Saving the Rats, Saving the Heart
As I caress my dear dog, everything comes flooding back. I want to write about the animal testing lab, the rats, my trauma, and my mother.
It wasn't me who worked there, but my mother, a working mom with three children. It was a time of highly unregulated laboratories, so we kids were often there, seeing dreadful things that are forbidden for children to see today.
My mother couldn't protect us; she enabled it. Naturally, I am traumatized. I saw invasive, lethal animal experiments that should never be witnessed by a child, not by your own mother performing them, nor by anyone else.
As I release this trauma energy, my view widens. I see how my mother's lab work affected her and the whole family. Through her immense emotional burden, her role as a mother and our relationships were shattered.
An invisible poison ran through our family, still affecting us today. Finding an antidote is difficult, as profound harm against animals is normalized and all seemed unspeakable.
It was our normality. The experiments and the contemptuous treatment of small, dependent rats radiated an unfathomable coldness. Natural impulses to protect living things were absent.
art by Danielle Calibird fernandez
My mother nearly lost her mental health; her guilt and self-doubt destroyed our relationship. Her behavior was conflicted and perplexing, and she suffered from depression until the end.
Yet, there were moments of light: Sometimes she brought rescued lab rats home as pets. Delicate, brave rats with tender pink paws, fine whiskers, and a trusting curiosity. To this day, I recognize their scent and feel fascination for these rodents. And to this day the bitter reflection of a contradiction lives in me: killing rats in the lab, caring for them at home.
Even as my trauma releases, a part remains like my mother's legacy. These gnawing doubts: How dangerous am I to dependent, small beings? How incapable am I of leaving them unharmed, caring without injury? The strong inner drive to save animals from human violence wherever it appears—and there is so much. This deep despair at how little one can do, because the systems for exploiting animals function with overwhelming perfection.
Alongside this, a deep longing arises to rescue them, to make things right, as an obligation to pay off the debt of acts my mother participated in while trapped in that cold system of calculated animal-abuse.
As my childhood trauma resolves, I see our family trauma, acting as an invisible poison tainting our life paths. Even though my mother is no longer with us, we still carry a heavy burden born of her emotional suffering and its lasting consequences. It reveals itself as a task: to finally embody the hidden qualities of her heart—the love she severed from her children and the animals, her undermined capacity to care, and the protection she failed to offer herself and us—and to bring these gifts into the world ourselves. I believe that by rescuing the rats, she also saved a piece of her heart. Like a highly effective antidote to the poison internalized from the laboratories, it continues to work for us children as well.
As my trauma dissolves, I feel the great power in this antidote. The more I experience this power within, the freer I become to turn toward animals with my whole heart. It soothes the subliminally burning pain inside me that resonates when animals trustingly approach.
At the same time, my self-confidence grows that I can care for them with deep respect for their integrity. Thus, the loving heart that was once severed slowly finds its place again, even as I continue to seek ways to protect and rescue animals from laboratories and other violent institutions. In doing so, I also think back on my mother and her suffering as a laboratory technician. Today, I am able to offer her acceptance and forgiveness, even though I still carry painful scars within me.
Healing from these traumas is possible. Loving, healthy relationships where we protect the small and dependent are possible and,more than that, they are an unshakeable reality. That is allowed to become the center of life again.
When my dear dog spontaneously seeks my closeness and invites me to caress him, I consciously allow his pure trust to flow deep into my soul. He knows that I mean him nothing but good. And so, the greatest gift I can give is to trust him and his understanding of me with that same unwavering faith.
Artist Statement
danielle calibird fernandez
This artwork understands atonement not as an endpoint, but as an ongoing practice of healing. Through sustained attention and making, the work attempts to meet personal histories of harm with care, responsibility, and intention. A woman in a lab coat looks down from heaven, asking for forgiveness. Below her, a child and a rat look up at her with peace in their hearts. The sunflower and butterfly signal transformation, while the delicate bubbles hold the free spirits of the animals. Rooted in lingering memories from my time working in laboratory animal research, the project is deeply personal. Through drawing, I work to process these experiences and move toward a sense of inner harmony, accountability, and repair.
Dear Danielle, wonderful artist, soulmate, I feel deeply connected to you. Your artwork based on my text touched me profoundly. It couldn’t be more fitting than the way you created it! Seeing your image gives me a more holistic way to process what happened. Your visual interpretation is so complete and precise. It’s an important milestone in my ongoing healing process and another step on the path toward integrating inner peace, acceptance, and forgiveness. What has become frozen can begin to flow again. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your deeply insightful illustration, your openness, and your understanding. We don’t know each other, but I feel that we know each other on a deeper level. From the bottom of my heart—thank you!
AUTHOR OF saving the rats, saving the heart