My favorite niche debate is the debate among anthropologists as to what marks the beginning of human civilization. Some say religion, money, tools, and weapons; a gentler sect says that the first markers of civilizations are the baskets or skeletons with healed femurs. I think it’s the cave paintings. Because African painted wild dogs (Lycaon pictus) have also nursed members of their packs back to health after a broken leg and when anthropologists ask, “what makes us civilized?” they’re really asking what makes us special.

Besides, cave paintings mark a very important development: the development of storytelling, the idea that something was worthy of recounting, retelling, remembering. That’s really what I’m getting at when I say civilization started with cave paintings, it started with wanting to tell stories to preserve them.

Perhaps I’m biased because my primary motivator has always been to tell stories and somehow, I want my passion to represent the human condition in its purest form, but I still think I’m right.

Anthropology is a science so here’s my evidence: I work with an organization called Meaningful Teens, tutoring children in basic reading comprehension over Zoom. One week, I’m working with a little girl and she wants to read the Hungry Hungry Caterpillar. I’m thrilled; I love the Hungry Hungry Caterpillar. We read through it in English and she does excellently.

When we’re done, she pulls out her own copy of the Hungry Hungry Caterpillar and holds it up to the webcam. This version is in Spanish.

“Now your turn to read!”

So, I stumble through the book in Spanish.

“¡se encontro convertida en una bellisima mariposa!”

“He was a beautiful butterfly!”

And it was the same painting of a butterfly for both of us. In that moment, I’m more connected with her than anyone. We have this picture of a butterfly and it is uniting us, even though there’s a computer screen between us. This is humanity at its best, I’m certain.

I think that’s something that’s gotten lost. As civilization got bigger and more complex, bigotry, ignorance, and systemic barriers barred members of our civilization from reaching the cave wall to paint and they couldn’t share their story, their mariposa, and they were no longer being heard. When we can’t listen to other people’s stories, it’s hard to empathize with them. As empathy seems to be near an extinction event, making sure everyone can tell their story and be heard is essential.

My solution is also learned from pre-history. Anthropologists have found children’s handprints near the ceilings of caves, far higher than they ever could have reached by themselves. Someone older lifted them up, so they could make their mark. That’s what I think we need to do—and what I try to do in my writing, my work with Meaningful Teens, in helping the little boy at the zoo spot the Mexican Wolf (Canis lupus baileyi)— make sure that every child, no matter where they come from has the education, resources, and support necessary to tell their story and leave their handprint.

 

 
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​Mariposa