If you have not seen the documentary "Blackfish," then I highly suggest you sit down right now, watch it, and return to this article. If you have seen it, then I have some devastating news for you. I remember as a child being brought to SeaWorld and thinking what a magical place it was, one where children and adults alike could bear witness to the fascinating creatures that stared back at us through glass walls. However, unlike a zoo that keeps animals in captivity for conservation, education, and research purposes, SeaWorld imprisons its animals for the sole purpose of profit. For those of you that have seen "Blackfish," the documentary that chronicles the heartrending life of Tilikum the whale, I am sorry to say that his misery continues.

Tilikum is best known for the death of the trainer, Dawn Brancheu, in 2010. SeaWorld maintains that her death is the result of mistakes made during her interactions with the orca, but this is simply not the case. Orcas at SeaWorld are taken from their families in the wild and bought by SeaWorld to spend their lives in tiny glass cages and expected to perform for those of us ignorant enough to ignore the tragedy that lies beyond the show. According to us.whales.org, Orcas at SeaWorld, on average, die at 13 years old, while orcas in the wild have an average life expectancy of 30-50 years, with a maximum lifespan of about 60-70 years for males and 80 to over 100 for females. Despite numerous attacks and deaths by Orcas at SeaWorld, there has only been a single reliable report of an orca harming a human being in the wild. This aggression is entirely contingent upon the stress involved of being pried away from one’s family, deprived of everything that is natural and important to orcas in the wild, and constant negative reinforcement from trainers. Every single adult captive male orca at SeaWorld has a collapsed dorsal fin, and though SeaWorld maintains that this condition is common, in the wild, it is extremely rare and happens to be a sign of an injured or unhealthy orca. This collapsed dorsal fin is the result of a lack of free space to swim, as captive orcas are confined to small tanks with strange orcas whereas they would swim up to 100 miles a day in the wild. This confinement leads to fights among orcas, who are forced to live together despite their incompatibility and receive punishments when a new orca is introduced to the group who has yet to learn the ropes. Since captive orcas are unable to hunt and obtain water from their prey, their diet consists of unnatural substances such as pig and cow bones, which contain gelatin in an attempt to keep them hydrated. Orcas are highly social animals and rely heavily on the strong bonds they form with families, yet babies are taken from their mothers and fathers taken from their families for breeding and performance purposes. This treatment leads to not only physical suffering, but mental suffering as well, and I think that if most of us were subject to these conditions, we would react just as aggressively as Tilikum.

Sadly, this week we have news that Tilikum appears to have a bacterial infection in his lungs, which has been resistant to treatment thus far. Tilikum has been as SeaWorld for 23 years, and surprisingly, despite his struggles, has survived to 34 years old—more than twice the average lifespan for orcas in captivity. SeaWorld veterinarians have given him a microscopic chance of survival, and report that he may have as little as a few days if not hours left to live. Tilikum lives out his final days in isolation, as he has been deemed too aggressive for performances and interaction with humans or other orcas. I am devastated by the tragedy this beautiful creature has had to endure, and I hope stories like this do not persist in the future, but until something changes, Tilikum is just another news story to ignore and another carcass for SeaWorld to dispose of.