The Tulsa Migration – What a disappointing zoo taught us about complicity in broken syste
My wife, Holli, and I had become creatures of habit over the years; homebodies who found comfort in familiar routines. We were the kind of couple who considered a trip to Nordstrom an adventure, so when a long-passed wedding anniversary arrived one year without a plan (shame on me), we decided to go to the Fort Worth zoo and spend some time together walking, learning, admiring, and enjoying each other’s company. The following year, we gladly repeated the process in Dallas, and fortunately, these two zoos are among the top 5 in the U.S. to start with. We’d always loved zoos, and the idea struck us: why not make it a mission to visit zoos across the country every year on our anniversary? Now that sounded like an adventure; tame for some, perhaps, but something interesting to focus on and enjoy outdoors together. This year, for our 25th, the Los Angeles Zoo would be our adventure, a perfect blend of exploration and our shared passion for wildlife. Not to mention, it would be cheaper than a trip to Nordstrom for Louis Vuitton shoes and a matching outfit!
This time, however, like sad birthday balloons three days after the party, our excitement deflated almost immediately. Habitat after habitat greeted us with apologetic signage: “Under Construction,” “Temporarily Closed,” “Exhibit Renovation in Progress.” When we reached the elephant enclosure, a hand-made sign informed us that the elephants had been “relocated to Tulsa, Oklahoma.” Walkways were dilapidated, with conservation messaging placards as faded and weathered as my 1983 Van Halen concert tee, which felt hollow next to overflowing garbage cans, giving the place a gas station bathroom feel. Yet, we trudged forward as losers in the world’s saddest scavenger hunt, because we love zoos, dammit! The big cats were nowhere to be found, and apparently even the gorillas had better things to do that day…and this was early morning when most animals are out in the cooler weather. We began to suspect they’d all collectively decided to relocate to Tulsa with Dumbo’s fam in some covert migration. We stood there, gazing at mostly nothing, as anniversary photo ops were reduced to pictures of vacant dirt and neglected infrastructure — a western ghost town of sorts.
But then, my brain started doing that thing it does when I’m trying to ride out a bad movie because an actor is a “Can’t miss.” The moral weight of this experience settled on us somewhere between the non-existent bear habitat and a temporarily closed leopard exhibit. Here we were as people who pride ourselves on making ethical choices, realizing we were financially supporting a lazy operation that seemed to be treating animal welfare like a low-end rental car. Every step through those dirty walkways felt like another small vote of support. The cognitive dissonance was overwhelming.
Ultimately, I realized that our conflicted love for zoos mirrors how we navigate most flawed systems. We might support public education while seeing schools fail students, or value constitutional ideals while witnessing political dysfunction. We’re constantly weighing whether our participation promotes positive change or perpetuates harmful compromise. However, the worst thing we can do is to concede to laziness. When something is important enough, we should be accountable to invest time in educating ourselves to the point where we accept the little bad alongside the overwhelming good, and then focus on changing the bad. This also illustrates why lumping large groups of people into one category of political party, race, age, or sex is so ridiculous. Little by little, we will find common ground through improving our systems one action at a time without having to address the political elephants and donkeys in the room. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’ve all been relocated to Tulsa anyway.
Tegan Broadwater is an entrepreneur, author, musician, former undercover officer, podcast host, and positive change-maker. His popular book, “Life in the Fishbowl,” details his two-year, deep undercover operation that took down 51 violent Crip gang members. All profits benefit children of incarcerated parents. Learn more about his latest projects at TeganBroadwater.com