JASMINE

Jasmine is a Cornish Cross chicken, often referred to as a “meat bird” or “broiler chicken.” She was born into the factory farming system and used as a breeder for the meat industry—a mother to the babies who are slaughtered for meat at just 6 to 8 weeks old. Jasmine was raised in a typical factory farm in rural Georgia, USA, a windowless shed where she never saw sunlight, never felt grass under her feet, and never experienced a moment of kindness.

In the spring of 2020, when she was about a year old, a tornado struck the factory farm, destroying the sheds and killing tens of thousands of birds. The corporate owners arrived with bulldozers to clear the debris including injured birds who had survived the tornado. Rescuers showed up to try to save the survivors, but they were arrested for trespassing and prohibited from taking animals who were only going to be buried alive. Somehow, rescuers managed to sneak in and save about 200 of those birds. Jasmine was one of them.
Weeks had passed before she was rescued. She had no access to food or water and had been living in filth the entire time. When she arrived at Sweet Peeps Microsanctuary, she was caked in that filth, emaciated, traumatized, and too weak to walk. It took months to get her clean and weeks before she could walk on her own.

But now, six years later, Jasmine is still here, one of two who remain from the group of seven tornado survivors Sweet Peeps took in. As a seven-year-old Cornish Cross, she has beaten all the odds.
Globally, we kill approximately 75 billion chickens like Jasmine every year. They are killed as 6- to 8-week-old babies who never know a moment of the goodness this life has to offer. Even Cornish Cross chickens who are not born into factory farms but end up in people’s backyards often die young due to the genetic manipulation of the meat industry, which has designed them to reach slaughter weight as babies, not to live long lives.

Today, Jasmine and her sister Satya spend their days dirt bathing under the banana trees, exploring the yard, scratching for bugs and worms, and sitting side by side soaking in the sunshine. Jasmine loves to be held and snuggled. She loves her sister, and somehow, despite what she’s endured, she loves people too. She has some arthritis, but that doesn’t stop her from running to greet her human family whenever they walk into the yard, especially when snacks are involved.

Jasmine is a survivor. She’s resilient. She shows us that there is always hope. And she inspires everyone who meets her to see what the industry works so hard to hide: that chickens are not commodities or products, but individuals; beings with personalities, preferences, the capacity for joy, for connection and love, and a deep desire to live.