Inside Law School dreams.

I hate writing personal statements. How can I explain what needs to be done in a blank-faced essay? There is no way to communicate some needs—they have always been voiceless and cramped in a chest longing to expand with clean air.

I can write about my desire to change things for the better without describing what I think ‘better’ is. It’s another ambiguous term that everyone puts a different face to. To me ‘better’ is described by the feeling I get as I look out on the green land. There are no roads to scar it—only rivers like life-veins to curl through it. There are deer in the meadow and the pug marks of a cougar in the mud. Humans have to be a part of this—the wilderness—before they can understand its sublimity. Once they understand it they will never want to give up on the wilderness. They won’t be able to forget the touch of an awareness like none they can get with their cell-phones and Big Macs. But humans will never be a part of the wilderness if they go about their lives, complacent in its destruction.

Why do I want to go to law school? It is a place where I can join a new fight, one for my own happiness and the growth of a belief that we can change. The cynic in me says that it’s a battle we will lose—but to complain about the plight of the environment without taking action is hypocritical. There’s nothing I hate more that a hypocrite. But “changing the world for the better” isn’t the only reason I consider law school. There are selfish reasons too; reasons that start with “I want…” and go on from there. What’s important is that I find fulfillment living this human life of mine. To do that I need an intellectual life surrounded by intellectual people. I would also like money. With money I can start a horse rescue and make a difference in the lives of individuals that have given so much to their humans. In particular I want to help the older animals: the ones who gave their young selves to work, only to be cast aside when their bodies couldn’t keep up any more. This kind of work gives me pleasure.

Law is appealing because it will make it possible for me to make a home for myself. Not just a physical home—though that is important too—but someplace inside as well. I’m dissatisfied with who I am; there is more to me than a B.A. graduate who works ceaselessly towards an end she hates. The monotonous work of an animal technician is not rewarding. Smiling at customers just because you want to eat and don’t actually care about the people standing in front of you is degrading. I want a job where I wake up with the fight in me alive and hungering for more because that’s the real me.

Law is a straight line to my family—boring, old, predictable—and they can’t see why it appeals. What a lawyer does is create the law, interpret the law, discover the law. They also do something more: they relate the law to what is real at the moment. Their perception of things has to be open to change while aware of the past. They can have a voice if they choose to, or they can work the change in a dusty basement room. People respect them for their knowledge, and listen to them beyond mere politeness. A lawyer deals with the paper version of human perspective. The paper-perspective is a comfortable one for me; words on a page are easy to interpret and advise. And because of this, I’d have the power to change my community through a medium that feels like an old friend.

Law isn’t all about straight lines. Law is about perspective and community, about relating the constructed grids to the tangled reality and weaving the two into a cohesive whole. It’s about knowing the world you live in. With knowledge comes the power to change the paper perspective, and from that the human perspective. If I could get people to stop thinking only in straight lines and see the gulp of a mosquito fish or the tracks a skunk left in the mud, I would be fulfilled—for a day. There are always battles to be fought. As a lawyer I wouldn’t have to filter my opinions through self-doubt. I would have the tools to be unashamed of the person I am.

Spotted Hyena Society

We can learn from Crocuta crocuta—the spotted hyena.

These animals have fascinated me for a long time. Images from The Lion King aside, the spotted hyena’s pack structure and social organization is something unusual among mammals. From all appearances the females are indiscernible from the males—and this similarity goes right down to their genitals. And yes, even if you were able to lift their skirts and check their goods, female hyenas could be mistaken as a males. Looks can be deceiving: female spotted hyenas have fused labia that resemble a scrotum and testes, and their clitoris is elongated and fully erectile so that it is nearly the size of the male’s penis. What’s even more amazing (to me!) is that these females are fully functional as females—they mate and give birth through this pseudo-penis. This relates to a higher rate of still-born, as cubs suffocate in the long birth canal if their umbilical cord is not long enough. There is also the danger, especially for first time mothers, that their pseudo-penis just won’t stretch wide enough.
We may never know why this species took this particular evolutionary path, but that doesn’t make them any less intriguing. The female masculinization, and it’s consequences in female society can tell us a lot about our own sexual and cultural roots by comparison.

Among spotted hyenas, the females are dominant.

