I'm on the Duke Students for the Protection of Animals mailing list. Yes, I know. I just thought I'd say it upfront. Last week I received an e-mail from one of its members bringing us the news that a third-year School of Medicine class has dropped experimentation on live pigs from its curriculum. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Reading the e-mail, I felt a small sense of satisfaction tempered by the knowledge that, in the grand scheme of things, this is nothing.
We've still got a long way to go in the Research Triangle, easily one of the crappiest place in the country to be an animal.
Our tiny victory did not get much publicity, and I would venture to say it's really only known in certain very small circles. I would also venture to say that, by this point in the column, many of you have stopped reading. You may be rolling your eyes. Some of my friends are muttering, "Oh God, there she goes..." with the occasional guy chuckling about how, "Lindsay doesn't eat meat."
Because the animal rights movement is neither popular nor sexy. It's a tiny blip on the radar at Duke, completely dwarfed by the mad pursuit of science and a culture that scoffs at this kind of fuzzy, sentimental activism. You won't see, out on the main quad, a pinwheel for every animal maimed or killed in Duke's many labs. And any kind of protest at our very own on-campus vivarium during this week's World Week for Animals in Laboratories is bound to be lackluster.
But I'm not on the front lines of the movement at Duke, and very few of us are. There is a certain self-consciousness, an awkwardness that comes with taking on this kind of cause. I'm reluctant to join up with D-SPA or any equivalent organization, because taking on un-popular, un-mainstream activism is something which would make me a little more vulnerable than I'd like to be-like baring my Achilles' heel. I would also be opening myself up to all kinds of stigma, a whole stream of labels and assumptions.
There is something inherently personal about taking up a cause like this and, though it isn't really a justification for doing nothing at all, the reluctance to speak out and protest is not completely irrational.
There are mainstream causes; however, I don't bat an eyelash at someone tabling for Darfur or global warming. I'm not undermining their validity, but these are causes which have become common enough in our culture that we don't really question why someone is taking them on. It seems a matter of course. Common sense. But, then again, with every cause, comes the subconscious questions, the why we ponder when we find out someone is interning at National Abortion Rights Action League or writing their congressman about immigration. We can recognize the legitimacy of these causes and their implications for our society and country, but in the back of our minds is always the assumption that it's something personal.
Whatever the cause, the unspoken questions and assumptions are there. Pro-choice? Why? Maybe you've had an abortion or anticipate needing one in the near future. The environment? Your parents are upper-class tree-huggers from Berkeley. Animal rights? Socially awkward extremist who only likes animals because you are terrible at human interaction. Abstinence? Oh, sorry. You're just not getting any.
Some of the assumptions are crueler than others. Some of them are completely unspoken, and some of them have little basis in reality. Nevertheless, taking up a cause, whether heavily promoted by celebrities and embedded in the discourse at Duke or under-represented and practically unheard of, opens you up to scrutiny not only of your personal beliefs but also, strangely, of your social status, history and personal experience.
Honestly, I'm impressed by the students prowling the Bryan Center walkway handing out horrifying, yet accurate, pamphlets about factory farming or the kids selling Duke-blue T-shirts emblazoned: "Former Embryo." I'm kind of put-off by the latter group, but still. Wow. They're willing to brave the awkwardness, to disgust or piss people off in the pursuit of their own higher morality.
While it clearly takes a tremendous degree of personal conviction, it also requires you to get over the stigmas, the I'd-like-everyone-to-like-me-and-think-I'm-cool mentality. I admire what they do and aspire to it.
At the same time, it seems out of reach. If we want a culture with the free exchange of ideas, where there isn't so much self-consciousness attached to advocacy, we may need to get over both the fear of silent judgment and the inclination to judge.
So here goes....
I'm for animal rights. I'm also a registered Republican. I can't imagine you saw that one coming.
Lindsay White is a Trinity sophomore. Her column runs every other Monday.
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