Then we went to the top of the fish ladder. There sure were lots of folks standing around gawking at the decaying salmon, multi-generational families huddled over a chain link fence hoping to see some white fish flesh exposed and remnants of carcass flailing about. And how 'bout those real big dead fish sliced open for exhibition at the visitors center. Then it hit me, not all at once, but enough to encourage a stagger back to the car while I mulled over this Great Metaphorical Epiphany. And, deep in a wildlife biology stupor, it occurred to me that everything that was slightly off-kilter about the hatcheries was true of my own environment.
College life is a giant human hatchery.
We are bred in an artificial habitat. We are schooled in how to behave. We are taught what to learn. And if all aspects of the university system work, we are taught how to think on our own two feet and sometimes how to think with our feet but only in the most extensive podiatry clinics. Like students, the Chinook salmon that spawn in the American River are bred in a simulated environment that attempts to recreate what their natural living conditions should be.