William Palka

Have you ever crossed paths with someone extraordinary who unsuspectingly changes not only your assessment of life but the very core of your values? Someone with whom you develop a connection that gives you a total transformation of the purpose and meaning of your life -- so suddenly that you never even had time to plan for it, you just “step forward” and there is absolutely no looking back? I have. His name was Jedi; he was my first dog-child.
Jedi was lying next to me, enjoying the coldness of a Buffalo, New York, winter’s night with the comfort of the warm flames of a fireplace. Feeling empathetically overwhelmed at the thought of Jedi ever having to experience any of what I had just finished reading in Ingrid Newkirk’s book, Save the Animals, I remember Jedi staring at me, along with a paw softly, but noticeably, being placed on my lap. Most of the time this simply meant he wanted to go for his nightly walk, but we’d already had his walk. He was obviously expressing a message that I was struggling to understand. And eventually I got it! I understood. His paw touched me again, almost as if to pat me on my back for finally getting it. I finally realized and accepted the principle that Jedi (and all sentient beings) possess an inner soul, an inner divinity, or a spiritual presence. Accepting this new awareness suddenly generated an onslaught of critical observations, evaluations and conclusions that would forever change my inner landscape.
A few years after this awakening experience, and already well on the road to becoming a righteous, crusading, frustrated activist (for many a worthy cause), I was fortunate enough attend a Sowing Seeds Workshop and meet Zoe Weil, whose utmost strength lies in the moral compass that she lets guide her life. She pointed me in the direction of humane education.
In 2006 I was accepted as a volunteer humane educator by the Arizona Humane Society for their Camp Compassion. There I was given the freedom to develop my own curriculum, the main focus of which would be on critical thinking, empathy development, and compassionate living skills.
Currently I’m instructing a humane education class of 12-16 high school students at my Unitarian Universalist Church. We meet twice a month for two hours and find time for a wide variety of learning activities. Last year the students selected Animal Rights/Welfare to study from a list of topics that included Earth Education, Human Rights, Media/Advertising Influence, and Gay/Lesbian Justice. We spent an evening at a vegan restaurant, hosted a “visitor from another galaxy” with whom we compared the treatment of different beings, and scrutinized society’s love of nonhuman animals and how that has translated into how we treat them. My previous first-hand experience with taping undercover video at animal auctions, fur farms, rodeos, circuses and televised debates with vivisectors enabled me to tell the students stories, which they constantly requested (picture sitting around a campfire and telling horror stories).
Another favorite session included the entire class participating in a simulation activity during which each student rotated from standing barefoot on metal milk crates (to simulate the conditions of chickens in battery cages) and being confined to an area the exact dimensions of a veal crate. We closed out our year by pairing off in teams and playing a friendly game of Animal Jeopardy. I bear a proud internal badge knowing that over half the class is now vegetarian, simply because they used their critical thinking skills.
This year’s classes have just started, and the youth have chosen Earth Education. Our classes are vastly unconventional and definitely instill an “outside the box” slant to learning. We all participate in open moral dilemma discussions, role-playing, storytelling and any creative activity we decide to put on trial.
I also feel honored that, just recently, I was asked to participate in a brand new intervention program, which works with youth of all ages who have participated in incidents of animal abuse. I’ve been asked to serve on their Executive Board Committee and to be the program’s humane educator. I’m tremendously humbled to have been chosen for this calling, as I will be aligning myself with psychiatrists, law enforcement, and child development specialist in creating a team to help rehabilitate these youth back to their early natural connections of empathy.
So my epiphany lives on, even with Jedi’s passing nine years ago. I also must mention my second dog-child, who just recently passed on, and in doing so took a decent part of my heart with him. His name was Gandhi and he was every bit as angelic as Jedi. His favorite passion in life was kissing small children, puppies, cats, and peacefully sharing his grassy backyard with wild rabbits that appeared to sense his inner peace enough to eat their grassy meals less then two feet away. Gandhi loved life more then any other being I’ve ever met. His nick-name was “bucket of love.”









