Filed under: From the Soap Box | Tags: Chamonix, convert, diet, environment, fads, golden rule, health, meat, pollution, vegan, vegetarian
Addendum to the piece, below
“Only I can change my life, no one can do it for me.” Carol Burnett
I actually began doing research on the environmental effects of eating meat shortly after writing this piece, and in September of 2016 I reduced my eat consumption by 90%. In essence, while I still am hurt and irritated by the people who wereĀ combatively proselytizing (& just being plain mean), I have since evolved and changed my ways…
That said, I will keep this post up as evidence of my previous ignorance and petulance on the subject…
To my recently converted vegan eating friends,
Congratulations on your vegan diet! Iām glad that youāve found something that you want to do to help the environment and your general health. Iām pleased that youāre contributing to the overall welfare of the collective. Really I am.
But even though Iām super happy for you, I get upset when you talk about your vegan diet and put down meat eaters as barbaric dimwits. Iām a meat eater. But you know that – weāve had Sunday Roasts together. While itās arguable that Iām a dimwit, I donāt believe Iām barbaric and cruel. And what about the golden rule? Youāre treating animals better than I may, but youāre putting me down in the process of justifying your diet. I might evolve from my place lower than you on the evolutionary chain, but your lectures and accusatory tone may prompt me to crawl right back into the water, leaving my shell on the shore.
Last week alone I suffered three separate people in Chamonix Valley who have recently made this lifestyle change, proselytizing to me about veganism. Each of them explicitly and implicitly told me that if I continue to eat meat I donāt care two shits for the environment, about other living creatures, or my own body. I didnāt engage in argument. I mean, I donāt really care about my own body, and I should given that Iām aging and thatās a horrendous process…I tried to let it āroll off of my backā and not to let my eyes glaze over, attributing their antagonism to early zeal, but the third novitiate made me angry (and hurt, if Iām to be honest): I ran into this friend in the parking lot of the primary school and excitedly mentioned that my husband and I are replacing our very old car with a hybrid. He told me in a flat, contentious voice, āYou should become a Vegan if you really want to help the environment.ā While I stumbled a bit with a reply, muttering āOh, gee…um…ā he immediately suggested, āYou could stop commuting to Geneva for work.ā As I scratched my head to figure out a polite way to stop this conversation, he rapid-fire-suggested, āYou could stop visiting your family and wasting jet fuel.ā I spluttered a āOh. My. Well now…ā Without hesitation, he went on to tell me that the ābestā thing I could do (in addition to the aforementioned) was to keep the old car on the road and not cause the industry and subsequent pollution that happens with the creation of a new car. That I wasnāt serious about the environment if Iām unwilling to do the previously stated things. Awkward. I think I said something innocuous and superficial like, āOh…well…okay. Then Iāll see you around,ā and drove off with the belt of my coat stuck in the car door.
These interactions prompt me to write this letter now. I feel that I must justify my existence as a meat eater. And while I risk being a hypocrite ācause Iām now exhorting you, the reader, to my cause, and being defensive to boot, Iām also brave for defending my meat-eating ways which may, in the end, just reinforce the idea that I am a selfish, negligent nitwit who would sooner sacrifice kittens than give up something that pleases me.
So here goes:
My name is Victoria. And Iām a meat eater.
I wasnāt a big meat eater to begin with. We werenāt rich when I was a child and so we ate all kinds of awful meats that I wouldnāt touch, such as plaice, beef tongue, liver and pigās feet. As a young adult in charge of my own dietary acquisitions, I found that I preferred to spend my money on drugs and entertainment. Granted, I did eat the odd slice of pepperoni pizza, but I can most definitely not be called a savage meat eater through most of the late 80ās and all of the 90ās. As a bona fide adult (meaning I pay my taxes, got married ā again ā am responsible for raising a child, pay my bills on time and donāt piss off my employers) I do eat more meat. But thatās primarily because Iām eating
three squares (or at least two) and itās hard not to eat meat whilst still having a relatively diverse diet. Also, my son would never eat if he didnāt eat meat. Or at least heād only eat starch and carbohydrates. (And donāt say thatās ācause weāve allowed him to eat what he wants. That weāve spoiled him. That we havenāt starved him enough. Short of tying him up with gaffer tape and administrating vegetables and fruits intravenously, weāve tried everything).
