The Little Things

I wanted to find a beautiful picture of a jellyfish for today's blog entry, but there aren't too many of those on Old Man Farm (unless you count ME at the end of a long, long day). I chose another of the Farmer's stunning photos instead, hoping it will convey something about the beauty, the fragility, and the value of seemingly lowly creatures.

I've been thinking about jellyfish since last Friday, when the Farmer and I took our three children to an "end of swimming lessons" beach party down the shore. The Island Boat that ferries people over to the public beach was delayed, and soon a boisterous crowd of children and parents was lining the dock. The water sparkled. Newt and the Fireman were on their bellies, peering over the edge at a small school of fish. I looked around for Farmer-in-Training, and spied him trudging towards me, a dark look on his face. He planted himself in front of me.

"Mom," he said, "they're killing the jellyfish."

"Who is?" I asked.

"Those guys."

One of my son's good friends, and another boy of about the same age, were down at the end of the dock, trying to drop huge rocks on the jellyfish floating by.

"Kill him!"

"Gotcha, sucker!"

One rock connected with its target, smashing the jelly's surface and plunging it to the bottom. My stomach heaved. I looked around for the parents. Were they noticing this?

The parents - a teacher, and a teacher-in-training, were not close by, so I stepped in to talk with the boys. "It takes a village," and all that.

"What're you doing to the jellyfish?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"Killing them!" came the excited response.

"Why would you do that?" I asked.

"They sting, and they're stupid."

"But they can't sting you now - they can't jump up on the dock and sting you. Don't you think they have a right to live, just as much as you do?"

Apparently, the boys did NOT think so. After slinking away from me, they found fresh jelly targets at the opposite end of the wharf.

This time, the Farmer tried using a bit of humour and empathy-creation. "Okay, boys - why don't you two jump into the water, and we'll throw rocks at you and see how you like being a jellyfish."

By this point, everyone on the wharf has to have noticed the conversations we were trying to have with the two young boys. Not one other parent intervened. Some, in fact, rolled their eyes.

Now, I know those jellyfish weren't quaking in fear. I realize that they are literally brainless and that, as far as we can tell, they can't feel any pain. That's not the point. The point is that jellies are living beings with a role to play in the larger ecosystem. They are part of a complex food chain. And they're another unique and beautiful manifestation of creation. Their lives are worthy of respect.

Of course, it's true that we humans kill our fellow creatures under a variety of circumstances. Here on the farm, we take the lives of the animals we eat, for example, and we do so mournfully and with thanks to that animal for its gift to us. We may also, reluctantly, take the life of a creature that is threatening our livelihood, if there's no other way to deal with the problem. But we never, ever take a life "for fun".

What those little boys were being allowed to do on the wharf the other day was reinforcing the time-honored (and disastrous) notion of man having dominion over the rest of creation. And that experience will translate into increased distance between those children and the natural world. Perhaps you think I'm over-reacting? The same boys, after arriving on the Island, set out to hunt down a harmless garter snake in order to "chuck it down the outhouse hole."

Next time, I'm not lecturing the children. Next time, it's their parents who will get an earful.