When it All Falls Apart

I failed and I am not okay

I wrote this post this summer after a weeks long depredation of groundhogs in our back yard. I was, and still am, struggling with the eradication of these relatives as necessary for putting in our garden.

09 June 2023

The most physically and mentally tough being I ever met, was a 4 month old groundhog. I met that groundhog on the day they died.

On the day that groundhog died, it had was three times impaled with spears (blowgun darts) the same length of their body. That fatally and brutally wounded groundhog however, still had the strength and determination to face down their killer. Daring him to come closer with a violent chartering of their teeth, an unwavering stare, and a defiant stance.

I was the killer.

Three weeks prior, I killed this groundhog’s mother. She died trying to escape my trap, not knowing that her desperate attempts to free herself and escape into her burrow literally sealed her doom. I cringe thinking what her last moments together with her young must have been like.

This post is about killing and the toll it takes on those who knowingly take life. I killed those groundhogs (and 11 others) this season so that my family and I could grow food without it being eaten by the residents I was displacing. I tell myself that this string of killings was necessary so that my family could thrive. I said this to myself as I watched that brave young groundhog take their last breaths, giving up a fight they never had a chance to win.

Brutal as these acts are, I remind myself that humans are heterotrophs and in order to live, others must be harmed. A truth that brings me little comfort as I sit still waiting for groundhog youngsters to walk past my hiding place, knowing that once they do, and I spring out to cut off their retreat, they are as good as dead.

Now, they are all dead, and I’m really not okay.

I hate killing and, until this summer, thought I had found a way to live with it. My father and I the mother groundhog, and at the time, that was enough for me to close the circle of remorse and enter into what I thought of, despite my brutality, as good relations with groundhogs. If you feel you must kill you can honor that life by making it part of yours and taking their body into yours.

I couldn’t bring myself to eat the younglings though. Their small developing bodies remind me too much of my own young children and the adorable potential of their young lives. I give the young groundhog bodies to other relatives and even called in turkey vulture who gladly ate.

But I still feel like a monster.

I am deeply and forever in debt to groundhogs. They continue to teach me about myself and the ecology of our backyard and the web of relations I am a part of. I am a better hunter because they were able to evaded my attempts to end their lives for almost a year. And because I’ve figured them out enough to know how to better harvest them, I am better able to feed my family and kill with less suffering. I’m both proud of this learning and experience and disgusted by some of what it took for me to build these skills.

I tried to end these relatives’ lives as quickly as possible, but I was often too impatient and unwise to do so. On the day I killed the toughest being I’d ever met, I also killed their sibling. The sibling foolishly tried to climb back through the raised bed fence they had scaled to access our tomato plants and got properly stuck. A broadside shot through both lungs and heart ended the life of the more foolish groundhog within seconds. After being struck, the groundhog simply jerked in shock, took one step, fell over, and within 5 or 6 breaths was gone. The sadness of that death in proportion to the suffering I imagine they felt.

Since this day I’ve been trying to understand what I’m supposed to take from this killing spree; trying to come to terms with how disturbed I am by what I’ve done. How do I balance my desire to reclaim foodways in a settler colonial society with the hard realities of killing with my own hands? Isn’t more food independence what I want? Am I still willing to take responsibility in this way? Can I live with myself if this is what it takes?

Learning and executing the strategy and tactics of successful hunt is something I find deeply satisfying. To live the acquisition of food that will sustain you, from the field to the plate, is why I love hunting as I feel it fulfills an inherent aspect of what it means to be human. In the first kill of that young groundhog, the one that ended quickly, I had finally done right by these relatives. I had assumed the rights of a predator and fulfilled those responsibilities well.

And then, when I turned to end their trapped and defiant sibling in the neighboring garden bed, I failed…miserably.

I am not okay, and I don’t know if I can ever fully forgive myself.

And I suppose that’s the point. To learn to live with the regret and shame. To always feel the disgust and fear. To embrace the fact that the ledger will never be balanced. To worry about how I or people I care about might be denied a quick death and have to endure suffering at the hands of someone else’s carelessness, impatience, inexperience, or arrogance.

Perhaps the responsibility of living beyond this moment is to meet my end, whatever and however it comes, with the same fierce defiance as that young groundhog. To endure the suffering until I die.

To only give up when I give out.

I’m scared to face that moment when it comes. I’m even more terrified that the relational debt I have accrued in ending my relatives’ lives with suffering may somehow be balanced with the suffering of ones I love. To have to bear witness to a hard death of a family member as penance for the hard death I gave to an entire families of groundhogs. I could not argue with such karma.

But if that should happen, I had a good teacher who showed me how to endure such a trial. Give up only when you give out and fight with everything you have no matter the odds.

I hope after reading this that you’re also not okay. I’m giving you this story to unsettle you as I have been unsettled. So that you can learn from this groundhog family and do right by their sacrifice. They are gone, but the story of their end is important and lives on.

I am the villain, the monster of this story. You should, perhaps think less of me after reading this. I am ashamed by how this story ended, but it needs to be told. By my own hands, I am the only one left to tell it.

I have witnessed true courage. And I will spend my life trying to live up to that example.

What’s in my pocket

This recommendation isn’t for something I carry around, but for something with pockets that I carry around.

The best backpack I’ve ever owned is the Peak Design Everyday Backpack (30L). It does everything, looks great, is durable AF, and just friggin cool. I’ve packed this thing full of tech for research trips, lunches and graded papers for my days at work, and used it as my only piece of luggage for a 4 day conference in Oakland, CA.

I don’t plan to buy another backpack until this one falls apart and so I expect it will be at least a decade before I have to think about doing so. This bag isn’t cheap, but in this case, you get what you pay for; a lot.

If you’re in the market and would like to support this newsletter then you can use the link below to purchase my recommendation. I will make a small commission on the sale (~5%), which will go towards maintaining this newsletter.

• Peak Design 30L Everyday Backpack

Thanks!

Also, thanks to the readers who’ve used my affiliate links already. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it!

What’s in my ear-hole

I finally started listening to André 3000’s newest album, New Blue Sun. I’ve been a huge fan of the eclectic Mr. Benjamin since OutKast’s 2nd album, and like many people, have been eagerly hoping he’d make another rap album.

He didn’t do that, but I find this interview he did explaining why extremely interesting and compelling.

I would LOVE a chance to share space with this guy and talk about the things he brings up in this interview. As for his album, I’m really enjoying it. The music, mood, and vibes really resonate with my Aquariusness and I find my admiration for the artist André 3000 is growing. A seemingly dope human for sure.

What’s on my brain

Still thinking a lot about starting my own online business. This past week I spoke to two dear friends about their own businesses and got some amazing insights and advice.

I’m still hella nervous about the process and what it will take to be successful, but I’m working to stay grounded in the process of creating content and worrying less about the outcome. Just keep showing up, being consistent, and speaking honestly from my experiences.

But I’d be lying if I said I have no interest in this content making money.

The studio is coming together y’all!

Announcements

Sugaring season is about 3 months away! Hard to believe, but it’s true. Check out this video on my first sugaring season. I can’t wait for next year’s harvest!

Thanks for reading!

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I’ll talk to y’all next Sunday.

Cheers,

Jonathan