I haven’t been on facebook or any social media for ages. I signed on for the first time in months and perused one of my friends’ walls and saw Mali the Elephant holding her tail. The tag reads “She’s so lonely. She holds her own tail…”
I didn’t just feel like crying–I cried. I couldn’t help it. I can relate to being lonely. I can feel that deep sadness when all you have is yourself and that’s all you can rely upon because you have no support from the environment in which you live. I so get that, and it pains me. Regardless of whether or not this particular image is propaganda, it speaks the truth, and it touches me bone deep.
Often, I feel so helpless in the face of this real suffering. So many of us doing this work feel helpless. I fool my way out of it when I put on my theorist, philosopher, systems thinker hat–which for any of you who follow my blog know that I have a great affinity for philosophical thinking. But all that theorizing does not replace or even assuage what I feel when I meet suffering. I feel so powerless when I see these images of animals in places I’ve never been before. I feel gut-wrenched sorrow witnessing animals across Asheville, locked up, in chains, killed in the road, alone with no space beyond their own bodies. And I feel stabbed in the heart as I’m surrounded by humans numb to this suffering, confirming day after day their justification and superiority. I feel stabbed in the heart because I am one of them, fighting to be an ally for animals but also tired because I’m losing this fight the way that I’m going.
I’m posting this now because for the first time, I want to use this blog as a way to reach out. I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, and I don’t want to feel lonely anymore. I don’t always feel compelled to write a treatise on the order of things and behave as though I’m an academic when in actuality, I’m just a deep intellectual trying to liberate myself and be there when it counts for animals.
I look into Mali’s face, I look into the face of a dog in chains, I look into the faces of hens who have no clue they will soon be sent to slaughter, I look into the face of a fish on a hook–and I cry a river of pain greater than my existence, greater than humanity. Right now, that’s all I know to give. And when I do, I know that I’ve let the life of those animals into my heart, more than theorizing or talking about veganism can ever do. Nothing but this sadness feels real. Where do I go from here?
In Buddhism, they have a word for this deep sadness older than words, as old as life itself; they call it “bodhicitta.” It literally means “awakened heart.” It’s that tender pain in your center that makes you want to weep for no real reason except in response to life itself. I’ve realized all this time as an animal rights, social justice, and ecological justice activist, I had not let anyone or anyplace into my heart until now. College allowed me to place these areas in a theoretical, objective sphere where it didn’t have to touch my tender spot. I could go as deep intellectually as I wanted and I could say these radical things about animal liberation without feeling what they truly meant. Connecting with animals as individuals–human and nonhuman–and facing myself as an animal allowed all these feelings and behaviors to emerge. I can no longer fool myself into looking at an animal, getting caught up in my own internal dialogue about oppression and struggle, and believing I’m actually seeing that animal. I’ve come to realize I don’t know who any of these animals are. And how can I possibly be an ally to them if I don’t know who they are, where they are, how they are, and why? I cry just asking this question.
This crying is the beginning. Now I know I’m on to something. Mali’s loneliness will show me the way.
Animal Visions 
Hi, Anastasia,
I feel exactly the same way you do, and I know we are not alone. I donate money to the HSUS and other animal organizations, write letters, and try to remain optimistic, but it often feels like progress is slow and setbacks frequent.
I’m also aware that in order for animal advocacy to grow, people of all races and ethnicities need to participate or at least be receptive and it’s disheartening that despite outreach, the movement remains depressingly limited in that regard. The most common thing I hear from the black community about animal rights is that although animal cruelty is wrong, we advocates “put animals above people,” and shouldn’t try to “tell” others what to do (e.g. not wear fur). I hear the same “putting animals above people” refrain from certain conservative whites as well, but more often something about about abortion and our God-given dominion over animals.
As a black woman, do you think there is a way to change this negative perception of animal rights advocates as imperious zealots with (what some consider) misordered priorities? Do you believe it is a widespread perception or just one I happen to have encountered?
Thanks!
Your sympathetic reader
Hi Adriana,
It’s difficult for some black people to hear about animal rights because the struggle for our basic equity in this country has been so long and is so great that we have a hard time thinking about anything else, never mind animals who are paradigmatically are considered lesser. I work with black folks who struggle to meet their daily needs. Often, they are not in a place psychologically to hear about anything other than what’s going to help them to survive. Not everyone I connect with is in that situation, but it’s important to remember when we’re reaching out to communities of color because these communities are disproportionately low-income. In order to reach out to a community you are not a part of, it helps to take the time to learn where they are coming from. People in general are much more receptive to messages completely different from what they’re used to–whether they are urban black people in low-income neighborhoods or rural white people who live in the hills–if you demonstrate that you genuinely give a shit about them.
It’s hard work getting folks to care about something beyond their own immediate life experience. So I focus on what I’m doing and the example I’m leading instead. It makes the struggle a little bit easier that way.
Anastasia
Anastasia you are not alone in your crying.
you can help Mali by signing the petition below 🙂
And I hope that you will soon feel better !
http://www.change.org/savemali
” I can no longer fool myself into looking at an animal, getting caught up in my own internal dialogue about oppression and struggle, and believing I’m actually seeing that animal. I’ve come to realize I don’t know who any of these animals are. And how can I possibly be an ally to them if I don’t know who they are, where they are, how they are, and why? I cry just asking this question.”
wow. Beautiful post, beautifully put. And ditto. I’m crying now too.
If you look closer, you will see that there is another elephant there
I love what you say. Keep spreading the message. You are not alone.
I know. “Call me another Thrower.” Loren Eisley: The Star Thrower. https://youtu.be/-qClChUdlfI