Here’s what African elephants and living with SMA have in common
In both cases, adaptation and community are vital
Elephants have long been my favorite animal. I even have a collection of items depicting them. I’m captivated by the majestic giants whose eyes seem to convey vast wisdom and an array of relatable emotions like empathy, joy, humor, and curiosity. So, when I came across an episode of “Jack Hanna’s Into the Wild” that was filmed on an African elephant preserve, I didn’t have to think twice about tuning in.
I learned something new about elephants that day — something that made me feel even more connected to them. As Jack Hanna and his wife watched an elephant herd at a drinking hole, they noted that none of the animals had the trademark tusks we associate with them. Their guide explained that the tuskless faces are a recessive genetic trait.
Tragically, poachers have hunted elephants for their ivory tusks to the point that they don’t have the opportunity to breed and pass the trait to new generations. Since the tuskless elephants aren’t targets for poaching, they’re the ones living long enough to breed, thus making their rare genetics more prominent in the population.
Adapting to rare genetics
Do you know what else is a recessive genetic trait? Spinal muscular atrophy (SMA). Two SMA carriers — about 1 in 50 people — have a 25% chance of having a child together that’s affected by SMA, which are the same odds that two elephants carrying the tuskless gene have of passing the trait to their offspring.
These numbers make the chances of inheriting any recessive characteristic relatively low, but it’s clearly not impossible. Being among the rare few who do acquire these traits is not necessarily a bad thing, though.
For the elephants, it offers a new kind of protection. Because poachers aren’t interested in elephants without tusks, they’re safe from what could otherwise be their most dangerous predator. While they may need to adapt to living without tusks, these elephants have an opportunity to live longer, more peaceful lives filled with each other’s company.
Make no mistake: The hunting of elephants for ivory is inexcusable, and I wish none of them needed this unlikely advantage. But until the world changes, I’m glad that some do have it.
Because of my severely weakened muscles, living with SMA also requires adaptation. I must rely heavily on support from other people (and several machines) to help me go about my day and stay as healthy as possible. The assistance I need includes all basic hygiene, preparing food and tube feedings, repositioning my body, administering medications, breathing support, accessing my devices and activities, and some level of aid with everything else I need or want to accomplish.
There are days when adapting to life with a disability is challenging, and I imagine my beloved elephants also have challenging days. In a column comparing his life to a nature documentary, my friend Ben Hofmeister, a columnist for Multiple Sclerosis News Today, notes that these shows often offer glimpses of animals in some type of danger. “Then, just as I reach a peak level of concern for some obscure mollusk, David Attenborough’s calm voice informs me that a predator is approaching and now the mollusk is in mortal peril,” Ben writes.
In his life with multiple sclerosis, Ben is like the mollusk, and the threat to his safety is the potential progression of his symptoms. But unlike while watching a documentary, Ben can do something in this situation. He says, “This time I’m the creature whose life I’m invested in. I can’t change the channel, but I’m not simply a distant, concerned viewer, anyway. I can and will advocate for myself and seek the comfort of my herd.”
The benefits of finding a herd
But what about the advantages of living with a disability? If the elephants have the benefit of safety because of their genetic mutation, isn’t there something I gain from mine? The answer is a resounding yes.
The answer lies in the herd that Ben mentioned. Elephants are communal animals, and when surrounded by networks of love, support, and compassion, so are most people.
I could actually list numerous benefits to living with SMA, but the opportunities to live in community — with others who have disabilities, our families, healthcare professionals and advocates, and those we inspire along the way — are among the greatest. Being rare might come with challenges, but it also invites us to come together. We get to tackle those obstacles as a team, grow closer to each other, and build meaningful bonds. Maybe it’s something that can even lead us toward making the world a better place.
Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.
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