How do you react when you see someone mistreat an animal? A story on how a goose taught me to speak up and the importance of using our voice for the voiceless.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to become a farmer. In my head, the farmer’s job was to ensure all animals had the best possible life. I thought it meant I would get to feed them, brush them, and love them. That was my dream until I realized how a farmer made his money, and I chose a different path.
That little girl and her animal-shaped heart are still within me.
Always have.
Always will.
Three weeks ago, I went for a walk in the Walthamstow wetlands. It’s now breeding season, and the geese have multiplied. Everywhere you look, little fluffy balls waddle around. On my way out, I watched a guy around 18 chase a goose, swinging his blue plastic bag at it. The goose ran as fast as it could, completely confused about what was happening.
In the three years I have been walking the wetlands, everyone I’ve seen respects the environment and the fact that we are visitors to the animals’ homes.
Not this one.
Not this guy.
He kept chasing after it, wanting to impress (I’m guessing) the girl filming the whole thing.
They thought it was funny.
I felt anger build in my chest.
As I approached the scene, the goose looked at me. Its eyes were wide open as if trying to say, ‘Help me’.
I slowed my walking and stared at the man, hoping he would realize that I disagreed with his actions.
He didn’t.
The sentence ‘Could you please stop’ sat on my tongue but wouldn’t leave my mouth.
Who was I to say something?
Who was I to educate him?
This scene still haunts me because I think I should’ve done something.
Say something. Anything.
But I didn’t.
That day, as I walked home, I promised myself that from now on, I would always use my voice for the voiceless.
The universe gave me another opportunity
Two weeks ago, friends and I visited Arundel Castle, the home of the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk. On the castle’s right side is a pond with geese, swans, and water lilies. We walked down the tiny pebbled path as the water, with its turquoise colour, shimmered on our left. Towards the end, a rope stretched over the path to avoid going further. The sign attached said, ‘Swans are resting’.
Three of our group stepped over the rope. I was deep in conversation with someone else when I saw what happened and said surprisingly loud and affirmative, ‘No! You can’t go. It’s breeding season. We need to let the swans rest.’
They all looked at me with big eyes and quickly returned to our side of the rope.
As we walked back, they whispered to each other, ‘I feel like I’ve been told off…’
The next day, we sat outside in the garden, drinking our coffee and tea, wrapped in blankets as the day rose. One of the girls, let’s call her Fiona, said, ‘I admire your communication skills, Anja. You know what you’re saying, and it’s gentle yet affirmative.’
She was one of the three who went over the rope.
She said, ‘When you “told us off”, there was no hesitation. It was clear to me that what we were doing was wrong, and we had to leave the swans alone.’
I wish I could have recorded what she said that day because it was like a balm for my heart. Communication, especially in a group, challenges me. I know I make mistakes because English is my second (even third) language. I leave the table occasionally to breathe and gather the courage to speak, only to sit back down and continue in silence.
That morning, I looked at Fiona and said, ‘Thank you so much for saying this. I didn’t realize I was this affirmative! It came out of me without thinking, and I know why.’
Then, I shared the story about the goose in the Wetlands. And how I still felt guilty for not protecting it.
Tom sat beside me and leaned back into his chair, attentively listening. When I finished, he looked at me and said, ‘You know, sometimes things have to turn out one way so that the impact is bigger.’
He continued, ‘You not protecting the goose made you reflect on it. And now you shared the story with us, which has left an imprint on all of us.’ He gestured around the table.
‘It’s unfortunate for the goose, but think about all the other animals that will benefit from this experience. As a group, we’ll now be more aware of how we respect animals.’
When he said that, I felt a smile carve onto my face, and the gilt in my chest started to melt. He was right. I promised myself I would speak up the next time I saw injustice towards animals. Only a couple of days after my experience in the wetlands, the universe gave me an other opportunity, and I did! I did speak up. And with that, it had a wonderful ripple effect through the five hearts sitting at that table with me on that sunny morning.
Final thoughts
I recently read Jane Goodall’s The Book of Hope. What an incredible woman. The message that touched me the most was her love for all living things—plants, humans, and animals. She recognizes how we humans need nature to survive, and nature needs the animals. It’s all linked.
She said, ‘I am feeling wonder and awe about this incredible world we live in.’
What a beautiful message!
Let’s take care of our nature.
Let’s take care of our animal friends.
Let’s take care of our fellow humans.
With love, always,
Anja x
To read more about Jane, click here: Jane Goodall Institute
Stay up to date 🌸
