By Layli Maparyan, Ph.D. (President, University of Liberia)
We all invoke the metaphor of the caterpillar becoming the butterfly, marveling at nature’s miracle of transforming something humble and homely into something beautiful and breathtaking. But do we ever really ask what happens inside the cocoon (or, as I learned to call it, the chrysalis)?
One day, I became curious about this and looked it up. What I discovered really deepened the metaphor and transformed my thinking about change.
You can Google this: What happens inside the chrysalis is that the caterpillar digests most of its own body into what scientists call a “tissue soup,” and then a small group of highly specialized cells that remain, called “imaginal cells,” act like a blueprint to reorganize and rebuild everything into the butterfly, structure by structure – wings, legs, mouthparts, and antennae, for example – around the few parts that remain from the caterpillar, such as the brain and digestive system.
This messy yet organized process results in the exquisite creature we call a butterfly – and it is the process we call metamorphosis.
There’s a common saying – “The caterpillar must die for the butterfly to be born” – that we can now see is only partially true. The caterpillar never really dies, but it dissolves beyond all recognition before emerging again as its truest and most marvelous form. And it is worth noting that the butterfly itself cannot even be born without passing through the vise of its own restrictive chrysalis.
A friend of mine who loves butterflies and tries to preserve a rare species once told me a story about a butterfly enthusiast who tried to “help” a butterfly be born from its chrysalis. This enthusiast watched a butterfly who had cracked its chrysalis open struggle and strain to get out. She thought she could help by cracking the chrysalis open so that the butterfly could escape faster.
But what she sadly discovered was that the butterfly died soon thereafter. Why? Because part of nature’s design is that butterflies must squeeze themselves through the tight opening of the small crack in their chrysalis in order to squeeze out extra fluid from their wings before they can fly.
In the absence of this, their wings are heavy and wet, and flight is not possible. Therefore, they cannot eat, move, or function, so their life ends right there. Sometimes, the process simply must follow nature’s course, step by step.
You may wonder what all of this has to do with the University of Liberia, and why I am choosing to write at length about the life cycle of Lepidopterae. The reason is this: It is time for the University of Liberia to undergo a metamorphosis. Together, we must build that chrysalis, that cocoon, within which the university can be transformed into the next highest and best version of itself.
The caterpillar has its own glory, but there is time when the glory of the caterpillar must yield way to the glory that will be the butterfly, and there’s no shortcut outside passing through metamorphosis.
Those caterpillars who are lucky – those who are not eaten by birds, bats, lizards, wasps, or spiders – pause to build their chrysalis and then plunge into transformation. Once the process has started, there is no turning back. The caterpillar lets go of all that is not essential so that what is its essence can be brought into its more beautiful and spectacular form.
Is UL ready for a metamorphosis? Or would it rather succumb to all the predatory forces that would like to see its destruction? We can plot our own demise, or we can chart our own transformation. We are at that decision point now.
The soul of UL is its ability to provide excellent education for Liberians – to take Liberia’s brightest young minds and transform them into Liberia’s leaders: true intellects, selfless nation-builders, and icons of Liberia’s vibrant culture. Should we choose to proceed into metamorphosis, this “brain” of who we are will survive and, indeed, become more considerably more powerful. If we choose the other path, all that brainpower will die on the proverbial vine.
To the untrained eye, metamorphosis – what happens inside the cocoon or chrysalis – looks like a miracle. But it is actually quite a scientific and labor-intensive process. It requires breaking down what no longer serves the future and building up the things that do.
It requires intentionality and design thinking – imagination and expertise combined – and it requires working together towards a goal in a unified and coordinated fashion.
Importantly, the new body can’t form if chaotic conditions reign; it can’t form if violence keeps attacking all the new structures as they take shape; it can’t form if the destructive forces outweigh and overpower the constructive forces. Under such conditions, the butterfly doesn’t have a chance. If you force the chrysalis open, the butterfly expires before it gets a chance to fly.
Let’s take a look at the UL of today and ask ourselves honestly – is it the beautiful butterfly that we all know is possible, or is it the caterpillar craving the transformation that will bring that beautiful form into being? Or worst-case scenario, is it destined to die in the mouth of those who would eat it for their own survival?
Liberia’s glory is tied to UL’s glory. Metamorphosis may seem painful, but it is the passage through which we must travel if we are to get to the other side of who we can be. It is time for us to come together and decide that the glorious future of the nation’s flagship university is the one we want – and are willing to work for. Do we want to crawl, or do we want to fly?