Iām still making excuses for my addiction, I know, but we donāt consume a lot at home. And what we do eat is locally sourced. I know the animals I eat are still hung upside down, scared, and killed and thatās horrific, but I do spend the money and take the time to buy the meat in which the creature was at least allowed to enjoy their lives to that point. And, hopefully, in their nicer environments they were also spoken to softly and humanely as they were slaughtered. But I donāt think itās fair to say Iām cruel to living creatures because I eat meat. I sign petitions to stop cruelty to animals. I support The World Wildlife Federation and National Geographic with annual cash donations. I pet wet, smelly dogs, including my own. Iāve taken in the neighborhood stray. But there I go justifying my behavior. The fact is, I like it. Especially the salty ones that originate from pig. Please donāt take this the wrong way, but it sucks to feel judged and admonished about my meat eating ways and I donāt like it one bit. Please let me hit my own ābottomā and reach the decision to stop eating it (and the rest) on my own.
This does not mean Iām not concerned about the state of the world. Iām deeply troubled by the world today, to the extent that it makes it hard for me to be happy at all with the myriad of global problems. My predisposition to neurosis is on overdrive these days, what with Trump, Brexit, Turkey, the Middle East, French strikes, mass shootings, environmental calamity, desertification, unfair wealth distribution, terrorism, human trafficking, the bodyās resistance to antibiotics, etc. etc. It keeps me up at night. Seriously. Unless I take a pill (but now theyāre prescribed, so thatās okay, right?).
With regard to the environment, I may not be a vegan, but I do many small things throughout every day in an effort to help save our planet:
- We never dry our clothes in a dryer even though I really miss soft towels and jeans.
- We donāt run water while weāre brushing our teeth, and my husband is a total soap dodger, so thatās water saved, too.
- We donāt flush after each pee, adhering to the saying, āif itās yellow, keep it mellow…ā
- We recycle, and flatten all the boxes and bottles.
- We car share to the school most mornings (and weāve attempted to involve two additional neighborhood families whose children go to the same place at the same time, to no avail, and despite their lamentations about environmental calamity…).
- We donāt use harmful detergents and cleaners, even as I really miss the smell of Ariel.
- As mentioned, our new car is a hybrid, and despite the fact that itās just weird looking.
- As mentioned, I didnāt eat much of anything through my childhood and into my adult years.
- I spent most of my adult life without being the owner of a car, living in cities with true mass transit capabilities. That counts for something (How many of you can say the same?).
Yes, Iām flawed. I eat meat. I like it. I also eat gluten. And I eat dairy. I suffer a cheese belly due to my penchant for the stuff. I love milk in my coffee. I enjoy omelets and quiche (Iām getting hungry). Even as Iām still adapting and shaping my philosophy of the world, itās not likely that I will convert to veganism anytime soon. I would like to do more to help. To have a big garden in which my husband grows vegetables and fruit, perhaps heād even keep a few bees, but heās busy at the moment earning money to put some kind of food on our table.
These recent conversations with these vegan disciples have left me disturbed and suspicious. Each personās eye had the shine of a zealot. The imparting of their vegan information the air of proselytizing. The sudden popularity and timely coincidence suggests a fad. Growing up on the West Coast of the USA in the 1970ās, I met all kinds of charlatans who were apostles of Buddhism, Lao Tzu, Pluralism, Karma, Chakras, and astrology, with various accompanying diets, revered stones and/or crystals, yoga practices, and exercise regiments. Later, they became dot-commers and venture capitalists that ādoā yoga and Pilates as part of their social role and follow folks on Twitter who practice āmindfulnessā and positivity. These recent conversations with these vegan followers here remind me of home and those good old days…
But letās get back to my central point – whatās up with the preaching and shaming? I have many old friends who are deeply devoted vegetarians. And a couple of vegans are among them. They donāt attempt to persuade me to their ideologies or make me feel bad about my own lifestyle choices. Perhaps theyāve lost their enthusiasm and itās just a way of life. Perhaps theyāve ascertained that Iām a lost cause. Perhaps itās ācause they know that Iām not a conspicuous consumer. That Iām not one of the bad guys.
Before my dad died, I used to frequently call him up after Iād watch the evening news (from any time zone), crying over the state of the world. In addition to the news, Iād be upset with the broadcasting itself, too, and what it implied about the world and its state of affairs also. My dad, a political activist, would always tell me: āModel the life youād like. Try to live faithfully to your spirit and your values. Believe that the micro will affect the macro. Remember humor. And live and let live with critical insight, but not fast judgment.ā