Which Side Is Contained?

Cindy couldn't hide the excitement on her face. She'd been waiting for this day to come all week. Her upcoming excursion to the aquarium with her cousin and parents was all she talked about with her friends at recess, all she wrote and drew about in her journal during writing workshop, and all she daydreamed about during math. Her obsession didn't stop when the school day was over. She imagined all the colorful sea creatures she would see on the bus ride home and once she was there, relayed her mind's creations and guesses to her parents. Even the family dog wasn't immune to her fascination: Cindy would happily talk the ear off of anyone who would listen, and sometimes that meant her subject was Fargo.

Now that she had crossed the threshold and was within the blue aquatic-like walls of the building that housed thousands of gallons of fresh and sea water, she was beyond elated. Her cousin, Karen, was the first to point it out:

"Cindy, I've never seen you this speechless before!"

Her dad chipped in, "Yeah, she's been a little chatterbox all week, talking nonstop about this place, pondering all the wonders it could behold!"

"Alright guys, let's take it easy on her," her mom interjected before the teasing became any more intense. She knew how passionate Cindy was about the water; she could see her soul just light up every time she thought or spoke of it, even to the dog she'd noticed recently.

Cindy wasn't paying attention to any of them anyway. She couldn't care less about their little jabs. She was in heaven. She couldn't even wrap her mind around where to begin. Should she go left? Should she turn right? Should she start out by going up the stairs and working her way down or the opposite: going down to the basement level and working her way up from there in a clockwise manner? Whichever fashion in which she navigated the facility, Cindy knew that regardless of how tired anyone else got, she was going to see the whole aquarium, without exception.

Cindy wanted to be a marine biologist when she grew up. She had known it for some time now, ever since she first learned it was a job people could do when she was watching a nature documentary on television and inquired how it was that the people making the film knew all these incredible facts about sea creatures and the world in which they inhabited. Her mother had informed her that it was due to the work of marine biologists. For Cindy, that was it. That was the moment her whole world changed. She had never been more fascinated and enthralled by something in her entire life, and deep down, she knew she would never be by anything else with this kind of intensity.

Her mom, knowing about this developing interest, planned this trip to a nearby aquarium, knowing it would be a defining moment of her young daughter's future career, starting her off on a path to success.

"Cindy, where do you want to start, Honey? Lead the way," her mom's voice punctured through her spiraling mind when she heard her name. Cindy started in the direction where she felt the strongest pull in her gut at the moment. It turns out, she was headed to the giant sea turtles. This shouldn't have come as a shock to anyone in the party, because those were some of her most favorite creatures. The turtles were in a large tank which was situated centrally in the building. She was in awe of their sheer size and majesty when she approached, staring at their shells as they gracefully glided through the water. But the sea turtles weren't the only creatures in this tank, far from it. There were hundreds of other species of basically any kind of ocean life Cindy could conjure up in her head in this tank. She watched as schools of fish swam by, close-knit and moving in unison. She admired the sea anemone and its resident clown fish, poking its head out ever-so-slightly, to check, once again, if the coast is clear. She admired the coral, stoic and vibrant. She even thought she saw some plankton floating by and marveled at their microscopic world. But the creature that changed her whole perspective on the ocean world was this solitary, little shark she spotted passing by in the most calculated manner.

In what was a very out-of-character move for the little shark, it decided to turn toward the outside of the tank and steal a glance at the gawking visitors. Normally, he wouldn't let his eyes linger too long on the dry, two-legged subjects, on the rare occasion that he decided to acknowledge their presence at all, but today, someone pulled him in. The little shark began drifting toward the outskirts of the tank, abandoning the well-worn path he swam along the middle day in and day out.

Cindy had never felt a pull so strong, she moved in closer to the glass as well, inching her feet slowly as the little shark swam. She reached the glass and pressed her palms against the cool surface. Her awaiting eyes, locked with those of this aquatic animal. The little shark reached the glass and slowly swam up against it in one direction, brushing its side on the surface, just across the barrier in the exact spot Cindy had her hands on the other side. It then turned around and did the same thing in the opposite direction before slowing down to float more or less in place in the water-world version of standing in front of Cindy.

In that moment, Cindy's mind was transported into the tank. She had no idea how it was happening, but somehow the shark was teaching her everything about his existence, transferring it to her brain. She traveled the path that he did countless times each day around the circle. She avoided the same obstacles that he avoided. She anxiously awaited and then consumed the food he had every day. She knew the boredom. She felt the ache for more. She had the yearning to be wild. She understood this misunderstood creature. She vowed, in that moment, to dedicate her life to spreading awareness to these beautiful creatures' true nature and the reality that creatures faced in aquariums, as well as the hazards, many man-made, especially plastic pollution, that they faced in the wild.

As this transfer of knowledge was occurring, in her direction, it happened the same way in the opposite direction as well. The little shark understood the wonder of an unknown world, the curiosity that leads people to want to discover more, to understand it and figure out how it works, and the beauty of the ecosystem in which he was a part. He understood the complexity of the system the little girl was in, the lack of freedom that she had in her life, despite being on the outside. The way each moment of her day was planned out and pre-determined for her from the moment she awoke to the point in the day when she finally laid her head back down upon her pillow to rest, made the little shark realize that maybe he need-not be jealous of the illusion of freedom that her life presented. In fact, he felt kind of bad for her, after all, coming here to see how other creatures lived their lives was the highlight of her existence, and that felt somewhat sad to the little shark. Between the money pressures and capitalistic control of every aspect of life for these humans, it seemed like a rather sad existence indeed. Always being made to feel like you don't have enough, like you are not good enough, like you'll never have enough or be enough, seems like more of a controlling prison than the tank that contains all of the little shark's physical existence. The more they produce, the more there is to lack, the more there is to want, the worse off a person can be by comparison to the new norm, yet they don't seem to see it. They play right in, just like the system wants them to, and they even mistakenly think that going into debt to obtain the things is just a natural, even joyful, thing to do. That's not how animals act in the wild and the little shark knows, on a deep level, that this little girl, that most humans in general, are no more wild and free than all the sealife in the tanks in all of the aquarium.

This connection, this revelatory experience, left them both feeling better than when they began their day, although, in some ways worse. It was a bittersweet experience, really. The little shark felt less deprived, less bitter, more grateful, despite never thinking it would happen. Cindy felt sad for the shark, and all the other sea creatures who lived their life so cooped up, stuck in such a routine; she was too young to see yet the irony and the parallels with her own existence. But she left there that day knowing she had a purpose in life: to do what she could to spread the word about the realities of aquariums and the truth of the gentle nature of the all-too-often misunderstood shark.

The moment was pierced by the sound of Cindy’s mother asking her if she was ready to move on to a different exhibit: “Honey, you ready to check out some other animals? I wonder what we’ll discover next!”

“Yeah, so do I,” Cindy replied, though she was still in the tank with the shark in her mind. She knew that little guy would travel with her for a while now, serving as her constant companion, even if they were not physically near.

Before they parted ways, they silently thanked each other for the knowledge, wisdom and experience. And just like that, as suddenly as the moment had begun, with a slow blink of understanding and respect, the shark returned to his normal path along the inside of the tank, and Cindy did the same.