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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (May 21, 2010)
The Guilt/Animal, Observed “I think I’ve finally identified my type,” Karen exclaims. “I’m into lost boys!” She and I walk along a coastal trail, carrying garbage bags and filling them with the litter were picking up from the sand. The air full of min erals, the oily smell of Manzanita, birds back from migration. A primatologist, Karen is a keen observer of animal behavior—in marked contrast to me, a keen observer o f animalistic behavior. “I guess it’s still an improvement from what used to be my type...” she continues. “Imaginary men?” I quip. “Thanks, Nick.” “Like that Pearl Jam song,” I reply. “I t’s evolution, baby!” “Funny that you’d say that,” Karen says, slip ping into her professional voice. “In my work, I’m frequently struck by two things. First off, evolution is happening constantly, on the level o f the organism and of the environment.” She pushes up the sleeves o f her burgundy North Face fleece. “Here’s a great example— all this Scotch broom you see around here?” Karen asks, ges ticulating toward the bushes growing thickly along the trail. H er porcelain-white hand is stark against the deep green. “Highly invasive. I t’s crowding out all the native species on this coast.” Delicate yellow blossoms extend along the trail to the horizon. “Scotch broom got here as an ornamental REMEMBER TO BREATHE \>y N k k M a t l o ' , I think of oil the times that I hesitated in m/ life .... O f not living up to standards that were im possibly high, for leaving relationships I knew w ouldn’t work, for making my life the way I needed it to be. plant, but now it’s so dominant in the ecosys tem that it’s become integral. In other words, the ecosystem evolved to include Scotch broom.” “But humans brought it here!” I object. “Sure, but seeds and spores travel all over the place, on winds and water currents and in animal shit,” Karen says, picking up a plastic bottle from the side of the trail. “W hy is it okay or natural’ when it happens like that, but not okay when we spread those seeds and spores?” I hear a hawk cry in the distance, the sand crunch beneath my boots. “That’s a great point.” “In nature, everything is constandy chang ing. W hile humans certainly have the tools to change things very quickly—cases in point, oil spills or the beedes we’ve introduced to fight the Scotch broom—we’re still primarily animals, and still included in the ecosystem. This is the problem I find with conservation- ism. It overlooks the fact that environments and organisms evolve and change, and draws a very arbitrary line between people and the environment.” “I guess you’re right,” I concur. “There’s a human tendency to think o f ourselves as out side o f nature, or somehow above it. It’s easy to forget that there isn’t really a clear distinction between us and the ecosystem at large. Except, I suppose, in our perception.” “That’s totally in line with the second thing I’ve noticed,” she continues, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “Humans really are the only species that even gives a second thought to altering their environment. The primates I’ve observed have absolutely no qualms about changing the space around them. I f they want or need something, or have a desire to change something, they simply go out and do it. Humans don’t fault them for it, either. We find an evolutionary explanation for the actions. Animals don’t hesitate to act, but we do— and then feel guilty for our actions.” I look at the bay to our left, and know that Karen is correct. I think o f all the times that I hesitated in my life. I swallow and feel the lump o f guilt, the reminder o f not living up to standards that were impossibly high, for leav ing relationships I knew wouldn’t work, for making my life the way I needed it to be. Karen’s steel blue eyes look over the still water, the sandpipers picking delicately at the earth. “Maybe what sets us apart from the other animals is guilt,” she says. “I t’s not that we change our environment, or are conscious of the environment. Lots o f organisms are. W e’re just the only ones who feel culpable for it, who feel guilt about being animals.” We reach the end o f the trail— a minivan full o f children is unloading in the parking lot, birders with their binoculars drink water from plastic bottles. We walk alongside the gravel parking lot, the smell o f dust mixing with the salt, and reach the garbage cans. There among the Scotch broom and the sandpipers, the gravel and minivans and Karen and I, amid the terrible guilt of being a human animal, I drop the bag o f litter into the open can. I hear the bottles crash against the metal and each other for a moment, alarmingly loud. Then, there is silence. J K Nick Mattos may be accused o f tokenism, but really does believe that everyone needs a prima tologist in their stable o f friends. He invites you to share your reactions: nickmattos@justout.com. C REA TO RS O F TH E ROCK WOMEN’S JAZZ GOSPEL COUNTRY BLUEGRASS MUSICALS BIG BAND REGGAE AND MORE... WORLD BEAT SOUL OLDIES FOLK CAJUN NEW AGE SOUNDTRACKS LOUNGE COMEDY SPOKEN WORD B R O A D W A Y H IT C I R Q U E i t R k A M .*> J U N U L t T A N ! 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