Over the years I've had a few classroom pets-- fish for a while, some rescued mice, an orphaned hamster. They were fun to have until tragedy befell them: the pygmy frogs constantly disappeared without a trace; the bleeding heart tetras harassed the angel fish; the mice developed grotesque tumors; the hamster died of loneliness, I think. Each loss broke my heart a tiny bit, and ultimately, the brevity of their lives made it difficult for me to justify keeping them; if I was honest with myself, they were really no more than captives.
I have colleagues in the building who keep animals in their rooms; I don't think they would call them pets. Some keep turtles and frogs, and one teacher keeps a big black snake. All of them have to be fed live food. The turtle and frog eat crickets and feeder goldfish, and the snake eats mice and rats. Many of the students in those classrooms consider it a treat to be present at feeding time-- they are thrilled by the speed and lethalness of the predators, conveniently ignoring the mortal terror of the prey. Or perhaps they don't overlook the victim at all, maybe its death is a big part of their morbid fascination.
The truth is, most kids identify with the predator, and few have any compassion for the prey. Is that attitude simply a naive expression of their youth, or is it human nature to assume that we are the top of the food chain? Because really? Not many of us are.
(Click here for today's sample of my 6th grade students' response to the 2011 SOLSC challenge.)
I have to say I never thought about class pets this way. As I tell my students -- you changed my thinking. I loved your description of your now-departed pets in your first paragraph.
ReplyDeleteLove your title, it really made me go back, reread, and think. Where's the empathy for the prey? That's a little scary.
ReplyDelete