Ever wonder if what you are doing here is making a difference?
Read this attached story of one young woman who has been inspired by our Zoo.
Jessie Lowry
Conservation Manager
Blank Park Zoo - Des Moines, Iowa
The Zoo That Grew Me
By Averee Luhrs
My family came to Iowa in 1996,
when I was 3 and half years old. I remember driving up to our new home: a large
salmon pink and beige house with a huge front yard and land stretching behind
it. It looked immense at the time, and slightly barren. We lived out in the
country in a space of shared borders; our address was Norwalk, our water Des
Moines, and our school Indianola. Living 15 minutes from nearly all of my
school friends, my playground was outside and my companions were animals. I
raised butterflies and tadpoles, I caught snakes and rescued baby birds (on
some occasions, baby mice), and I had my own Audubon field guide with my 8 year-old
field notes scrawled inside. I was fascinated with the natural world, and I
began to learn without even realizing it. I found that my caterpillars would
always eat the plant on which I first discovered them (which is how I learned
that monarchs prefer milkweed to lay their eggs). I learned that snakes liked
to bask on warm surfaces on cold mornings; I learned robins make a certain
noise when you get too close to their nests; I learned to tell the difference
between a monarch and a viceroy, and I learned that bats would catch your
leftover fishing worms if you threw them in the air high enough.
All of this knowledge, at the time,
seemed to be part of my daily adventure and play. But in reality, it formed the
basis for an understanding of ecology, zoology, and conservation. I do think
that regardless of where I had grown up, I would have developed a love for
nature, but I think I was particularly lucky to have not only had a huge back
yard, but also a zoo. When my brother
and I were very young, my mother would pile us into the car and drive us 8
minutes to the zoo for the entire day, often two times a week. The zoo was the
ultimate adventure for my small self. While my backyard had deer, robins, and
garter snakes; the zoo had zebras, “bad hair day cranes” (Grey-crowned cranes,
of course), and pythons. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the zoo offered a
valuable bridge to my backyard learning: birds at the zoo still had nests and
made different calls, the zebras (although certainly not deer) still lived in
herds and grazed on grass, the massive pythons still preferred the warm sun,
just like our tiny garters. One of the first things I remember learning from
the zoo is that no matter where an animal is from or how exotic it may seem,
the rules of nature still apply.
Categories like “mammals” and “reptiles” began to make sense to me on a
functional level, and ecosystems and behavioral characteristics became
reachable concepts.
The time I spent at the zoo also
offered a bridge, however imaginary, to faraway places. The zoo helped me learn
that the world was so much bigger than I often felt it could be. When you grow
up in the country, especially in Iowa,
and even in the huge United States, you often feel you are living in a
bubble. “The world” can seem to exist only within state or national borders.
But as a child, seeing a tiger, a giraffe, an emu, or a snow monkey was
revolutionary. These animals were part of a much bigger place than Des Moines
or Indianola. I could see that my backyard
was only one of a billion other backyards. Somewhere a child was watching a
monkey play in the trees behind her house, and another may be spotting
wallabies on his way home from school. It is often incredibly difficult to
achieve a sense of “worldliness” when you cannot afford to travel, but the zoo
did the travelling for me, and the zoo allowed a small girl’s mind imagine the
far spaces of the globe that she could someday visit.
I was 7 when the zoo opened the
indoor jungle exhibit. At the time, I was particularly interested in
butterflies, so the indoor butterfly garden (now home to a type of Australian
sparrow, I believe) felt like pure magic. I remember being thrilled to know
that butterflies from real jungles had caterpillars and chrysalises too. My
excitement was only amplified when I met the new marmosets. I realized,
quickly, that if you mimicked their high pitched squeaking noise you could get
them to come to your side of the cage. I saw how intelligent they were (smarter
than my cat at home at least) and how different they seemed from any other
animal. I do think on some level I had always been interested in monkeys, but I
know the marmosets were certainly a catalyst in what would turn out to be a
long-lived adoration for all things primate. Before leaving one day, my brother
and I were given a rare opportunity to pick out something from the gift shop. I
chose Antuco, a hanging stuffed squirrel monkey. These hanging monkeys were a
well-known “Wild Futures” brand series, and I would eventually start getting
one with almost every visit to the zoo. I learned each one’s species (sifaka,
gibbon, tamarin) and kept them all hanging in my room, swearing that I’d work
in a zoo with the monkeys one day. Antuco is currently hanging next to me as I
write in my room in Oxford, UK
In the 8th grade, I job-shadowed a zookeeper at
the Blank Park Zoo for a school assignment.
