As far as meat was concerned, I loved sausages, bacon, meatballs, and burgers. When I was young, my father complained that I didn't like steak but liked burgers. He told me it was the same animal so I should feel the same way about it. I stared at my plate for a second and then went to the fridge for the ketchup. I put ketchup on my burgers before I ate them, so to me it was logical that I would put it on steak too. This was a travesty of justice, according to the way father reacted. (When steak sauce came around, I had been vegetarian for 9 years, but I still felt vindicated.) I don't think that my parents ever told me that meat was important or that I had to have it (until I gave it up), but it always seemed to be as important as the rest of the meal. When we were served a meat that I didn't like, I was told that I had to eat it, but this was the same treatment as vegetables.
It is forever to my great shame that although I did know that meat came from animals, it never occurred to me to give it up. I never thought about not eating animals.
I went on a trip to Florida with my religious youth group the summer before I turned 16. I remember that our group was sitting in a McDonald's and there was a teenager who was the only member of our group not eating. She said she was vegetarian in a somewhat passive way. She'd been raised vegetarian. She'd tried meat, but didn't like the taste, so she went back to being vegetarian. (And yet, even though she could have gotten something resembling food at McDonald's, she had opted not to.) I remember thinking that I liked animals and if there was a way to live without killing them, I should do it. I thought this, off and on, all through summer and early fall. I knew that if I announced to my parents that I was vegetarian, I could not, a month later, announce that I was no longer vegetarian. Once I made the decision, I had to stick with it forever. So I spent a lot of time looking at what I liked, what I would have to "sacrifice", what I would eat instead. When I was left to my own devices, I ate unhealthy vegetarian meals. (I didn't care for most vegetables.)
Just before (or the day of) my mother's birthday, I put a ham & cheese hot pockets in the microwave for my lunch, intending to pick the ham out. (I know this wasteful and doesn't help the pig at all.) But as I tried to do that, I saw an image in my mind of a cartoon pig looking at me and asking why. I broke down and couldn't eat the sandwich at all, so I threw it out (wasteful, I know). I told my father I wouldn't be eating the steak because I was vegetarian now. Four days later, on my birthday, they asked if they could still have meat in the sauce. I figured that they knew meat was dead and that they didn't need to eat it, so by choosing to do so, they would have to answer to God on their own. I had plain spaghetti while my family had my usual dinner.
At first, my father refused to go out of his way for vegetarian foods. The man's three favorite things were shopping, driving, and bargains; but I digress. I wasn't allowed to cook because of an earlier accident involving spaghetti water and how it got all over my upper torso and my mother had to dress my wounds three times a day for many weeks. My first experience with tofu was served cold and mixed with plain cottage cheese (if I can get over this and like tofu, so can you). I was eventually allowed to fry tempeh (until it's golden, like hash browns with bonus amounts of protein), but my parents were pretty leery of my cooking. After about 6 months, my mother said, "She's not growing out of it. Buy her food, Ed." Suddenly, I had Morning Star Farms and Yves Smart Deli in the house.
I was a slacktivist even then, as I supported Greenpeace and PeTA who both always talked about how this one animal or group of animals was being harmed by humans, but never said that all of them were in danger because of us. Greenpeace never told me that eating animals is the most harmful thing you can do for the planet. PeTA would tell me that a particular farm was mistreating cows or pigs but they never told me how bad it was even in the best times. I remember particularly an article from PeTA about mistreated dairy cows, which suggested to me that there was a way to get dairy from a cow without mistreating her (hint: there isn't).
I did know one Vegan, an adult volunteer at the youth group for my church. We were both also involved in a few other parish causes and participated in letter-writing campaigns for Amnesty International. I don't remember him ever telling me about why he didn't have dairy and eggs; but I can't say I'd do any different with someone else's child.
After college, I had to move back home and live with my mother (my father had died earlier that year of ALS, Lou Gehrig's Disease). As she worked a full day and I couldn't find work, I often would cook a vegetarian meal for the two of us and she was usually happy with this arrangement because there was a hot meal waiting for her when she got home.
Eventually, I found work, which meant that I could spend money on gadgets. I bought an iPod and subscribed to several podcasts (the big new thing), including Colleen Patrick-Godreau's Food for Thought: The Joys and Benefits of Living Compassionately and Healthfully. (Find it here: http://www.compassionatecook.com/publications/food-for-thought-podcast) I remember that iTunes had it billed as a vegetarian podcast and I thought I'd like that so I could have comebacks for Mom and some other people when they asked about vegetarianism.
