A couple years ago me and my kids created an alternate Jane Goodall who talks like an old timey gangster and runs a sweatshop where they manufacture snake pants (pants for snakes)
Her legacy was that new researchers powerbomb a chimp right away to establish dominance the same way you beat up the biggest guy in prison on your first day.
I met her when I was in high school. My mother got tickets and drove all the way to the Rockford Women’s Center where she gave a talk not just about her work on Africa, but how hard it was to be taken seriously by male researchers. I still have her signature on a card somewhere safe. A sight to see.
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Me, nodding: Sure. And yet… I still feel deeply seen.