Today I posted a clip about control and cohesion — about how people project chaos outward, splitting off that which they are unwilling to own, instead of taking responsibility and stepping forward to bring cohesion. That, and pathological greed, is why the world is in the state it is in. A few hours later, I witnessed another example of human apathy.
Walking in the countryside, I came across six adults standing near a garden with a chicken pen. Three men, three women, all with their dogs, simply staring in. It was immediately clear what was happening and what needed to happen, but instead I was asked pathetically, “Do you know who lives here?” Inside the pen was chaos: two crows trapped among five chickens and a robin. The chickens were attacking one crow while its mate fought back. Feathers everywhere, panic everywhere. Six capable adults stood outside the fence watching the chaos, doing absolutely nothing! So without any words, I opened the gate and went in. For seven minutes, I struggled to restore order — one leg holding back frightened chickens while I grabbed the injured crow and released it, then the second crow, while the robin finally escaped. I got pecked, my hat fell off, and from outside I heard someone mutter something about bird flu — the convenient justification for doing absolutely nothing. No one offered to help either the birds or me. Watching it unfold as they did at a distance, I couldn’t help thinking that what we are really suffering from isn’t bird flu at all, but chicken-headed flu in adults. Irresponsible adults willingly engulfed in the bystander effect, attempting to cover their conscience with excuses, lest shame seep in.
Order was restored. All birds were safe. As I walked away, someone asked, “How did the birds get in?” I didn’t bother looking at them or smiling, I simply said I didn’t know and kept walking. But the moment stayed with me, because it mirrors something much bigger and more damaging not only to birds, but to the human race. We are living through wars, killings, and political assassinations, yet a disgraceful lethargy has taken hold. People stare into the chaos of the world pen, the same way those six adults stared into that pen — observing, commenting, justifying, excusing why they cannot step in or help. Cohesion never comes from spectators. Not from cowards with popcorn. It comes from the moment someone stops watching, opens the gate, and steps into the chaos to resolve it.
For the love of wings,
Carole Sawo