To be human is to be chimpanzee: The legacy of Jane Goodall
By Kaashvi Ahuja | October 10I remember little from my early years in central London, though the city still feels like an echo of home. I was 4 years old when we left, and my childhood memories exist mostly as fragments: my favorite park, the hum of traffic and a toy monkey. This monkey was about the size of a small bag of potatoes, poorly stuffed with uneven stitching, and it was my favorite thing in the entire world. I would sleep with it; I would eat with it. I was devoted to this humble lump of fabric and, as far as I was concerned, it was under my protection. We all remember our childhood object of affection, fiercely defended with disproportionate love. To protect something fragile simply because it cannot protect itself — this is, in retrospect, our first expression of selflessness and empathy, an instinct we too often unlearn as we grow and mistake detachment for maturity.
