WHO IS BIRD BANDING FOR?
Knowledge, Care, and Harm in Interspecies Relationships
SAGE KRUSCHEL
It is an early Saturday morning in April when I walk into the banding station. Despite the chill, there are many people here to watch the banders that I can barely squeeze inside. There are even a few children, yet the room is silent save the chirps, warbles, whistles, and trills of the songbirds in the surrounding forest. We stand in a blind, a little hut used to conceal people inside while they watch for birds. The blind contains the banding station with all of its associated equipment, and, in this case, an adjacent area for non-banders to watch. Thin horizontal windows let light into the gloomy interior while keeping keen raptor eyes out. I observe as everyone peers out through the slits that open our view to the small clearing ahead, and the occasional figure soaring by. These distant birds are not uncommon, but on a clear day like today they are black specks high in the sky, flying too far up to notice us. As the minutes creep past, our rapt attention fades. People slump backwards, leaning against the wall. Eyes wander to the decorations: posters depicting local species, information about the site, and signs proclaiming, “Rat Poison Is Raptor Poison.”

FIGURE ONE
Inside the blind
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)
Suddenly, gray and white wings swoop in close. A flurry of shuffling feet and craned necks betrays the excitement of the onlookers. The falcon lands. The moment it stills, the trap is snapped shut over its head. One of the banders approaches barehanded, grabbing it carefully around the ankles to protect herself from razor sharp talons. She carefully detangles the net, and once removed, she returns with the bird in one hand. Her grip is carefully placed, but she maintains a nonchalance that I find remarkable in such close proximity to such a formidable creature. She slides the animal securely into a Pringles can, its feet sticking out of the bottom. Much of the materials seem similarly salvaged or hand crafted. She uses an unwieldy set of pliers to attach the metal band safely and securely around its ankle. The band, distributed by the federal Bird Banding Laboratory, is marked with a serial number which will allow the bird, and its history of human interaction, to be identified if it is caught again.1 Just a few short minutes later, she takes the bird back outside and tosses it in the air for it to return to the sky.

FIGURE TWO
Bander holding falcon
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)

FIGURE THREE
Falcon in Pringles can
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)

FIGURE FOUR
Bander touching falcon’s chest
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)
Bird banding has been a monumental innovation for animal research and conservation, as demonstrated not only by the vast quantity and detail of the data collected, but because the practice has essentially remained completely unchanged since its inception early in the 20th century.2,3 Its beginnings can be traced back to amateurs collecting data in their backyards, and since then, bird banding has relied on the efforts of largely independent local organizations to perform work unique to their locales. Here in Rochester, New York, where I conducted my research, one such organization is Braddock Bay Raptor Research (BBRR). BBRR bands raptors for a few months during spring and fall migration, when thousands of the animals can be seen soaring through the sky on any given day, and it dedicates the rest of their efforts to educational events and outreach programs.4 While there are many factors that limit the accessibility of the project, as well as the equitable treatment and respect of the non-human actors within the organization, BBRR’s community-based approach and focus on education allows them to mitigate many potential harms and remain inclusive, maintaining respect for the independence of individuals.
Raptor banding is unique because birds of prey will not simply fly into carefully laid nets, as smaller songbirds will. This necessitates the use of “lure birds,” such as sparrows or pigeons, to lead the falcons into traps waiting to be sprung. These lure birds are attached to a line via a protective leather jacket so that they sit above the trap and can be pulled up into the air by the banders in the blind. Their fluttering as they fall back down then attracts the attention of birds flying overhead. Given that these lure birds are secondary to the research being done, it is unsurprising that they are treated very differently from the raptors being banded. The banding process is attuned to the agency and psychological well-being of the raptors. Indeed, when I spoke with licensed bander and vice president of BBRR, Jill Heimrich, she expressed concern that “even though it may be only minutes [of contact], you’re still disrupting them.”5 This trepidation is repeated among banders and onlookers alike, so practitioners orchestrate the banding process to minimize the bird’s stress.6 Since they rely predominantly on their sense of sight, one effective method to reduce stress is by blocking their vision—hence the use of the cans. The traps, tools, and each step of the handling process are also adjusted to protect the falcons, as well as banders.
Meanwhile, though the lure birds are offered physical protection, there is not the time nor the means necessary to prioritize the minutiae of their interactions with humans. The working birds are switched out day to day, and even sometimes throughout a given day, so that no individual acts as a lure for too long at once. The safety of the lures is not completely dismissed, yet this practice indicates an understanding that there is some amount of distress that becomes the birds despite their physical security. Additionally, Jill described how she “grab[s] a bunch of each” kind to bring to the banding station.7 This language reflects her casual tone but primarily diminishes the individuality of the birds, as well as the intimacy she achieves in caring for them. On the other hand, the treatment of the birds while the research work is not being done contrasts sharply to this. Because the lure birds are caught once at the start of the banding season, they must be cared for everyday for those few months. As such, the birds are often kept in cages at the banders’ homes. As Heimrich put it, “I treat them kind of like my pets.”8 The proximity and extended exposure to these birds adds complexity to their relationship to humans. It encourages the banders to treat them with more care, but at the same time it inhibits their classification as wild animals. Providing consistent food, water and shelter increases their reliance on humans and naturally decreases their fear of the same, subjecting them to future, potentially dangerous or even lethal, human interactions. In this way, their protection comes at the cost of potentially long term damage to their wellbeing. The treatment of the lure birds as “pets” but also as interchangeable entities demonstrates the complexity of human-animal relationships, and the fine line between care and harm. Further, the contrast in treatment between these two classes of birds highlights how the role of the animal affects its relationship to humans: The agency of the raptors is respected as necessary to the study and is even the whole purpose of banding, but the identity of the lure bird is restricted to the support of this research. As such, lure birds are not treated with as much respect, reverence, or care in the blind as their falcon counterparts.