True, the females are larger and more bad-ass, so they can bully their way into kills if need be. But in observation this isn’t always true—males will give up a kill when a dominant female arrives without a fight. Whether the differences in size and genital morphology developed together or separately, it seems plausible that there is a sexual explanation behind the female’s dominance.

Most notable is that female spotted hyenas have complete sexual control—a rare thing among mammal species. What is more common is to find a male in control, because, even if he isn’t more physically powerful, he has an advantage simply because a penis can always trump a vagina. With the spotted hyena, the female cannot be an unwilling participant. With that set of paired genitals, mating is a more tenuous process as the pseudo-penis has to roll up to make anything possible. For the male to be successful the female must allow him to be—even if he were able to force her into submission, her form itself would thwart him.

Typically, whoever controls the sexual power in social groups controls all the advantages of being dominant. We see this particularly in other social mammal groups where the male is typically dominant over a harem or group. Obvious sexual dimorphism (such as size) is usually directly related to the difference in sex roles—the more a male has to compete for the opportunity for mating, the more he will usually be larger and more powerful than the female. Their morphology—our morphology—lends itself to patriarchal society. The spotted hyena morphology lends itself to a female dominated society. If females can always be forced into sex, than the only thing that males have to worry about is competition from their own sex. Even among humans this difference is paramount. While there is strong evidence that humans are becoming less and less dimorphic and therefore more monogamous, males can still force females into sex. The simple fact that rape is possible precludes men towards having more sexual power.

Biologically, the ability for a male to have more sexual power isn’t an unsound way of going about things. If the male has the power and has to compete for mates, than physically sound males have a higher chance of passing their genes onto multiple offspring. Even among monogamous species this seems to hold true—the more “fit” a male is, the more likely he is able to keep his mate and foster offspring to adulthood. Polygamy works well too because one male is able to procreate with many females.

However, spotted hyena society also works incredibly well in practice. They are a very successful species for many reasons—not least because they are able to digest bone matter that other carnivores cannot. They are also incredible social hunters and not just scavengers as they are portrayed by the media. And yet, the women lead. There is a dominant female in a group and a ranking hierarchy in which females generally are more dominant over any given male. The dominant female gets her choice of mates, her choice of food, her nicest places to den, and other benefits that would normally go to the ranking male in another species group. There is still a remarkable amount of cooperation that goes on among these hyena groups, such as close mother-daughter bonding. Their life cycle from birth to adulthood can be harsh because the birthing process (they have to push a cub through that pseudo-penis) is difficult and there is a lot of sibling competition. One thing is clear to me: the spotted hyenas are at no selection disadvantage because of how they operate. In the respect of genetic diversity I imagine they are better off—if females are more likely to mate with different males than their sisters hyena groups as a whole will be more diverse. Perhaps this is one reason the spotted hyena has flourished where many of the other large African predators have not.

It could be possible that the spotted hyenas interesting morphology could have been selected for because the females started acting dominant. With the more dominant female, more masculine hormones were selected for (masculine hormones preclude greater size, dimorphism, erectile tissue, etc.—they are considered “male” hormones because of this, even though all females have them), and the more their pseudo-penises grew. Similar to any type of sexual selection, perhaps once the females morphology began to change it became possible for her to be even more dominant because she now had sexual power. It is of note that only spotted hyenas have this social and morphological difference.

Human society could take a lesson from this: we may not be able to change your gender, sex or genitals, but at least we can understand the biological implications they have on our social interactions. I’d be all for a society in which women have dominance—remember the Amazon warrior women? I think it could still work very well even if we don’t have pseudo-penises. Society could match our sexual powers even if our biology can’t. It could, but will it? The gender roles that were in place at our beginnings may have changed, but essentially men still have the sexual power and therefore the power over how society runs. Spotted hyena females have the advantage of their morphology to take sexual charge. For humans to equalize gender roles and power, human men, along with the women, would have to be conscious and incite such change with that purpose in mind. This isn’t on the individual scale that I’m speaking of, but as society or micro-cultures as a whole. Individually progressive and socially regressive isn’t going to work!

Unfortunately that’s another depressing truth about humankind—we brag about our potential to rise above our biology, but that potential is ever realized. Maybe our only ability that sets us apart from the non-humans is to brag about things we will never do.

