Five Reasons to Envy Geese

Kyle Harris

On a lonely winter day, it’s natural to envy the geese munching grass next to the frozen ponds in City Park. We know soon they’ll fly further South toward warmer climates and tastier roots. Sure, geese can be aggressive. They squawk and cackle, peck and charge, sometimes in mass. But who cares how they treat us obnoxious humans? We don’t envy their social skills; we envy their community, their nomadic life, and more.

In celebration of our natural jealousy toward these honkers, here are five great reasons to wish you were a goose.

Geese are naturally androgynous. No external features indicate a goose’s sex. Were we geese, we could play with our gender presentation, and our flock would get it: Gender is malleable. Nobody would ask annoying questions like, “But what were you born as?” or “What are you really?” (Of course, geese don’t have opposable thumbs, the ability to sew, or fashion-sense, so even though we humans suffer from sexual dimorphia, we can happily shift our gender presentation more fluidly than our feathered friends.)

Geese travel thousands of miles each year. For the wanderer in us, how can we not envy the birds’ journey up and down the continent without cramped seats, luggage checks, long lines, and crotchety seatmates with daggers for elbows? Sure, we have cabin-controlled air, but imagine the wind blowing through your feathers as you fly in a gigantic V formation with hundreds of your best friends and enough space between you to honk but not feel claustrophobic. Lucky ducks.

Geese are natural survivors. In the 19^th and 20^th centuries, pâté-hungry hunters nearly snuffed whole species, but geese honked out a song: “I Will Survive.” It’s a little known fact they taught it to Gloria Gaynor, who adapted it into her notorious anthem of resilience.

Geese have fabulous names like the bar-headed goose (an unapologetic drunk), the snow goose (a cokehead), the emperor goose (a drag king extraordinaire), pink-footed goose (a dancing queen), and Ross’ Goose. “Wait,” I hear you ask. “Who was Ross?” According to an article in “Time Magazine” called “Science: The Scabby-Nosed Wave”  — scabby-nosed wave is a superior title for the bird, if you ask me — the goose was named after Bernard R. Ross, a merchant with the fur trading giant, the Hudson Bay Company. Lucky for the scabby-nosed waves, they didn’t have fur. Canadian geese breed envy in all of us in the United States because of their excellent education system, superior health care, and extraordinary politeness.