Why I Have Ferrets . . .
I am a teacher, ethnographic researcher, writer and parent. In short, I am an advocate for children and adolescents. While being with young people brings great joy, being a child advocate is work that requires a person to get up close and personal with some horrifying, heart breaking, frustrating subject matter. I am also the owner of two ferrets, Patsy and Coconut. These ideas may seem disconnected, but hang with me for a moment. In my world they are intricately woven together.
People ask me all the time, “Why ferrets?” I get it. They are a little smelly (though ours are bathed regularly) and a little freaky with their weasel-like movements and floppy bodies. My answer is always “because they make me laugh every day.” They spend their days climbing in and out of boxes through the tiniest places they can find, they come running in their silly awkward gate and greet you on hind legs when called, and they snore in a squeaky, crazy cadence. I need the laughs because my news stream is full of horrific events: mass shootings in schools, the return of Boko Haram to prominence, and the existence of childhood-robbing mental health issues like Reactive Attachment Disorder. ,Something that can be counted on for hilarity is necessary.
The real reason we have ferrets is because my dear husband saw The Beastmaster sometime around 1984 and decided at that moment he, too, would have two furry sidekicks who would ride in his pocket and help him save the world from insane dictators. Ours are in training.
The ferrets keep me sane. I’m not alone. A good friend of mine has goats and llamas that serve the same purpose. They keep me in a place where I can return to my Twitter feed and face what’s there. I can sit on my porch with them scurrying around my feet and research the original Boko Haram girls who were never found, who still live tormented lives all these years later, but whose names aren’t on our lips because they aren’t the news story of the day.
I can research and understand Reactive Attachment Disorder, an often misunderstood and misdiagnosed illness that takes center stage in my home, and keeps my mind focused on the vast number of children who suffer from it with no help — through no fault of their own. These are children who were neglected and/or abused from a young age — innocent children who survived, but continue to bear the scars of survivalists who learned to only trust themselves. These are children who struggle to attach to the adoptive parents they so desperately need and want because, in their minds, that kind of unconditional love is dangerous, not to be trusted. Not really possible.
At the same time, I can listen to the bright, brave children of Florida crying out for our help. I can remain with them, listening, instead of looking away, or even worse, looking for an easy answer to just make it end. I can keep looking and listening and digging and finding a real answer that may actually work, no matter how long it takes. Ferrets keep me in a place where the work that needs doing can be done.
And more than that, ferrets remind me of the innocence of childhood and how it is worth protecting, for all kids. I am nearly broken by the fact that innocence is not currently being protected in our world. I am driven to be a better researcher and a more articulate person on behalf of children. I am driven to educate myself and hone these skills so that I might teach children to do the same. And when I feel I have to look away or lose my mind, I watch those furry little beasts for a moment, take a deep breath and then get back to it, the real work that changes lives. Careful, balanced research, deep thought and conversation, and the articulate rendering of it all.
As adults we need to stop looking away and stop dropping emotional vitriol into the crisis of the day while we leave children in unspeakable conditions as we go on with our lives. We need to find our ferrets, the things that keep us sane in the face of all of this horror for children so that we might work for and teach children. That is what yields real policy and change.