FIGURE FIVE
Measuring I
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)

FIGURE SIX
Measuring II
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)

FIGURE SEVEN
Bander recording measurements
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)
These different levels of respect and agency apply to people as well as the animals being studied. In the name of conservation projects around the world, indigenous and local voices are often pushed aside for more conventional cookie cutter solutions that do not take local ecologies into account.9 Similar problems occur in Rochester too; the economic disparities within the city are often ignored and silenced. This means that opportunities like bird banding are not accessible to everyone. One way this is manifested is the construction of the city. Like in many places across the United States, redlining and policies of marginalization force impoverished residents to the inner city while the upper class expands ever outwards, moving nature farther and farther away.10 This distance is discouraging especially for someone who cannot spare the time or money to drive to the edge of town, but also makes it very unlikely for someone to have heard of bird banding in the first place. Further, the lack of green space in the city makes it extremely difficult to develop an interest in nature. Without this connection, the pursuit of a monotonous task like banding is difficult to invest in. Another area of concern is the environment of the banding station itself. Scientific study is often limited to universities, often making it feel elitist and unwelcoming to outsiders. Particularly with the influence of the University of Rochester over the land, jobs, and healthcare of the city, citizens who are not affiliated become excluded from certain areas and practices. The scientific nature of banding, as well as BBRR’s location at the edge of the city, would seem to indicate that banding follows this pattern of inaccessibility. However, BBRR is community-run and -funded, giving the organization the means and motivation to break away from these harmful practices.
As I learned in my interview with Daena Ford, the president of BBRR, the volunteers that make up most of BBRR’s workforce are not university graduates. While banding does require federal- and state-issued licenses, few participants have degrees or careers in biology or environmental science. Instead, most maintain “a very vested interest in … raptors and want to be part of the conservation effort.”11 This underpins BBRR’s values: not aligned with some abstract perusal of data, but with the birds themselves and their conservation. BBRR also works to prioritize the entirety of the Rochester community. A timeworn sign on the walk up to the blind proclaims it to be the only of its kind open to the public in North America. This means that even if someone does not have the long hours to spend volunteering, they have the opportunity to stop by for an impromptu visit to connect with nature at the blind and while wandering through adjacent trails in the woods.

