Of course you’ve heard about the curious 4-year-old boy who clambered into the gorilla habitat at the Cincinnati Zoo. The zoo shot and killed the gorilla in order to rescue the child and bring him to safety.
This news hit me like a fist.
Years ago, I was a volunteer educator at the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Gardens. It was a position that involved several weeks of training, becoming acquainted with the animals and learning the ins and outs of the zoo. I know all about the enrichment activities the trainers create for the large animals, who grow bored and complacent in their habitats. I know that in addition to fresh produce, gorillas are given a special rice bread, baked fresh in the zoo commissary, for added nourishment. I know that lion food arrives in frozen logs of meat and bone.
I love animals, so each day I volunteered at the zoo was a joy. At the time I was working nights, covering the cops beat for the Cincinnati Enquirer, so I witnessed a lot of grim news. Mornings at the zoo were the perfect balance for that. Initially the polar bears were my personal favorite, but the more time I spent at the zoo, the more my heart belonged to the primates.
Unfortunately, my volunteer work was all too brief. I got another job, moved across the country, and left the zoo behind.
A few years later, I visited the part of Rwanda where primatologist Dian Fossey studied mountain gorilla groups, which eventually became the book (and film) Gorillas in the Mist.
This is the mist she talked about.
Mountain gorillas are a critically endangered species, found only in Uganda, Congo and Rwanda, and treks to see them are strictly regulated by the governments in those nations. (For instance, in Rwanda there are 7 groups of gorillas, and only 8 permits are granted per group per day.) A portion of the permit’s cost goes toward gorilla conservation, but it also pays for guides and gorilla trackers, which is nice – the more people profit from gorilla tourism means less incentive for poaching.
Before we hiked into the mountains, my group was briefed on how to interact with the gorillas. No eye contact. No loud noises. We were only allowed to get within 5 meters (about 16 feet) of the gorillas, but if the gorillas wanted to get closer to us, they could certainly do so.
One woman who had a minor cold was sent back to the lodge. Since gorillas and humans are so similar, it’s possible to transfer our illnesses to them.
Our trek involved a hike up a muddy slope that was so steep, I had to cut steps out of the mud with a machete. We also used our machetes to slash our way through bamboo thickets and overgrown bushes – it turns out gorillas don’t necessarily hang out by the hiking trails. ‘
And then we found our group.
It was magic. I’m not exaggerating.
I watched mothers nurse babies. Then I watched those babies, all milk-drunk and clumsy limbs, learn to swing. I saw adults forage for berries, then laze under leafy trees.
It’s hard to not anthropomorphize primates, because they are so similar to us, but I swear some gorillas were deep in thought, playing games, or mocking us humans.
When the silverback walked past, he placed a hand on my shoulder. His hand was larger than my head, and though his body was covered in fur, he rippled with muscle. I didn’t dare breathe. He kept walking, and then stopped to gaze down the mountain. His mountain.
That moment changed me. It changed my relationship with animals, and it changed how I feel about zoos.
While I still support the on-the-ground conservation efforts of zoos and sanctuaries around the world, which are critical in keeping many species alive, I can’t condone the imprisonment of living creatures.
It’s been tricky navigating that as a parent, though, and it’s something I’ve really struggled with. On the one hand, I want to inspire a love of nature in my child, and I want him to experience the magnificence of animals. On the other hand, I don’t know if I need zoos in order to do that.
So what’s the best way to educate my child about animals? Books and videos? Or does he need to see a living, breathing being in a cage in order to care about it? In short: What cultivates compassion?
I’ve taken my son to a zoo before, and I’ve wondered if I’m doing the right thing. He seemed delighted when a fennec fox scurried by the glass or when an owl perched close to the bars of the cage. But then again, my son is delighted every time he sees a YouTube video of elephants taking mud baths in the wild. So I can’t shake that feeling that by going to a zoo, I’m contributing to the backward idea that it’s okay to hold animals captive for our entertainment.
This is what brings the Cincinnati Zoo event home for me.
In this situation, I don’t blame the zoo, and I don’t blame the child’s parents. I think it’s a tragedy that shouldn’t have happened at all, because the gorilla shouldn’t have been there in the first place. And in that, I am complicit.
