Celebrating an all-natural lifestyle

The Whys and Hows of My Veganism

A few days ago, my friend Bitt left the following comment on my crushing post:

I have had a question since seeing you in VegNews. Do you feel that you identify more with the “healthy living” community or the vegan or raw community? I have to admit I assumed the former but then was sort of surprised to see you in VegNews because they come to veganism from more of the ethical sort of standpoint. I’d love to know your thoughts on it.

The evolution of my veganism is something I’ve touched on before, most notably in my Thanksliving post, wherein I spoke at length about how my veganism was morphing into a lifestyle, rather than a mere way of eating. I also touched on veganism and its impact on my habits as a consumer here. But it’s been a while since I talked at length about my motives for choosing a vegan lifestyle. So here’s the story:

I became a vegan mostly for health reasons. I was a longtime non-eater of red meat; I swore off the sirloin after a traumatic Bambi-watching experience in childhood. I ate fish and chicken frequently all through high school and college, but by the end of college my consumption was tapering off, and I was discovering tofu, soy cheese (which was, looking back, pretty icky–you can ask Chloe about how much she enjoyed my soy cheese while we were roommates after college graduation!), and grain/bean based meals.

At the same time as all of this, I struggled with a near crippling case of IBS, which had me incapacitated not infrequently during my college years. Finally, I saw a great GI in Manhattan who suggested I give up dairy to see how it affected my digestive health. The change was immediate and dramatic. At that point, I wasn’t eating much fish or poultry, I didn’t eat eggs (they’ve always given me migraines), and dairy was suddenly off the list, too. Translation: I was eating vegan by default. And since the prospect of embracing a vegan diet seemed not daunting, but rather like a logical extension of the tastes and habits I was already learning to love, I took the plunge. I’ve never looked back.

Since I started eating vegan, I’ve begun to live vegan, too. As I read more books about veganism, and as I surrounded myself more with men and women who were passionate about veganism not for its health benefits, but because of its ethical implications, I couldn’t help but discover that, for most vegans the world over, veganism is not only a way of eating. It’s a lifestyle choice and a world view that extends from food down to clothing, language, and ideological identification. I may not have begun my vegan journey with these things in mind, but they have been an absolutely crucial part of my veganism. Why? Simply put, because I find the ethical and environmental arguments highly compelling, especially in the world in which we live. I believe that the best and most efficient way for me to remedy the abuses of factory farming and the environmental destruction it causes is to cease my consumption of animal products altogether. And I’ve come to question the assumption that our use of animals for our own benefit is right.

This ideological shift has been gradual, and it’s still very much underway. Two years ago, I ate vegan, but still purchased new leather and used non-vegan cosmetics. Today, I buy only vegan personal care items, and I also only purchase vintage or thrift shop leather (yes, I am well aware that wearing any leather sets an example, and it’s not a vegan example; I’m still in the process of changing, and this is my intermediary step). This doesn’t mean that I don’t have many, many changes yet ahead of me. Just last week, I used the expression “killing two birds with one stone” on my blog, which Bitt quickly pointed out is a non-vegan idiom! And a few weeks ago, when I mentioned staycation with my Mom, I noted that she had requested we visit the Central Park zoo.

Um, newsflash Gena: vegans don’t do zoos! Or at least, most vegans don’t support zoos, rodeos, and circuses. It was reader Sara who pointed this out to me in an email. She asked, “you’ve written before about your vegan shoes, vegan skin-care products etc., so I would just love to hear your thoughts about other non-food aspects of veganism and where you draw your lines?”

The truth, Sara, is that I didn’t even think about the zoo remark when I wrote it. My mom used to love taking me, and since our staycation was self-consciously touched by nostalgia, it must have seemed like an obvious suggestion to her. Of course, had I taken a moment to sit down and think about it, I’d have realized immediately that zoos are incongruous with a vegan lifestyle. But my veganism is young, and there are many connections that I’m making. I don’t stress about them: I have a lifetime in which to figure out where I draw my lines. As far as zoos go, I can say honestly that they–along with horse drawn carriage rides and circuses–have always depressed me and made me sorry for the animals involved, so I’ve no problem whatsoever avoiding them. If I want to see and play with animals, I can visit a farm sanctuary. But I needed an “aha” moment to connect my experience and emotions with my ideological position, if that makes sense. I imagine that this process will be long and ever-evolving.

