the Micronesian Kingfisher, with only a few hundred captive individuals, is something that ultimately defines the term 'priceless.' Once a species if animal is extinct, millions of years of careful evolutionary adaptation will end with the final heartbeat of the last individual of a certain species. The stakes that ride on conservation practices are enormous, and I often forgot how crucial some of the work that I was involved was to the health of our planet.

It was refreshing to be surrounded by other people who cared as much as I did and to be involved in something that could potentially benefit the ecological health of our planet. When I worked in the bird section last summer, I worked with birds that were extinct in the wild or had populations lower than 500 individuals. I had to care for and keep track of hundreds of endangered Attwater’s Prairie Chickens, one of the zoos preeminent wildlife conservation projects.

It was a rewarding experience to return home each day, exhausted and very often dehydrated, knowing that I had helped to accomplish something very few people can consider they are a part of. As insignificant as my contributions may seem, it was important for me to do something, anything. I couldn’t have it on my conscience anymore that so many fascinating, ancient, and unique creatures were being driven to extinction as I sat there and did nothing.

I hope to somehow pursue my passion for protecting wildlife in some capacity as I grow older. Protecting wildlife isn't just a reflection of my passion, but it also represents another fundamental aspect of my personality: my strong sense of duty. I feel it is my duty to protect wildlife not only for my own fascination with animals but also for the health of our planet and so that future generations can appreciate wildlife outside of museums or books. How we treat nature and animals reflects on how treat ourselves, and it is important for me to do my part.

So while I may sometimes idle away an afternoon on a couch rather than working on a homework assignment or do any urgent chores, I could see myself spending weeks alone in a deep jungle, with nothing but my thoughts and the nature around me. I could see myself exhausting every bit of effort I had in order to collect some vital data on protecting Snow Leopards of Sumatran Rhinos. And what would motive me to do this? It is that passion, that desire to no longer be a witness, so that I may not longer "[not be] commited to one result or another, [or be] open to everything." [3] I feel it is is my duty to protect what fragile remains of an embattled Mother Nature I am still able to protect. And it this sense of duty that gets me off my couch, wipe the Cheetos crumbs off my T-shirt, and walk out into the world with a sense of purpose like nothing else can provide for me.

[1] Dass, Ram and Gorman, Paul. “How Can I Help?” in Composition and Reading in World Literature, edited by Professor Bump, 268. Jenn’s Copy and Binding, 2009.

[2] http://www.wwf.org/

[3] Dass, Ram and Gorman, Paul, 268

Word count with quotes: 1,438

Word count without quotes: 1,414

I'll be a leader...if you show me how.

We've all applied for various posts and positions in different organizations in our lives. We've all had to fill out various questionnaires or answered seemingly irrelevant questions pertaining to our character. One common question that I remember I always seemed to be asked was "What experience as a leader have I had?" I always felt that the perfect leader would never have to answer a question like that. The perfect leader would parcel out credit for his/her excellent leadership to his/her underlings, giving them a false sense of importance. I always struggled to answer this question. What in my short time on this world, when I have for the most part been following and learning from more experienced elders in our society did I ever really get an opportunity to become a leader? The space below these questions is usually where the famous and trademark Jose Ordonez bullshit would make its appearance.

My answers to these leadership inquiries would usually follow along the lines "Among my group of friends, it is usually always me who makes the tough decisions. My friends also find comfort in my advice and I always enjoy giving it." I always gave a slight cringe when I put that last period down. Why? Because I find it hard to ever believe myself when I wrote that down as many times as I did.

I find comfort in not having anybody judge my actions. By definition, a leader's every move is judged by his peers. He is constantly the center of attention, and the consequence of his actions rest mostly on his shoulders. I never could see the benefits of drawing so much potentially negative attention to myself.


According to Covey's observations about the human brain, one should "manage from the left, lead from the right.(Course Anthology 226)." By this he means that the best leaders do technical, procedural tasks with the more logical left side of the brain, while dealing with people and being a leader requires more use of the more emotional right side of the brain. Sometime I believe this philosophy is completely changed in my way of life. I often deal with others in concise, simple terms. I don't want my actions or intentions to be confused by anyone, which is probably why I am so bad with the ladies. But anyone who read my entry about my college application experience (in which I stupidly only applied to one college...guess which one!) knows that I can handle important, delicate matters with the emotion and diligence of a five year old. I definitely fall into the category of people who "have become turned off by time management programs and planners that make them feel too scheduled, too restricted (Covey 150).

Am I proud of these qualities? Of course! It makes for some damn good stories and DB entries. It also translates into amazing amounts of stress and parental headaches, I'm sure. But if you ask me, a life without some sleepless nights is a life not worth living. Does this kind of disorganized and seemingly lazy lifestyle translate into any sort of leadership skills? I would think not, but I think it can be applied to certain aspects of leadership. A leader must be flexible, willing to understand where everyone in a certain party is coming from. With my care free attitude, I find it very hard to become impatient with others and I never expect too much from anybody. I am also not afraid to speak my mind, something that can be little appreciated in our society but something I think is important for anyone to be able to do in order to have healthy relationships with others. The ability to empathize with others is also fundamental to healthy relationships, and I the fact that I am conscience of others feeling and motivations is proof that "conscience transforms passion into compassion (Course Anthology 237)."

The irony of all of this particular diatribe is that I am now in a class that stresses the importance of leadership. I hope to develop this skill, but it may take a lot of work and self-application before I get to a stage where I can call myself "a leader". For now, I'll let Molly lead the discussion.