Personally, I’m rooting for the spotted hyena.

What happened to capitalism?

It occurred to me today that the simple principle of capitalism is dead. I’ve lived under the notion that the harder one works, the better they do in life. Obvious examples: you give a job all that you have to give without running you ragged, and you get promotions and status. You move up the figurative ladder. This is the foundation of capitalist theory. Many people will see a flaw in this logic—where does the fun and enjoyment of life come into this formula? For me the “enjoyment” aspect has always been an insubstantial fantasy of those weaker than me. Enjoyment cannot come from working an 8 to 5 job that barely pays the bills and is nonintellectual and boring. The satisfaction from doing a damn good job is overshadowed by the fact that other people step up and take that glory. The satisfaction is dimmed by nitpicking administration that does not notice that their employees are overworked and underpaid and in pain for various reasons (most job related!).

Again and again I have found that the person the person that is willing to get down and dirty, despite in incompatibilities in the job and their personality, is discarded. Why? I feel that it is because, along with being an honest worker, this person shuts up and gets the job done. They do not brag. They do not try and make friends or suck up to administration. They feel that their good works should speak for itself. But in the real world it does not seem to matter how hard you work. Opinions about what you think and feel, despite you never being asked how you think and feel, rule your life. Opinions that are not based on the hard fact of your work, but on who they think you are outside of the work environment. If they think you’re a nice person to have a chat with. I have seen this again and again among my friends, coworkers and family. You would think, being the observant person that I am, I would try a different tactic when it came to my own various employments—especially after experiencing the bitter results of being under appreciated and ill-favored because I did not try and curry any favors. I have also seen institutions crumble in my absence and customers and coworkers ask for me once I’m gone—much to the irritation of those in charge.

To me what seems “fair” and “right” is to notice and appreciate people for the work they DO, not the work they tell you they do, or the hard hours they complain about.

I think the workers that shut up and get the job done deserve penance. We have to watch others who we see chatting and goofing off getting paid more than we do. We get passed over for raises because there was no “improvement” in our work. Guess what? Our work was always awesome—done on time and as correct as humanly possible. Why do people think that doesn’t take effort? Is the effort of sweat and tears only possible if someone has told you that they sweated and cried over their work?

Just because this is reality, that does not make it right.

But lessons have been learned. When the time comes and I have underlings and power, or when I am a society leader I will remember the mistreatment and injustice. I’m sure I will notice the quiet employee and respect them—and as for everything else? Time will tell. I’m looking forward to a career in law, where it will be pretty clear that I am doing good work even if I don’t talk myself up to the “boss”.

A girl can dream, right?

Tugging the Teat

I got in the milk argument today.

Dairy cows often have better lives than cattle destined for slaughter. The picturesque scene of cows eating green grass under a bright blue Californian sun is a myth, but they do at least get fed more naturally than feedlot cattle, and get to spend more time being bovines. I am always going to be in favor of situations that allow a production animal to live a life that allows for all of their natural behaviors. Dairy cows come closer to this ideal than feedlot cattle – which I have always been against. In my animal science studies at University of California Davis I got to spend several months at the dairy barn learning the ins and outs of the milk production process. It was interesting. And it was fun. And it was disturbing. Humans are addicted to their milk, but very few have any idea of how it is processed before it gets into that carton they pull off their superstore shelf.

I don't drink milk. If I could say I don't drink milk purely on principle, I would, but the honest truth is that I was allergic to milk as a child. I would break out in a rash every time I ate dairy products and so I avoided dairy products. Milk is something that you have to acquire a taste for – as a child who never drank milk, the taste of dairy products like milk and ice cream are repulsive to me. I do like cheese, though my tastes run towards the well-aged salty cheeses or sheep and goat milk cheeses. Ironically I could eat cheese as a child because it has already been partially digested by the bacteria and I reacted less to it. I have a strong suspicion that it wasn't the milk itself I was allergic to, but the chemicals and additives put in milk to pasteurize and clean it. Because I grew up in such an organic home-grown type of household my digestive system cannot tolerate foreign chemicals and hormones in my food. Feedlot meat makes me ill. But I can eat a huge beef hamburger of high-quality grass-fed free-range meat and feet great. It disturbs me that people not only acquire a taste for these artificial additives to their milk and meat, but that they sometimes prefer it. Like MSG (something else that makes me sick), to some people it just tastes good, even though it is an awful thing to put in your body.