Does this change the fact that I connect my good health to veganism? No. But I don’t think that my lifelong commitment to veganism would be as strong if the philosophical component hadn’t crept in along the way. I do believe that veganism can be the world’s healthiest diet for many people. But I also believe that it is one of many ways to live healthily. I, for example, might easily have managed my IBS and felt better by eating high raw and mostly vegan, but with the occasional inclusion of fish or yogurt. I know many pescatarians or people who eat a mostly vegan diet who feel great. So for me, the impetus to be a vegan for the long haul, rather than as an experiment to manage a health complaint, has to come from some place that isn’t exclusively health-motivated. It has to come from a conviction that goes beyond my body and how I feel. I think that all motives for choosing vegansim are great–i.e,. I certainly don’t think that non-ethical vegans are “lesser” vegans. But I do wonder if perhaps their attachment to the lifestyle would be strengthened by an appreciation of all that veganism implies, rather than its dietary dictates alone.

There’s another piece of the puzzle that I haven’t mentioned yet, but it’s a tremendous part of why I feel strongly about veganism. If health and ethics are my first two sources of devotion to veganism, this is a crucial third: my psychology. As many of you know, I struggled with various shades of disordered eating for many years, starting at a young age. Even after I learned to eat more consistently, I battled constant temptations to restrict food, and indeed my weight dropped dangerously low more than a few times after what I’d call the “worst” period of my psychological struggle. Veganism offered me an escape from these cycles. There are many reasons why that’s true, but I’d say that, for someone like me, appreciation of food had to be accompanied by a sense that the food I was eating had deep nutritional and ethical purpose. I had to feel that it was good for me, yes, but also that it was good for the world. This was my answer to the guilt that had dominated my eating for so long.

To this day, veganism isn’t supported by most health care professionals as a means of overcoming disordered eating, and I understand why: it’s very easy for veganism to hide sublimated food fears and self-imposed dietary restrictions. I also think that many women who have struggled with eating disorders find that they can never again make certain foods “off limits” to themselves, and in this sense veganism isn’t right for them. But for me, it was the gateway into having the sort of joyous and appreciative relationship with food that I wish I’d had all along. It was my way of understanding that, when we eat, we can nourish ourselves and the world in which we live all at once.

So you see, Bitt, my veganism comes from many different places. Health was the catalyst, if we want to call it that, and I still feel that veganism (as well as the very high portion of raw foods I eat) grants me energy and great health. But I wouldn’t say that health is my main motive at this point. It isn’t what makes veganism attractive to me as something I’m committed to for life. My feelings about its ethical and environmental implications, as well as the great changes it has wrought on my psyche, are what keep me hooked.

The other day, I was asked in an interview if vegans eat coffee. I laughed. “Well sure,” I said. “You have to understand that veganism isn’t about being a health freak. It is, first and foremost, a position of compassion.” Putting aside the fact that I don’t think coffee is a huge health no-no (Matt!), my point was this: veganism goes far beyond what is or isn’t on your plate. I don’t know if this response would have come to me so readily two years or even a year ago. But I said it almost without thinking. If there’s any clear sign of how much my veganism has evolved, this was it.

What about you all? For my vegan readers, what keeps you committed to a vegan diet and lifestyle? Do you identify more with one than the other? What are your reasons for exploring veganism, and sticking to it? And to my non-vegan readers, what are the motives you tend to attribute to vegans and their choices?

xo

Reconsidering Veganism at Thanksliving

Hey guys!

Glad you liked my autumnal menu, and glad (more importantly), that you’d like to see more. That’s great!

