Not Yer Gramma's Creationism (Probably)
Yesterday, my new job took me to the local zoo at an unholy hour of the morn. Much of the day was work, but part of the day was an opportunity to go stare at some monkeys. (I think this job is going to work out well.) Of course I ended up observing the people as much as the animals themselves, noting how many people (well, men) found it acceptable to spit in the relevant native flora displayed in front of the animals' areas, how much people like to count things (say, like monkeys), and how speedily they moved past the exhibits.
I was taking my time, knowing that my job would bring me back to the zoo soon, and because I realized I'd never sat and watched monkeys for extended periods of time. I ended up on a shady bench in front of an enclosure of especially active Lion-Tailed Macaques. (There were three of them.)
Lots of children and strollers and sweaty parents trouped by, stopping to count the monkeys, and in some cases to declare that they were ugly or compare their appearance to that a relative. Just about nobody read the educational signs about Macaques. Nobody stuck around for more than two minutes, even if the monkeys were doing something especially interesting, like flinging themselves around the treetops or sitting pensively on the rope swing.
Because part of the program that I work for is about helping children value their own curiosity, it was disheartening to watch all these families stroll by and not inquire about anything. So when a traditionally dressed couple of Muslim women with 4 or 5 children in tow came by and seemed to indulge the young boy's curiousity, I was really happy to see it. They pointed out what the monkeys were doing, talked about the fruit in the cage and concluded that the monkeys must like oranges, and read the signage. Then, they had this exchange:
Mother: And who made the monkeys?
Boy: Allah.
Mother: Good.
And they moved on. I got the impression that the boy had heard and correctly answered the question many times already. Of course it's not surprising that they teach their children their version of the creation story; who doesn't? It was jarring in this context, though, because the zoo takes evolution almost completely for granted, with displays of skeletons and descriptions of how whatever that was has evolved from or whatever it evolved into relates, and because every single other family that had passed was utterly uninterested in reflecting on what they saw any more than if they had been channel surfing through the exhibits.
Also, I learned that children are FASCINATED by monkey butts.
I was taking my time, knowing that my job would bring me back to the zoo soon, and because I realized I'd never sat and watched monkeys for extended periods of time. I ended up on a shady bench in front of an enclosure of especially active Lion-Tailed Macaques. (There were three of them.)
Lots of children and strollers and sweaty parents trouped by, stopping to count the monkeys, and in some cases to declare that they were ugly or compare their appearance to that a relative. Just about nobody read the educational signs about Macaques. Nobody stuck around for more than two minutes, even if the monkeys were doing something especially interesting, like flinging themselves around the treetops or sitting pensively on the rope swing.
Because part of the program that I work for is about helping children value their own curiosity, it was disheartening to watch all these families stroll by and not inquire about anything. So when a traditionally dressed couple of Muslim women with 4 or 5 children in tow came by and seemed to indulge the young boy's curiousity, I was really happy to see it. They pointed out what the monkeys were doing, talked about the fruit in the cage and concluded that the monkeys must like oranges, and read the signage. Then, they had this exchange:
Mother: And who made the monkeys?
Boy: Allah.
Mother: Good.
And they moved on. I got the impression that the boy had heard and correctly answered the question many times already. Of course it's not surprising that they teach their children their version of the creation story; who doesn't? It was jarring in this context, though, because the zoo takes evolution almost completely for granted, with displays of skeletons and descriptions of how whatever that was has evolved from or whatever it evolved into relates, and because every single other family that had passed was utterly uninterested in reflecting on what they saw any more than if they had been channel surfing through the exhibits.
Also, I learned that children are FASCINATED by monkey butts.
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