Considering Hunting Season

November again already. Here in Oregon, the weather is a little more crisp, a little more wet, but still quite mild. The leaves have turned, but still greenery is plentiful. I never really liked autumn in Minnesota and was looking forward to experiencing the season in a new locale.  But even with the distance, every year at about this time, with any modicum of facebook checking, the absurd Northern Minnesota calendar designation known as "deer season" is utterly unavoidable. Each year I try to keep clear of it as much as possible, try to not let it get to me. But every year, people start talking about the anticipation of heading to the shack. And then the pictures start showing up. Oh, the gory pictures. Hunters are so proud of the animals they've just killed. I've always found a strange exhibitionism in these photos, the smiles and the dead animals. I have become so far removed from this culture, but the farther away I get, the more senseless the whole enterprise seems.


Some may say I'm just being too sensitive. But I think that it's the hunters who have become desensitized to the killing. I also know that in my commitment to speaking up for animals, it is difficult to just close my eyes to any injustice, especially one that is so celebrated. Even when I try to shield myself from the images, to not think about it too much, the truth is it still breaks my heart. I've never understood the joy in such a "sport." One of my favorite quotes comes from actor Paul Rodriguez and sums it up perfectly: "Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they’re in the game." This is not a well-matched football game. "It is cruel and inhumane to stalk, injure and murder animals for recreation." (All-Creatures.org) I just don't see anything that can be gained recreationally by taking another life.


Most hunters are quick to defend, giving some variation of the "population control" argument. This argument is, in fact, complete fallacy perpetuated for the benefit of the hunters themselves. The population of deer, as with any species, is able to control itself naturally, and the interference of hunters is not needed. Most state game agencies "manage" the deer populations by purposely inflating them for the hunters to have something to hunt. Any hunter thinking (s)he is preventing the herd from starvation is completely misguided. Starvation is a process of natural selection and hunters rarely kill the weakest, most mal-nourished deer of the herd. Hunting actually PROMOTES overpopulation because the herd will focus on mating and propagating to compensate for the initial dip in population of the herd from the hunt. The argument of population control is simply false justification.


Still others argue that hunting is a family tradition and a way to bond with Dad (or sometimes even Mom). While shared experiences with parents are essential to bonding, they do not need to include animal suffering. Many studies point out that animal violence learned early in life can lead to desensitization, as well as human violence later in life. An Australian academic paper pointed especially to hunting in childhood as a hindrance to empathy development and a precursor to aggressive behaviors. Bonding with a parent can be done through a plethora of more enriching, compassionate activities. If an appreciation of nature and animals is truly the goal, nature hikes and photography are far less invasive and non-violent alternatives.


My own dad continues to hunt and while I wish he didn't, I know I probably won't ultimately change his mind. When I was a little girl, often the whole family would accompany him into the woods. However, even at a young age, I vehemently protested the hunt, begging him through tear-filled eyes to stop. I believe the animal activist in me was born when Dad decided to go after a snapping turtle for "soup." Crammed in the backseat of that old green jeep with my mom, sister, and grandma, I let out a wail for the turtle, climbed over Mom to pry open the door and run down the gravel road screaming at my dad to stop. My outburst made my little sister cry, and eventually Mom and even Grandma were touched and started to tear up. I wouldn't stop until Dad let the turtle go. There was more bonding in the fact that Dad listened to me and shared a moment of compassion then there ever was in any hunting experience.


Make no mistake: I love my dad dearly, but there has been absolutely nothing shared over hunting. I have many fond memories of growing up and spending time with him. But they involve watching old episodes of Dragnet, learning from him to cook and play chess, hearing bedtime stories and creating things together in the wood shop. An appreciation of nature was still cultivated, but for me only when the weapons were left at home and a peaceful walk through the woods or boat ride on the lake was shared.


Call me a hippie or a vegan freak, but I won't be wishing any hunters "good luck" nor will I be congratulating anyone posting pictures of their kill. I am saddened by the callousness of such images and am hoping instead for safe hiding places for all the deer out there. And I will take comfort in the fact that statistics show that hunting is on the decline and the number of people opposed to hunting is increasing. Autumn in Portland is pretty awesome and I'll be focused on enjoying the local culture. I love being able to just throw on a scarf and my trademark flip flops, grab a coffee and take a walk in the rain.