When it comes to dairy milk I am baffled by people's need to drink it. There is no proof that it helps children grow faster or stronger (I have never broken a bone), and quite a bit of proof that milk is not easily digested or used by the human body. Could people be confusing the importance of a child getting his mother's milk with continuing to drink milk through childhood?

Some that are against the use of dairy cows will also mention that their calves often go to slaughter (veal is a popular option). Sometimes the female calves are kept as replacements on a dairy farm of course, but by in large this is true. I always loved spending time with the calves at the dairy barn. Had I known that they were going to meat, but in the meantime they would get to live as bovines should with room to move and ruminate and be free from chemicals I would not have been sad at their parting. The knowledge that they might be put into a feedlot type setting disgusted me. Luckily most of the UCD calves were kept in fields on the periphery of the university where they could live decent bovine lives until slaughtered. No animal should have to live in conditions like those found in a feedlot. And I certainly don't want to eat an animal that has lived in those conditions!

My general argument is this: eat what you will, but know where it comes from. Know that your food choices may be polluting the environment and your body. Know that your choices contribute to the suffering of another sentient being. If you know where it comes from and it is someplace like a feedlot or an industrialized dairy farm, then ask yourself why it's okay to make these animals suffer so that you can have a luxury (we don't need beef or milk).

And if you don't care because you feel that animals are less important than you as a human being, then I recommend you open your eyes. The cattle we eat and the milk we drink comes from beings as emotionally complicated as any human.

What makes humans better?

I’m sick of hearing that animals can’t have rights because you like to eat them.

I have nothing against animals being eaten—humans are omnivores and are built to consume animal protein as well as a variety of other foods. What bothers me is the lack of respect for the non-human animals we keep. If anyone has seen cattle feedlots or the animals that are abused and neglected as property you know what I mean.

What is this “right” that humans intrinsically have over non-humans? I used the dictionary to clarify my terms:

Right
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English riht, from riht, adjective
Date: before 12th century
1: qualities (as adherence to duty or obedience to lawful authority) that together constitute the ideal of moral propriety or merit moral approval

2: something to which one has a just claim: as a: the power or privilege to which one is justly entitled b (1): the interest that one has in a piece of property —often used in plural (2)plural : the property interest possessed under law or custom and agreement in an intangible thing especially of a literary and artistic nature

3: something that one may properly claim as due

4: the cause of truth or justice

Let’s put each of these definitions into context. The first definition relates to phrases like “you’re right”, as in I’m correct. With no situational context given to us it’s hard to determine moral rightness. In fact, even if we did have a situation, could we really label actions that a human does as “right” outside of the laws our species imposes on us? To do the opposite and impose ideas of moral rightness on a non-human who does not share our society or concerns is anthropomorphism—the giving of human qualities to a non-human animal or vice versa (a Disney animal is anthropomorphized because it can talk, for example).

The second definition is similar, but relates to entitlement. For instance: “in the United States I have the right of freedom of speech”. Good for me! But the definition goes deeper than that by indicating that the claim must be just. Once again there is a moral stint to this word. Now what just claims does an animal have? In human society, as a human, they would have certain rights. Even the mentally retarded have some rights in some societies, so a non-human's supposed lesser intelligence cannot be what sets them apart. What sets them apart is simply that they are not human. I have no problem with this perception because I think that anthropomorphizing non-human animals does them a great disservice. What I have a problem with is the idea that not human somehow means that they have no inherent rights.

