The "Dance" of the Great Frigatebird

We've all seen it, either on "film" as part of our elementary school experience, or while tuning in our televisions to watch one of those nature programs. You know the one, where a photographer has us watching a flock of normal looking black birds with red throat markings, when it is suddenly revealed that the "red markings" are actually gular sacs that the Great Frigatebirds then inflate into startling red balloons.

The same birds that were, just moments before, peacefully hanging around in the brush and trees doing what birds usually do, now have the viewers laughing out loud as we watch this natural wonder. The Great Frigatebirds attempt to intimidate the males, and attract a female, as they scamper about in every direction in an effort to posture themselves and their bulging bags of hot air into a position for all to admire. 

I have not thought about the Frigatebird since elementary school. It was in a meeting that I recently attended that these birds came back to visit my mind's eye. I knew many of the people who were in attendance. Every one of them has a unique personality. Some of these individuals are funny, while others are pensive. Some are in seasons of great joy, others deep sorrow. All have college degrees. They have their own variety of life experiences. If you were to talk to any of them one-on-one, I think you would like them. I do. 

However, once the meeting began, much like our feathered friends, posturing prevailed. As I continued to observe this phenomenon, I asked myself, "What is happening? How, and why, does one learn to inflate and deflate to the rhythmic call of the status quo?" At first I wanted to laugh out loud as I did when I first saw the Frigates on film, but my emotion quickly turned to sadness as I fought the impulse to shout, "Stop it!" Don't get me wrong, I know I have had my moments of trying to join in the dance, but I usually end up being told that I "march to a different drummer." I used to think that was a bad thing, but I have since concluded that in being fully human, we are so much more than a colorful sac of inflated air.

I am an elementary school teacher. Most of the children have not yet learned all of the unspoken rules of posturing. However, like adults, they do know fear. What if nobody ever notices me? What if I don't get a chance to contribute? What if I never feel successful? What if you get to know who I really am, and you don't like me? What if I end up all alone? What if...? If we are honest with ourselves, we may admit that we ask these same questions. 

While one might find a sense of security in assuming an exaggerated pose or attitude, I believe that such behavior is not conducive to bringing about a true collaborative environment where the power of individual talents and critical thinking is embraced, and then released. I can say with confidence and joy, from personal experience, that it is in such an environment that great things can happen to both the individuals, and the group. This can be done. I have witnessed it many times throughout my life. We must have the courage to seek the truth of what is revealed when we embrace the process of understanding personal uniqueness, as well as our differences in relationship to each other. 

Everyone has the need to belong... to be a welcomed and valued member of the human network. So the next time we find ourselves with the flock, peacefully hanging around in our habitats, and we feel pressure to succumb to a superficial sense of security through the awkward posturing of our own version of an inflated gular sac, may we have the strength to trust that what we hold inside is enough. It won't be easy, but let's take the same energy that is required to learn the metaphorical "dance" of the Great Frigatebird, and channel it into learning the process of identification and validation of the unique individual as a contributing member of  a whole society.