I try in my personal and professional life to be inclusive in all ways. I think I have made strides with people. I’m sure that I still have work to do. More recently, I’ve worked at taking a more inclusive view of animals and birds. Sadly, I have always drawn the line with insects—Cicadas in particular. It is possible that my dislike of insects, generally, and cicadas, in particular, is based on fear and trauma, like many other of our biases. As a 10-year-old riding back from swimming lessons, I was swarmed by cicadas, crashed my bicycle, and was knocked temporarily unconscious. As a result of this head injury, I lost my sense of smell for about 40 years (its back) and my memory of ever having watched ‘The Donna Reed Show.’ Go figure. I blame cicadas.
Anyway, in the spirit of my personal journey of discovery and inclusion; and since they are back this year regardless of how I might feel about them, I have decided to work towards a better understanding of these very interesting contributors to the great tapestry of Nature. Apparently, the cicadas that arrive this year have been sleeping for 17 years. Wow. I’m happy with 7 hours. I’ve been generally happy with this cycle, personally, although I would like it even better if they cycled like Haley’s Comet.
But, as I seek to understand cicadas, I found myself considering their journey from the perspective of a cicada. It must be quite the party. Wake up and all your friends and colleagues are there. Anything goes. Wilder than Mardi Gras, I suppose. Must be fun if you are a cicada. But then I got to thinking, there are early cicadas—the first to arrive. That might be pretty cool to be there at the beginning. It must be amazing to see everyone wake up and take flight. But what about those who oversleep? There must be a sad few who wake up just as the party is ending. Maybe even one or two who wake up and the party is over. All around, your friends and colleagues are leaving or have left. They tell you ‘what a great party’ but you will never know for yourself.
I can think of how the life of the cicada parallels our own in at least one interesting way. Some of us are quick to engage—ahead of the curve, if you will. Most of us are on time. And then there are those of us who really struggle to embrace anything new or different. Fear? Bad experiences? Just slow to warm up? Regardless of the cause, we should always be aware of who we are in the forward march of progress. For those of us who seek to help others, the ‘party’ is their success. As you pour yourself into efforts that seek to transform people’s lives, remember the impact of your timing and your choices. You do have choices in life. The choices you make define you. Try not to be the last cicada.
Dr. John Lyons is the director of the Center for Innovations in Population Health and Professor of Public Health at the University of Kentucky