The last two definitions are variations on the theme. But I would like to point out something interesting about the wording in the third definition: “Something that one may properly claim as due”. I think this is where you could argue that non-human animals don’t have rights—it’s because they can’t properly claim their dues, because, of course, they can’t speak human. I would argue against that by saying that non-human animals have a lot to tell us in their own ways, but most humans do not bother to notice. And how can they? The animals they see are wrapped in cellophane long before they are grilled and washed down with cold beer. Or they live in our houses, with us, as pets. And pets have been domesticated—they have adapted to living with humans—so the gap in communication should be even less. But is it? There is strong evidence that our domesticated animals have evolved means to communicate better with their humans— for instance both dogs and cats have become more vocal then their wild counterparts. I think we have the means inside us to communicate more intimately with animals, especially with our domesticated partners, but social standards prevent most of us from doing so. It’s the idea that they are somehow less important, with no natural rights, that seems to lead people to this conclusion. Non-human equals no rights. Its how Western culture has raised us (I can’t speak for cultures I don’t belong to, but from what I’ve seen and hear this is a culturally universal trait).

So why don’t animals get respect? Why does abuse and neglect happen and go unpunished? Why do we use non-human animals like they are things? Go ahead and argue that humans have to look out for their own—I will counter right back and say that, if that’s true, then why are we better than non-humans? If that was the case then we are selfish, shortsighted, and blind to the world around us. I have heard these traits attached to non-humans as a reason that they are not better than us. And honestly, can we even attach these traits to anyone without knowing them and their motives?

The argument that they are less intelligent is also faulty. The mentally retarded are less intelligent and human-centric folks will still argue that they have as much value as an intelligent individual. Also—we are anthropomorphizing again when we say they are less intelligent. Yes, you can argue that they have less of the human-type of intelligence. Good for them! But I bet I don’t have any wolf-intelligence or centipede-intelligence. There are quite a few things that these species excel at that I haven’t a hope of puzzling through even with my huge brain. I could even bring in example of non-humans that DO seem to have a type of intelligence comparable to a human. I knew someone with a scarlet macaw who could not only speak English, but knew a supposition from a noun from a verb. He would correct or puzzle over the way this woman’s six year old stepdaughter spoke because she wasn’t very proper. How did he learn this? His owner was an English teacher and writer, who would read her work out to him and self-correct things out loud. He was a fast learner. He also could differentiate himself from the crowd (I think all mammals and birds, at the very least, can do this). Once, while his owner was cooking he asked “Sammy help stir?” and when his owner approved he flew down to help stir the pasta with his beak. So Sammy could bridge the gap, and that’s amazing. But non-human animals are bridging that gap all the time and most people aren’t aware of it.

I personally know that non-human bird and mammals at least (I don’t have in depth experience with other groups) are more complex emotionally than any human.

But it shouldn’t be an issue of who is better in any respect. Every species, every individual, has their strengths and their weaknesses. Who should have intrinsic rights? Every individual—no matter what race, religion, gender or species should have the ability to live well. And by living well I don’t mean not being eaten—that’s a natural life process. What I do mean is that you should have the ability to fight or flee when the threat of being eaten is upon you. Or have land to roam and unpolluted greens to eat. Basically to live within you realm of choices, and have your realm of choices include what’s natural for you. A house cat will probably want to live in a house and be fed two meals a day. Sammy, the scarlet macaw, was born and raised in captivity. But because macaws are not domesticated, if he had been born in the wild his forest home may have been natural for him. He might have flourished there but been devastated if captured to be a pet. There are so many situations that we impose on non-humans that they can’t adapt too. A wolf cannot live in a cage and eat cellophane-meat. His choices in that situation do not include what is natural. And natural is good.

I understand non-humans in a way: I don’t live within a sphere that’s natural for me. But I DO have the choice to pursue what is good for me. It’s a struggle, and who knows if I will get their in the end, but at least I have the right.

Why I ride—the selfish version of events.

There’s something really fantastic about the way horses smell. I love pressing my face into my horse’s side and drawing in a deep breath. The smell of her calls up visions of sweeping grass, wet dirt and the sheen of clean sweat on her body as she runs. This memory-connection I have in my brain sends a shiver of delight down my spine every time. Those smells, sights, sounds and the feeling of a powerful steed moving underneath you are all behind my associations of "freedom".

I first felt "free" on the back of a horse. It was a moment when we were running and something clicked inside me: I could feel that equine power coursing through ever sinew and muscle of my body, energizing me. That feeling of physical ease and confidence is something I can never get in my own awkward human body. I get the feeling that horses live closer to the earth (and further from it) than any human ever could. And it’s an addiction. Those of us who ride for this reason—the search for being complete and connected —don’t get this feeling every time we ride. But that does not mean we stop searching for it. It's one of the reasons I ride Dressage, which at the sport's best, focuses on rider-horse connection. And when we do have those moments it makes our lives better from that moment forward.

