Recently I was telling one of my new friends about my reptile keeping. I was telling him about how I call my business small-batch like breweries do, and I told him about my lineage tacking, how I use half my profits to donate to conservation (and other causes), and how I hope to help maintain assurance colonies for threatened, vulnerable, and endangered species for future generations. He listened intently and then afterwards he said, "so... basically you have lizards, snakes, and turtles as pets."
Basically... yes. It's true. They are pets.
Yet, I feel that language can reframe and shape a person's perspective.
I don't see my lizards as family members. They aren't my friends, they aren't my buddies and I'm not seeking to be relationally fulfilled in any way from these animals. I never have felt an emotional connection with reptiles and to be frank, I don't want to. For me I enjoy seeing their wild behaviors (all of which should NEVER involve me). I enjoy their natural beauty and the biology behind how they fit into their wild ecosystem and trying to recreate that, to an extent, under captive management. They are living creatures under human care. To me, I don't see them as a pet like I do my dog whom I do have a emotional relationship with.
At the same time I totally respect that for other people a personal connection with a reptiles is exactly what they desire out of the experience. They want the reptile to engage them (befriend/trust) and be a true family member in a sense. I don't mean expecting mammalian behaviors from reptile but a relationship within the natural parameters of the species' capacity. I get it. Many reptiles make great pets.
And still, I believe that change starts with words, words lead to sentences, sentences to phrases, phrases can turn to action, action to habit, and habit into transformation. Therefore, using certain words can paint a different expectation and even an entire cultural shift. Even in the zoo world the language has evolved to express a specific mindset. Historically the animals were:
kept in cages...
later housed in enclosures (removes the jail like feeling)
then displayed on exhibit... (adds a sense of museum-esk education)
and now managed in habitats (gives a wild more natural sound)
The language directs the mind to a perspective. Still, the animals maintained in habitats are yes, still kept in cages in a sense. And still, the language directs the thoughts. Is it sugar coating it? I don't think so. I truly believe it has culturally shifted zoological parks and programs into a much more conservational mindset. Therefore, I've aligned with certain ideas that have been shaped by language.
Even still, it's not lost on me that there are some old school reptile keepers who cringe at the term, "small-batch" because they just want to breed their pets and carry on. I've been laughed at when I say that I'm participating in conservation or that I want to be involved in assurance colonies. Sure, am I directly involved in re-wilding of a species through collaboration with a public wildlife entity? No. Yet still, I do believe that when we limit participation to publicly held programs we have pathetically limited the scope of conservation efforts and the capabilities of private reptile keepers.
I do believe there is a difference between a pet owner who has reptiles and a private reptile keeper. I also believe that an AZA zoo's educational outreach program is more than the local city's "show and tell time" and the ambassador animals are not just "publicly held pets." I think the language used by zoos expresses a specific sentiment and the term pet does as well.
I strongly believe there is space for both in this world. I also believe the language zoos use today such as assurance colonies, conservation, and studbooks is not and should not be exclusively reserved for their use.
The private reptile industry has a plethora of variability within its membership. There are pet owners, morph makers, importers, collectors, private zoo owners, personal keepers and a range of in-between and more. There are private keepers who have directly been responsible for the existence of some species remaining alive today. There have been species where their wildtype (natural form) has all been but lost to captivity due to selective breeding for traits.
I do think language matters. For those that want to manage their animals as part of a greater conservation effort, let them. For those that want their pets to be technicolor and have cute names, let them. As long as the lived experience for the individual animals are optimized and the existence of the species in captive collections or on our planet isn't at risk, let each other be.
As for me and my business we are focused on maximizing genetic diversity, respecting wild-type integrity, lineage record management, assurance colony participation, conservation minded, and welfare oriented. Proceeds from the sales of my commonly bred reptiles does go directly to support wildlife conservation in the filed. My animals are genetically diverse and can be used by species survival plans for assurance purposes. These things instill meaning and purpose beyond me. That gives me inspiration. These words help me enjoy what I do and best reflects my purpose in my private keeping endeavors. We each have our own ethnozoological experiences and we should encourage one another to continue fanning our flames of passion for these creatures no matter the words we use.
Comments