I grew up in a middle-class family and struggled at times, but I never felt I was missing out. I was a bit gregarious, most definitely confident, and too outspoken and intelligent. Moreover, I was an athlete, and I was good, a natural, as they say. I had a competitive streak, and my success on the field made me feel as if I could tackle the world. So the night I completely lost my sense of control, where my confidence turned into self-doubt, guilt, and loathing was a loss of innocence that changed the trajectory of my path forever. In looking back, I wouldn’t change it because it made me the woman I am today, however painful the road to redemption has been.

When I was 14, I was taken advantage of by someone I thought I knew, as well as any child could, I suppose. He was my first kiss and my last memory of what it meant to see the world through rose-colored glasses. In an instant, I became a different person. Jaded and untrusting of myself, of others, fearful of the unknown. But worst of all, I felt like I was damaged goods. I had a secret that would make me repulsive to others if they knew; that made me repulsive to myself. Vulnerability became the enemy, and if I felt threatened in any way, I went on the attack, reactive to those I felt the slightest bit of uncertainty. I was out of control. The one aspect of my life that I was able to manipulate fully was my food intake, and it was a severe eating disorder that both became my undoing and my saving grace…12 years in the making.

Although not insignificant, I won’t labor over the details because they are not relevant to this message; instead, my recovery, essentially my survival journey, led me to form Looking Glass Animal Rescue. Only I had no idea that all those years of struggle would give me the strength and passion for doing so. 

 I had every animal imaginable as a child, the most consistent of which was a dog. My mom loved them, and my dad tolerated them; I connected with them. My dogs were my friend, my confidants, and my support. I “talked” to them because they didn’t judge, and that felt safe. I had friends, but I didn’t truly trust anyone – there was too much risk for judgment, and I was way too fragile. If things got tough, I dealt with it internally and undoubtedly negatively impacted those around me, given my aloofness, often perceived as bitchiness. I was challenging to be sure, but it wasn’t intentional. I was trying to survive.

I have always had compassion for animals – they were cute, fluffy, and full of happy energy, but it wasn’t until I was older that I realized just how much I had in common with those without a voice. It started rather innocuously when I came home with a black lab named Bear. He was maybe 3 or 4 years old, and I had heard about him from a friend that said she just saw the owner put him in the back of his pick-up truck. He was going to the vet to be euthanized because “they no longer had time for him.” I was about 17 years old and remembered thinking how wrong that was. Around that same time, the song, Conviction of the Heart was released by Kenny Loggins, and I remember that being my inspiration to do something to right this injustice. There was nothing wrong with Bear; he just needed someone willing to give him a chance. That person was me. I had to save him. So I hopped in my car, drove 45 minutes, and took him home…without my parents knowing. My parents were less than enthused, but ultimately, my father helped me properly place him. I will never forget that.

Years later, after rescuing many dogs, cats, bunnies, birds, squirrels, and hawks (yes, hawks), I realized my connection to these lost souls. I was looking at myself in my younger years, not literally but rather metaphorically, before counseling, medication, and, importantly, the forgiveness of both “him” and myself. I had found a way to survive by turning my struggle into determination. Ultimately, through hard work and sacrifice, I had all the things I had ever thought I wanted: A great job, an amazing husband, two beautiful children, financial stability, and finally, my health. Yet, something was missing. I needed to give back and make a difference somehow. I survived, came full circle, and it has become my mission to help these helpless souls find the determination to do the same. Playing in the background all these years has been that song. It is now my rescue’s theme song and serves as my reminder that the courage of my convictions is the only thing standing in the way of my making a difference in the healing of animals AND people.  

It’s true, I could have focused on the homeless, medical research, children, or any other cause imaginable, but it appears my calling is for those whose voices are muted both because they don’t speak our language and (mostly) because people aren’t honestly listening. Society is fickle, and animals, in particular, are often seen as a commodity to be discarded when they are no longer convenient. It is especially true if they are deemed broken, imperfect, or otherwise less than. To frequently discarded and overlooked. If they need medical help or behavioral therapy, they are passed over, sinking further into the shadows until their future rests on the sharp side of a needle. No one ever asks “why” they are the way they are or “how” they can help because, let’s face it, behind the “happy mask” that most folks wear, to acknowledge that which is less than tidy is a risk too significant. I empathize with that and can only do so because I was there for many years in my own way. It is why I can’t turn a blind eye.

I have finally accepted that I will never be perfect, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. I have, however, acknowledged that there are things that I can control, and those are my attitude and my actions. That starts with self-awareness and transparency; progress does not equal success, nor does it have to, and a belief that I can make a difference. I learn every day from our community, my family, and even myself, as I often try to reflect on my actions to keep myself in check. That translates directly into LGAR. We share our successes and failures; we operate with integrity; we make decisions in the spirit of our mission and with the best intentions. And we ask for advice a lot because there is always another side to the coin. We accept mistakes without judgment, expect them, and do not look to shame others for them because we are all human and maybe even “damaged” in our own way.

The name Looking Glass Animal Rescue is very purposeful. It represents how I felt for so long – Things are not always as they appear to be – and ties directly into our mission: Saving the sick, injured, neglected, and abandoned. In short, we give second chances to those, two-legged and four, who were failed, dismissed, and suffered due to human apathy and impatience. We see past the label, reaching down into their despair to carry them until they are healthy enough, in body and mind, to stand proud once more. 

So, there it is. It was a song that gave me the inspiration and the courage to step outside myself and do for others which, unknowingly, helped me heal from my own broken past. I carried this with me and wanted to share this with you as life is often too busy to appreciate the impact a brief exchange can have on a person, like listening to a song’s words. Rescue is complicated. We are always in financial (and emotional) debt, stressed, and exhausted. Still, we are always flush with goodwill striving to make a positive difference in the world by rising from the ashes instead of sinking further into them. Our community inspires me each day. I hope this introduction does the same for you, perhaps giving you a small smile when you read it, as you too are reminded that it is the simple things that can have the most significant impact on change.

Paws up,

Jody Harris-Stern

Wife, mother, full-time executive, animal rescuer…exhausted.

“No one can make you inferior without your consent.”

– Eleanor Roosevelt