For me there are some individuals in which this feeling is easy to find. There was one horse whom I knew in two different situations—one in the Trinity Alps, and one in this sordid dust-choked town in central California. She was nothing special to look at and had no competitive talents, but she knew me intimately from the moment I climbed on her big broad back. As romanticized as that sounds, a horse that knows you isn’t going to do everything you ask with the lightest touch. This horse was lazy and as stubborn as she was smart—not difficult to ride, just difficult to understand and get fine-tuned control out of her.

Now, there were days when I was deep in the hole, feeling like the world was pressing me down so that I squished into the cracks in the concrete, in which I could hop on this particular horse and fly away. It wasn’t allowed, but I would close my eyes, give her a loose rein, and she would canter on and on. The steady drum of her hooves and the movement of my own body in concert with her would free me from all my hurt.

Horses ground me and lift me up simultaneously. The smell of their sweaty bodies and the sound of the muffled shrunch of them eating their hay, reminds me of better days when I could see the world with the same clarity that a horse does. My horse reminds me that when things are bad and I can't take one breath without anxiety filling my lungs I need to just stop and be a horse.

Someday I will have land, and on that land I will make a place for the horses. Not just for my horse, who is going to be with me for the remainder of her natural life, but for other horses that need help being horses again because of the abuse and neglect they have suffered under human hands. We humans are not humane, but I think I can help heal some of the damage my fellows have done on the non-human people we consider property. Horses are complex creatures—socially, physically and mentally. But what they want is the same as any person — to be healthy, to have friends, to have food, water and space to run. In other words: freedom.

Human senses, and what's nonsensical.

I was wondering the other day if everyone has a particular dislike for a sound, sight, feeling, taste or smell. Do they know what their dislike is and is it ingrained in their genetics or part of their history? Do all humans have an aversion to certain experiences?

Everyone dislikes certain foods, so it’s easy to assume that taste is the sense that is easily defined under the qualifications of “good” and “bad”. Smell is related to taste. You can assume that if something smells rancid, it is going to taste rancid. Logically we can assume that all humans have a dislike for smells or tastes of things that are not good for us to eat. Evolutionarily this would be a very good idea! Of course, there are certain things I loathe to smell or taste that other people seem more than willing to. Cigar or joint smoke, for one, makes me want to hurl. And yet I like the smell of turpentine. This interest me because it begs the question—do I not like smokers or smoking because the smell disgusts me? Or do I have an aversion to the smell because I dislike smoking? Perhaps I even enjoy the smell of turpentine because I associate it with painting.

And what about sounds? Is there a sound that has a universal reaction of dislike or fear from humans? For me it’s babies. I can’t stand the sounds they make—and this includes their bubbling and their laughter, not just their screaming. When a baby cries I expect they are being so irritating because they want someone to soothe them right away, and mothers that soothed their children instead of killing them (like I probably would) would be more likely to pass on their genes. I doubt I could conclude that a baby screaming is found as universally disgusting because of this.

Evolutionarily you might expect ancestral humans to find the sound of a predator snarling frightening. To me the snarling would be frightening only if I thought it was going to lead to pain—it’s only a method of communication to me and I’m not afraid of it at all. The counterargument of that is that babies are also communicating when they “talk” (how could their noises ever be considered “talking”?); to me a snarl is much more effective than blowing spit bubbles.

It also makes my skin crawl to see a baby’s pink wet mouth and sausage-limbs waving, so there is a clear overlap in my sense-dislike there. Thankfully I’ve only had the bad luck to hold a baby once, but my impression was the same: disgust.

Again, there is a discord between what I find disgusting and what the majority of humanity find disgusting. I enjoy looking at spiders and have no problem with snakes (in fact I love both groups!), but human children make me want to run away and hide.

In conclusion? Babies are gross. Oh, and I don’t think sense-dislike is universal, though I could see such things being a bell curve. Unless we are talking about claustrophobia I’d probably be on the extreme ends of that bell curve.