Risk, Courage, and Women: Contemporary Voices in Prose and Poetry

fire walk

118 fire walk Amy Freeman Lee The bolts of blazing light Slash the curtain Of the night They are the thunderbolts Of Zeus. I tried to snatch them To catch an upward ride, But they are reeling Out of sight Beyond my grasp. I must hasten to make A lasso of my heart And throw the loving rope Before they start To disappear. The choice is there; The courage must be mine To make the fire walk divine. The greatest risk of all is life itself. From the moment of birth to that of death, human beings are consciously engaged in making choices. We are the only sentient beings endowed with this gift for which we pay the inescapable price of personal responsibility. For example, right now I must make a choice of one experience that represents the greatest risk of my entire life. I have narrowed the field to just three: Shall I decide to risk a surgical procedure followed by a year in a body cast or spend my life in the safety of a wheelchair? Shall I engage in a chance to join a group of citizens to fight the Minute Women during the McCarthy era and risk being branded a communist? Or shall I as a representative of the humane movement face the “enemy” in the form of animal laboratory scientists? While each experience has aspects of the physical, mental and the courage of choice 119 spiritual elements of life, the first is primarily physical, the second essentially mental, and the third is overwhelming spiritual. I choose the encounter with the animal laboratory scientists to share with you as an example of a major fire walk in my life. Although I am fully aware of the fact that some medical progress has been made through the process of using animals as subjects of experimentations, I have never believed that we have the ethical, moral, or spiritual right to engage in this procedure. This concept springs from my personal belief as a nondenominational theist that all creatures are part of the divine creation and, therefore, are sacred. My love of animals, which is embedded deep in my soul, is life-long. Frankly, I never held animal laboratory scientists in high regard. Therefore, when I received an invitation from Dr. Harry Rosmiarek, Professor and Director, University of Pennsylvania Laboratory Animal Resources, to speak at a National Convention of animal laboratory scientists in Cincinnati, I was stunned. Later, I learned that he had heard me speak on several occasions. However, it was a brave act on his part to invite me to speak, because at this time his choice would seem radical since it was not customary for anyone from the humane movement to address animal laboratory scientists. I asked him to let me think about it. Then I called John Hoyt, the President of the Humane Society of the U.S., of which I am a Board member. I confess that I had hoped for a way out, but to no avail. President Hoyt informed me that we had been trying to get our foot in these laboratory doors for a long time and here was our chance. My heart sank. I knew I had to give the talk or I would not be able to live with myself again. At this point, I found solace by recalling the words of a friend of mine who was in show business, “I never became a star because I did not have the courage to face the possibility of failure.” I’ve always lived by the principle that if I’m asked to do something, it’s for a specific purpose. And whenever I really dread something, when it begins to show on my personal screen, I know that it is about to manifest itself in my life. I had good cause to dread the experience, because the conference in Cincinnati would not be my debut in this area of lecturing. Several years before, my conscience had made me accept an invitation to address a meeting of military veterinarians who were engaged in animal laboratory science. The conference took place in San Antonio, so at least I would be on home territory. On that occasion, I lucked out by having the advice of my late friend, Mrs. Richardson Hamilton, who was also a Board member of The Humane Society of the United States. She cautioned me about my severe attitude and my thinly disguised anger. When I walked into the...