I’m here to recap a very special event that I attended a few weeks ago, on October 19th. My friend Cassie asked me if I’d like to help volunteer at the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary’s annual Thanksliving event, which is held, perhaps symbolically, on a date that’s somewhat distant from the actual holiday. The event is meant to raise money for the Sanctuary, to spread awareness about factory farming, and to strengthen the vegan community.

What’s the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary? Nestled in the Catskill mountains—in the town made infamous by peace, love, and rock n’ roll—the Sanctuary is home to farm animals—turkeys, chickens, goats, pigs, cows—who’ve been rescued from neglect, abuse, and abandonment. The evils of factory farming are extraordinarily well documented online and in print, and they’re being decried more and more each day, so I won’t give a full account of the atrocity here. But for those of you who haven’t read much on the topic, farm animals are the most abused and exploited group of animals in the world. Their death toll is 10 billion yearly—that’s 19,000 per minute, if you can fathom it.

In 2004, Jenny Brown and her husband, Doug Abel, moved to Woodstock. Both worked in film; Jenny had been a TV producer, while Doug was (and still is) a film editor whose credits include work on The Fog of War and “30 Rock.” Jenny was a longtime vegetarian and a vegan of several years, and she’d been volunteering for PETA and Farm Sanctuary since the 90’s. As she developed more and more compassion for farm animals and their plight, she decided to learn how to run a sanctuary on her own. Jenny and a group of devoted, tireless volunteers began work on the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary, taking in rescues from all over New England, while Doug edited and worked furiously to cover the cost of the mortgage.

Today, the farm is a refuge for one hundred fifty animals, and in particular for animals that are rescued from the over one hundred slaughterhouses and live kill markets in New York City. It’s also home to some of the most dedicated and hard-working volunteers and staff members I’ve ever seen as part of any charitable organization. On top of all of that, it’s scenic, beautiful, and harmonious; a beautiful place to visit, if only for the landscape.

So naturally, when Cassie asked me if I wanted to tag along and help, I responded with an enthusiastic yes!

I’ve known about Cassie’s work on the farm for some time now; she volunteers often, and even leads tours for visitors. I’ve admired this work from the sidelines. Cassie is one of the most ardent vegans I know, and I really marvel at her devotion to the cause. As someone who’s always been vegan for primarily nutritional reasons, rather than ethical ones(more on that below), I’ve sometimes felt a bit like a fraud participating in the kinds of activism that Cassie commits to. But one can never increase one’s contribution to a good cause without taking a trepidations first step, and I was excited to learn more about the Woodstock operation under Cassie’s encouraging eye.

Cassie, her boyfriend Andy, her brother David, our friend Jen and I drove up to Woodstock on a Saturday afternoon. We planned to spend the day helping to prepare the farm for what would be hundreds of guests on Sunday. I’ll admit, I was a little scared: it was an unseasonably cold weekend in October, and the forecast had predicted snow! It wasn’t snowing when we arrived in Woodstock, but it was pretty cold, and we all bundled up for an afternoon of farm work.

Before we did, Cassie took me around the farm to see the animals. First, we stopped in on the pigs. I had no idea that pigs are veritable giants! They’re huge. Apparently, most pigs are never given the chance to reach full size, which is why we don’t often realize just how enormous they are. Enormous or not, they’re really adorable—even if all they did in my presence was sleep.

Next, we stopped in on the goats. Cassie introduced me to her favorite goat, Fern, while I did my best to remain standing in a flock of very friendly—perhaps overly friendly–goats who were trying to eat the dried alfalfa I’d brought with me to share. Some outtakes:

Next, we checked out the cows. Near to the cow field is an abandoned veal crate, along with a sign that details how veal is produced. I’d read this before, but a reminder about the abuses of veal production was still stirring.

Cassie and I lucked out with a warm job that night: we folded merchandise and sipped tea inside the farm office and store, while Andy and David did outdoorsy chores, and stopped in on us routinely to warm up. Jen made about four hundred vegan meatmalls in the kitchen. By 7:45, we were all tired, and I was becoming mighty cranky (as I inevitably do when I’m hungry!), so we called it a night and drove into town to meet up with our friends Kathleen and her boyfriend, who had just gotten engaged at a bed and breakfast nearby!

