The word ‘gallicant’ is a portmanteau of the Latin for crowing rooster.
It’s a reminder to keep things in perspective.
Roosters are famous for thinking highly of themselves; ‘crowing’ is a synonym for bragging. But there’s very little a rooster does that couldn’t be done by any other chicken.
Roosters call over the rest of the flock when they find food. They don’t farm it or hunt it or even venture far from the flock looking for it; they just call it as they see it.
Roosters give a warning cry to the flock when they spot a predator flying overhead or rustling in the bushes. There’s not a lot they can do to drive off a determined predator, having only a beak, spurs, and wings for clubs. But they call ‘em as they see ‘em.
Roosters maintain order. They break up fights and determine each chicken’s place in the hierarchy.
So who needs roosters? They don’t seem to do a whole lot, do they?
But nobody else does what they do. Hens don’t call over the rest of the flock when they find food. Hens are much less likely to call out warnings. And roosters can deter some aggressors just by being willing to try. Hens gather around a rooster because it makes life a little more predictable, a little less risky, a little easier to understand.
What we do at Gallicant isn’t valuable because nobody else could do it; it’s valuable because nobody else is doing it.
Gallicant is a reminder to take pride in small achievements.