Philadelphia Zoo Website Proposal - User Story
(We got the job!)
2002, Agency: Fusebox
His red eyes glowed in the dark as the bat swooped down near my head.
For a moment I forgot that there was a pane of glass between us – that I was at the zoo. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at my son, who was smiling and happy for the first time in weeks.
Our move to Philadelphia was tough on Max – going to a new school, and leaving his friends. Recently, while taking one of our walks through the neighborhood, we saw a large balloon floating high in the air. Intrigued, we walked closer until we could read the word "Zoo" emblazoned on the side. An avid animal lover, Max started his pleading right away, "Dad...?" I knew an excursion was imminent.
When we returned home, I found the Philly Zoo website. Max sidled up beside me, asking "What kind of animals do they have?" We ended up looking at bios of everything from elephants to giraffes to blue-eyed lemurs. I was happy to find that we could buy our tickets online, and avoid waiting on long lines since springtime was likely the Zoo's busiest season. Next, we printed out a map to plan our route of exploration.
The next Saturday morning, after I downed a strong cup of coffee, we were off. I had secretly stayed up late the night before, finding out more interesting facts online about some of the animals we were going to see – so I could tell Max.
"Do you know that studies show that some penguins mate, uh, I mean marry for life," I blurted out. Luckily Max was so entranced watching the birds dive into the water, that he missed my comment altogether. Later, in the nocturnal house, I moved on to more age-appropriate facts, such as telling Max that bats are the only flying mammals, and correcting him when he asked me, "Are bats really blind?" I explained to him that bats can see, but also rely on their sophisticated sonar system for moving about at night. Max closed his eyes, put his arms out in front of him, and started moving through the dark room, looking like a mini-Frankenstein. He soon bumped into another young boy, "Oops, guess my hearing's not as good as a bat's." They laughed.
By the time we had followed the map – hiking through rainforests, traversing deserts, and forging our way through the jungle – we were exhausted. "Can I just look?" Max asked as we passed by a gift shop. When we went into the store, Max immediately ran over to a stuffed snow leopard. These animals had been one of his favorites on this trip. He gave me his big-eyes-and-shy-smile combo that he knows I can barely refuse, but, as his birthday was coming up, I held out.
Back at home; I went to the Philly Zoo website again. This time, I went directly to the online shop. There was the stuffed snow leopard that Max adored. And, for a donation, an option to "adopt" this endangered species. I chose both. Why not teach Max early about conservation? Also, knowing that Max would want to return to the Zoo to see the leopards, plus new arrivals, I signed up the whole family for Zoo membership. Then, I completed the online survey, entering my son's e-mail address so he would receive the Zoo's newsletter to keep up to date with his new animal friends.
By the time Max's birthday arrived, he even had a few human friends to invite over. After the cake, I gave him the Snow Leopard, along with the adoption certificate. His eyes lit up. He was so excited that he could actually help keep this animal on the planet that he asked if he could re-do his birthday wish.
I was pleased to see my son enthusiastic about helping the animals, but to me, our trip to the Zoo meant more than that. It was the day, I think, that Max felt less lonely, remembered that the world was full of wonderful, mysterious creatures—and decided that maybe moving to Philadelphia wasn't so bad after all.