The first time I heard Ms. Patrick-Godreau, I was waiting for a shuttle to take me from North Station to work. I was exhausted, probably from having watched too much TV the night before. I can't remember the exact name of the episode, but she was talking about how milk really gets made. I've since done some further research on this, so I can't be sure what's paraphrased from her and what isn't. Even on "nice" farms, they have to get a cow pregnant and then separate her from her child so that she can be milked and the milk can be sold. Both are killed when they are no longer of service to the farm and often their skin becomes leather (the softer the leather, the younger the cow who died for it). The veal industry (which even my parents abhorred) was born out of the need to do something with this creature who'd been brought to life so that the farmer could steal his mother's milk. (Female cows are kept alive, assigned the same fate as their mothers.) A cow could live longer than 20 years, if allowed to. But even the "nice" farms will kill her after she is six. (Or send her to sanctuary; but after getting pregnant and giving birth every year, she's a little weary of humans.)
It was around then (or perhaps even the same day) that someone on Facebook posted an expose of a "bad" egg hatchery where the employees would take out their frustrations on male chicks, grinding them alive into the ground or using them as a baseball as one threw and another hit. I thought, "I have no way of knowing if the eggs I eat came from a place like this. I have to stop eating eggs altogether. I have to go Vegan."
What the video didn't make clear is that across the industry, male chicks are of so little value that the standard practice is to grind them alive or stuff them alive into a plastic bag with their brothers, and let them suffocate as a group. Some places will grind them up and put them into the feed for their mothers and sisters. (Chickens are not meat eaters, but this practice makes them not only meat eaters but also carnivores.)
Despite not knowing about how bad the "best case" scenario was, my world still came crashing down around me. I couldn't believe I had never thought about what would happen to dairy cows and egg-laying chickens when they no longer had milk or eggs to "give" (the industry term for both is "spent"). I had never considered the males of either species and how unimportant they were to the industry that had created them.
That day, I bought recipe books, researched Vegan food products, Vegan recipes, and articles on the health aspect (to help me fight my mother who was sure to object). I went through a period of fewer than three weeks when I avoided non-Vegan food as best as I could, but I still ate it when Mom was around because I wasn't armed yet. One day, in the grocery store, I bought what I believed to be Vegan cheese (later I would find out that casein is an addictive protein taken from milk). Mom flipped out and told me that no nutritionist would approve of this because it's such an unhealthy diet; and also, eating that much soy would lead to breast cancer.
I saw my actual nutritionist a few days later and she was totally supportive of the idea. She got a big book that nutritionists use to tell them about different things, looked up Veganism, and read a list of diseases that I was statistically less likely to get as a result of my new lifestyle. Among these were heart disease and all types of cancer, both of which run in my family. It was also supposed to help with asthma, arthritis, anxiety, and depression - all of which I already had.
But let me be clear. I am not Vegan for my health (although it has helped immensely). I am not Vegan for the environment (although I found out later that the best thing I could do for it was be Vegan). I am Vegan for the animals. Because someone else shouldn't die so that I can have food or clothes when there are other alternatives to both. Someone shouldn't be held in captivity so that I can have fun looking at them when there are other ways to enjoy myself and be mystified by the beauty of another creature.
Don't ever tell me "I'm sorry you're
Vegan" or "You can't have this because you're Vegan". Because
I'm not sorry. This is the best thing I have ever done. I could eat
whatever food you're so sorry that I can't enjoy; but why would I ever want to?
Veganism has made me more aware of myself. It has led to my being more active in social justice, feminism, socialism, and in life itself. I was on the verge of becoming agoraphobic, but Veganism encouraged me to get outside, to let people into my heart (with mixed results, I admit). I was depressed, but Veganism made me feel that I had a purpose in life and that all life is precious and not to be wasted or taken for granted. Veganism has given me the courage to demand better of myself and for myself, to start showing myself the compassion I give so freely to others. I sacrificed nothing. I have gained so much. And I remain, every single day, with every single meal, just so darn happy to be Vegan. It is the joy of my life, and I hope it is or will soon be for you too.
