A Field Trip with the Zoo

Volunteering for a project, taking my own internalized ageism along for the ride.

The zoo, where I am lucky enough to volunteer, partners with other organizations. There are field trips scheduled at times where our staff and volunteers go and help that organization with their needs and with some of their field projects. 

Recently there was an email sent about one such project. It was about an organization that is working to help the rabbit population (a particular and endangered species of it) in an area where that population was severely reduced by a virus that was going around. So, the staff there is helping to capture the rabbits at night in special cages that they set out so that they can vaccinate the rabbits against this virus before releasing them the next morning. 

They needed help building more cages. This involved wire cutting, fabric cutting, putting cages together. It was about a 2-hour drive away to a place that was usually much hotter than where I live. It turns out that the day that this field trip was scheduled for was during one of our first heat waves, so temperatures were predicted to be in the triple digits. 

Yikes, I thought. Although the field trip sounded like something that I would enjoy participating in and being part of, I wondered if I could handle it. Was I too old now to be able to perform whatever the tasks might be that were needed in order to make these cages? Would I be able to handle the heat, as seniors were told to stay indoors if possible (and now I found myself in that group that had to worry about such things, things that I would never have given a second thought to before when I was younger.)

I have written before about trying to be aware of how it becomes easier for me to watch and allow my world to shrink, to perhaps go out less, to sign up for fewer adventures that I knew nothing about, as I continue this path of aging. It’s too easy for me to do that, and I want to be aware and not automatically rule things out just because of my age and my fears about whether I can meet the expectations or task. 

I signed up for the trip. Anxiously I drove up to the zoo parking lot that day, where we were to meet and carpool, and was relieved to see about 4 others in my age group who were also there waiting. The rest of the 13 or so of us were younger, and I was grateful that I was not the only elder in the group. I took some comfort in this, although of course I wondered if my level of stiffness, and what seem to be daily new aches and pains, might get in the way. 

Off we went. I was relieved to be in a comfortable SUV with three other seniors. With large comfortable bucket seats, great air conditioning, and good company along the way, we were on the way to our adventure. So far, so good. 

Work Begins.

We arrived, and our main task at this point was wire cutting. We had to add another level of smaller gauge wire around the cages to help keep the rabbits safer from predators who might be able to reach into the cages and hurt or grab them. This new wire would prevent that. A noble task indeed. So, as the first step, we had to cut the smaller wire to the specified measurements. This was needed for 50 new cages. 

Wire cutting doesn’t sound like it would be that hard, does it? But, to hands that are older, have carpal tunnel syndrome, and less strength than they once had, I could see and feel the difference compared to what I might have been able to do in the past as well as the difference in speed. It was also easy to begin to compare myself to the younger staff who didn’t seem to struggle as much. 

But, I thought, I am here, so let me do what I can. And I found my own rhythm and speed and worked at a steady pace. I was not speedy, but steady. What a metaphor for aging, I thought. I might not be as speedy with things, but I can still be steady. I know how to keep going and persevere. God knows that aging teaches us that, among other lessons. 

So cut wire we did. And I found myself being one of those who kept working until the very end, watching some of the younger folks having stopped when it got closer to the time to leave. Again, this can be another gift of aging. We know how to keep going, as this is what we are doing in our lives, yes?

Making It Through!

Was it hot? You bet. Did I know how to keep hydrating myself? Oh yes. And you can bet that as soon as I got home, it was into the shower and then onto a good night’s sleep! No partying for me after this, unlike what I imagine some of the younger folks might do. I just wanted to get home and rest. And that’s ok. 

The point is that I made it. I signed up and went, kept my commitment, although I was tempted to drop out when I heard about the weather warnings. And I cut wires. Maybe not quickly. And I stopped and rested my hands when needed, drank water, took care of myself, and enjoyed the laughter and camaraderie among us all. Maybe I have a few bruises and blisters, but that’s a small price to pay for the adventure and experience. And it’s a small price to pay for the validation that I can still participate in things like this, still participate in what calls to me. 

One thing that I noticed when we all introduced ourselves and stated why we were all there was that we, the elders among us, would talk about wanting to learn things, about wanting adventures, about wanting to help, about enjoying the experience. Alternately, some of the younger folks, being in a different place in life, of course, might have been working there to see about possible different job or career options that might be available, about adding this to their list of experiences and knowledge. But we could still all be there together, with my reason no less important than anyone else’s. 

On the drive home, back in the same comfortable SUV, I was delighted, tired, and happy to have made it. I felt happy to have felt still part of the group, still part of life, still able to help out, even if at a slower pace. I was happy to have taken a risk and pushed myself a bit to do something out of my comfort zone and to have thoroughly enjoyed the whole adventure. 

I think we seniors can keep doing this for ourselves. We can keep trying things (as long as they are not truly dangerous for us). Keep participating. Keep moving. Keep being part of new adventures. Keep being part of life where we can, doing the best that we can. And we can give ourselves some grace for perhaps not being as speedy or productive than we might have once been. We can celebrate what we can do, and that we can still show up. 

Helping with the cages, and getting so much more in return!

Not only did I help with the project, but I got to enjoy some very cute bunnies who seemed interested in what we were doing, hopping by quickly and then disappearing into the brush.

I got to see the young women who were staff there doing something that they loved. They were not bound by some of the more sexist rules that might not have made their jobs open to women in the past. Watching them do a wonderful job and be so excited to share about it, I got to thank them for what they do and give them praise and encouragement to keep doing things that they love, things that they feel committed to and that they feel make a difference.

 I got to be an elder woman encouraging these younger women to be who they are, do what they want, go for the lives that they dream of as much as they can, like I try and do with the young women zookeepers that I so enjoy working with during my volunteer shifts at the zoo.

 I don’t have children, but I can still encourage those younger than I and let them know their value and how appreciated that they are. And I can be beside them, modeling that we can still be alive and participate in life as we age. 

Maybe they will remember this as they continue on their own life path. Maybe it will make a difference. 

Meanwhile, I have already signed up for the follow-up field trip where we will continue to work on this project. Why not?