I had about 20 minutes to view as much of the Museum of Natural History as possible (the museum doesn’t charge after 5:00 pm). This is hardly enough time to appreciate all it’s offerings, so I had to choose my exhibition quickly and with as much deliberation as possible. I decided on the Spitzer Hall of Human Origins.

On my way towards the hall I had to pass through the North American Forests exhibit. Over the entrance I noticed a Kenyan Proverb, “Treat the earth well: it was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your children.”  (I had one of my “wow” moments; a complete err in words that would be meant to mean the most delicate an inexpressible of things.)

The piece and history of the giant sequoia tree that resides in this ecological journey caught my attention as it played a supporting role to this proverb. The sequoia, which was cut down in 1891, had survived for more than 1,300 years (its full height exceeded 300 feet). Around the central point of the tree slice are concentric rings (some of which are invisible to the naked eye); each of these represents one year’s growth. Conveying the immense age of the tree are markers on some of the growth rings corresponding to significant historical events, such as Charlemagne being crowned Holy Roman Emperor (800 A.D.). It was a humbling experience to be looking at something in nature that was around long before my time, something that held steady and rooted as a culture evolved.

Humans, like all species, are a product of evolution. The Hall of Human Origins, where I was to spend my last few minutes  in the museum, presents  evidence  (fossils, genetic data, and artifacts) that scientists use to assemble the evolutionary story of our taxonomic family; the hominids (some things I still remember from my eighth grade biology class). One of the sections posed a question: “What makes us human?” The answers explores the characteristics that make humans unique; language, art, music, brain functioning, and technology.

It seemed too simple, and it was the philosophy student in me that begged a more complex answer. What makes us human to me has typically meant more than what separates us from other species; a constant push to be “more human” (as my old professor, Dr. James Marsh would say) seems to have something to do with introspection and self-discovery. And, as the security guard urged me out of the exhibit, I felt disappointed that the answer wasn’t going to be found, not the way I needed it.