I don’t remember much past cleaning the huge giraffe house and asking
lots of questions, but I know I was more excited for that day than I’d ever
been for a day in the classroom. I was thrilled to learn about the “ZooCrew”
volunteer program, which I saw (at the time) as a chance to work my way up the
system. A year later, I was finally 14 and I became a certified volunteer. To
say I was obsessed might be an understatement; my AIM username was
(embarrassingly) “zoogrl28.” During the summer of 2006 I spent eight hours a
day, three days a week volunteering for the zoo. I prepared food for the birds
and the prairie dogs, I cleaned the petting zoo, and I helped the older interns
with their summer camp courses. I was so incredibly excited to finally be a
part of the place that I had visited so often. I got to groom Dolly, the llama
that I had loved from the early days, I got to feed Barnaby the tortoise, whose
long neck I had touched once when I was 8, I learned the names of the giraffes
that I had known for years, and I formed a bond with nearly every goat the
petting zoo had to offer. My favorite
job involved working the information stands across the zoo. At these stands, I had little items for
visitors to touch(an ostrich egg, hair from a giraffe tail, a peacock feather)
and I shared facts about the exhibit animals. It was working those stands that
taught me that not only could my personal knowledge be useful and interesting
to others, but that many of my fellow Iowans hadn’t yet come to appreciate the
astounding world of animals the same way that I had.
When I was a sophomore at Drake
University (majoring in, of course, Zoology) I was able to return to the zoo as
a Summer Safari Intern. I was suddenly in charge of the younger Zoo Crew
volunteers and a large horde of 5 and 6 year olds each week. Again, I found a
great joy in not only teaching children and parents about the natural world,
but I found it particularly exciting to introduce strangers to “my” zoo. In the
years that I had grown up there, I felt the zoo had grown up with me. As I had added
inches to my height, the zoo had added an indoor jungle, a marvelous
playground, a cool clock tower, a travelling exhibit, a lecture series on
conservation, and even a newly renovated Australia sector. I was (and still am)
a believer of the Blank Park Zoo, and I wanted others to understand its value
to the state of Iowa.
Someone else must have believed in
us too, because in the summer of 2012 the zoo was lucky enough to host the
annual Zoos and Aquariums Committing to Conservation (ZACC) conference. I could
not attend, because that summer I was in Rwanda for my undergraduate research,
but I obsessively read the updates on Twitter and Facebook. It was through this
obsession that I saw a zoo tweet about the upcoming talk of Dr. Anna Nekaris, a
renowned expert on the endangered Slow Loris. Interested, I clicked the link
and found that she was a tutor on the Oxford Brookes University Master’s course
on Primate Conservation. It is now almost 2016, about four years later. I graduated
from Drake University in 2014 with a BS in Zoology (concentrating in
Primatology) and Environmental Science. I began the Brookes Primate Conservation course in Oxford, UK in
September of 2014, and finished almost exactly one year later. Now, in late
January 2016, I am starting my PhD at Oxford Brookes under the tutelage of Dr.
Anna Nekaris, with my work focusing on nocturnal African primates. In the last
few years I have been lucky enough to see many of my favorite zoo animals in
the wild. I have been able to meet many leaders in conservation and I have been
to many, many different countries and cities. And I know for a fact that much
of my current success stemmed from an early love for the zoo.
Every year that I can come home, I
spend some time at my zoo. In many ways, the Blank Park Zoo is “home” for me. The
zoo and I both continue to grow, something that I hope can continue for many
years. So here is the moral of the
story: zoos are important. Zoos can
teach about nature and conservation, promote respect for wildlife, and inspire
travel and adventure. A good zoo can inspire and grow a veterinarian, a
scientist, a zookeeper, a teacher, a farmer, or a primatologist. A zoo can grow
you. So here’s my advice. Go find
your nearest accredited zoo. Don’t just
stroll through with your cell phone camera at the ready. Really make an effort
to learn. If you bring your child, help
them learn as well. Learn about the animals, read the signs, watch how the
animals move, and listen to how they sound. Imagine the places these animals live,
and what it might be like to see one in the wild. Consider that currently, in
some zoo, a little girl or boy is seeing a raccoon or a Virginia opossum for
the first time, and imagining the far-off world of North America. Learn why
some of the animals you see in zoos are disappearing, and imagine they are the
animals you grew up with. Take action and donate to conservation projects
(local or international), schedule a trip to a far-off place, or simply
appreciate the natural world. The motto of the Blank Park Zoo is deceptively
simple: “Do the Zoo.” So that’s my challenge. Do the zoo, but do it right. Let
it teach and inspire you and your children, your friends and your family, just
as it taught and inspired me.
Averee Luhrs is
living in Oxford, UK and is gearing up for three years of researching two
little-known species of nocturnal primate in West Africa. She comes home to
Iowa at least once a year and always visits the zoo. She asks that if you love
the zoo as much as she does, that you donate, become a member, and spread the
word. She can be reached at
averee.m.l@gmail.com.