FIGURE EIGHT
Signage
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)

FIGURE NINE
Walk to the blind
(Sage Kruschel, 2025)
Perhaps even more importantly, though, are Braddock Bay’s educational programs. Banding can only occur effectively during the few months of the birds’ migration. The rest of the year, “educational programs are offered [which] … aim to expose people to the wonderful world of raptors through field experiences as well as off-site visits.”12 BBRR have a few previously injured, non-releasable birds that they bring to educational outings throughout the greater Rochester area. They visit schools, from kindergarten through high school, as well as nursing homes and all manner of locations, aiming to cover all areas of the city. This work is especially important in locations that are most alienated from nature. These visits give children and adults alike the opportunity to see fauna that is typically unreachable, and to become invested in nature-filled environments that are frequently invisible within the city. The connection to birds is particularly empowering because they are some of the few animals that are always within eyesight—or earshot—within the city. This offers plentiful and varied opportunities for engagement, and for fostering connection with nature at large.
This connection to the community helps not only the city, but BBRR itself. With programs that bring in people from all over the greater Rochester area, they diversify their membership. This allows their studies to be informed by diverse perspectives, deterring the exclusivity which creates “uneven power and colonial violence [that] characterize relations.”13 In opening their work to a broader public, BBRR fosters a more equitable and inclusive approach to both nature and research—one that prioritizes shared knowledge, mutual learning, and greater interest in conservation. The latter, in turn, also helps keep the organization running, providing political support as well as donations that are vital to the longevity of the non-profit.
NOTES
1. While this particular bird had not been previously banded, many birds return to the blind season after season. Some even stop at more than one station on the same day. Because these birds keep to the skies and away from people, these captures are likely the only occasions any raptor will interact directly with humans.
2. The time, date, and location of the captures are recorded, as well as the bird’s species, and the serial number of the band. Its sex and age are also listed whenever possible. Logs are then submitted to the US Geological Survey. This allows researchers to identify patterns in migration time and location, changes in population size, and health issues, helping to proactively identify problems and areas that may need aid. Braddock Bay Raptor Research also documents Capillaria—a previously unknown infection in Sharp-shinned Hawks which causes mouth deformations—by rating its severity on a scale of 1 to 5. For more information see Braddock Bay Raptor Research, Sharp-shinned Hawk Project, 2021, https://www.bbrr.org/sharp-shinned-hawk-project/.
3. Etienne S. Benson, “A Centrifuge of Calculation: Managing Data and Enthusiasm in Early Twentieth-Century Bird Banding,” Osiris 32, no. 1 (September 2017): 291, https://doi.org/10.1086/694172.
4. Hawk Migration Association of North America, “Monthly Raptor Count Summary: Braddock Bay, 2024,” HawkCount, accessed May 6, 2025, https://hawkcount.org/month_summary.php?rsite=353&ryear=2024&rmonth=05.
5. Jill Heimrich (bander at Braddock Bay Raptor Research), in discussion with the author via Zoom (April 1, 2025).
6. Kristoffer Whitney, “Bird Banding and the Environmental Humanities: Institutions, Intersubjectivities, and the Phenomenological Method of Margaret Morse Nice,” Environmental Humanities 13, no. 1 (May 1, 2021): 114, https://doi.org/10.1215/22011919-8867230.
7. Heimrich, 2025.
8. Ibid.
9. Kristoffer Whitney (researcher and professor at RIT), in discussion with the author (April 2, 2025).
10. Michael Rawson, “Enclosing the Common,” in Eden on the Charles: The Making of Boston (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2010), 22-74.
11. Daena Ford (president of Braddock Bay Raptor Research), in discussion with the author via Zoom (April 1, 2025).
12. Braddock Bay Raptor Research. “Mission & History,” 2021. https://www.bbrr.org/mission-history/.
13. Jenny R Isaacs, “The ‘Bander’s Grip’: Reading Zones of Human–shorebird Contact,” Environment and Planning E Nature and Space 2, no. 4 (September 10, 2019): 732–60, https://doi.org/10.1177/2514848619866331.