Dinner was at the Garden Cafe, an awesome vegetarian café with a raw-friendly menu. I ordered two salads, a side of guacamole, and a warm seaweed dish. We were all hungry when we arrived, and a few of us noted how funny it was that not only I, but Kathleen, too, was carrying an avocado around to snack on. It was dispatched of quickly: that’s me and Cass doing away with the avo, before the entrees even arrived.

We spent the night in a motel that had been lifted directly from the sound lot of a bad horror movie, and we woke up the next morning ready to work.

When we arrived at the farm, we were broken up into different stations: Cass and Jen were selling merchandise, while David, Andy and I were put on the wait staff. This meant a lot of carrying trays and a lot of busing tables, but I knew it would also mean a lot of free food!

The menu for the event featured donations from Blossom and Candle 79, among other great New York City restaurants. The menu included homemade vegan meatballs, black eyed pea cakes from Blossom, dumplings from Candle 79, seitan skewers, roast autumn vegetables, faux turkey with cranberry sauce and vegan stuffing, and three cakes (pumpkin, peanut butter, and chocolate layer) for dessert. Hello, abundance. Can you imagine a better Thanksgiving feast? We volunteers had been promised an all you can eat leftover meal after the event, and while the menu wasn’t bursting with raw options, I knew I’d have plenty of vegan fare to savor.

The morning was spent in a blur of table setting and squatting in front of the giant heat lamps that had been brought in to heat the tent. We all waited for snow and cold – it was misty outside, but not quite bad – as the guests began to arrive. VIPs of the day were the MC, comedian Dan Piraro:

Nathan Runkle, Executive Director of Mercy for Animals, John Phillips of the New York League of Humane Voters, and Jenny herself. A giant raffle was set up in the center of the room, including more incredible vegan swag than I can do justice to here: I don’t remember it all, but included a cool bat from Matt and Nat; an entire Dr. Bronner’s basket; a cookbook basket; spa getaway weekends and free treatments; various bath and body products; a varied gift basket from Herbivore; and (the one I coveted the most) a free 30 class card to Jivamukti yoga!

As visitors piled in, my fellow servers and I began passing out the tasty appetizers. That’s me with my fellow server, Sarah. (Thank you, Sarah, for saving my hind when I had no clue which table needed food and which didn’t):

And a cute photo with Cass:

After the visitors had done away with vegan stuffed mushrooms, seitan and gardein skewers, the ridiculously tasty black eyed pea cakes, and the rest of the apps, we hunkered down for table service.

Who says vegan Thanksgiving isn’t even better than the norm?

As lovely as it was to marvel at the food, the trays were heavy! And the appetizer trays had been twice as heavy. So that quizzical look on my face is not only me thinking “WOW, that looks a whole lot like real turkey, doesn’t it??” but also me thinking “I’d better try really hard to look as though I’m not about to drop these four plates of food on the ground.”

But I didn’t.

As I served the hungry diners their tormenting fragrant and warm food, I got to hear John Philips argue eloquently about the need for legislation to protect animals

and Nathan Runkle describe the real atrocities of the factory farm system.

Finally, Jenny came up to bid her guests a good afternoon and to say a few words about the farm. After sharing a really poignant slideshow about the year’s notable rescues (including Fern, who’d arrived with a very broken leg), Jenny reminded her audience of why veganism matters to her. “This isn’t,” she said, “about having a perfect bowel movement, OK? Veganism is about the animals.”

This statement, of course, could have been written for me. While I’ve always felt very good about not contributing to animal slaughter, and while I take pride in the environmental impact of my veganism, I’ve always been a vegan for health reasons, not for the animals, and I’m the first to admit it. My weekend at the farm didn’t exactly transform this stance, but it did force me to refine it. I believe that it’s perfectly legitimate to avoid animal products for purely dietary reasons. But as any “dietary vegan,” as I sometimes label myself for clarity, will attest, veganism without an emphasis on animals and animal rights can begin to feel slightly disingenuous, or to present sticky ethical questions.

My own ethical question—the main one, anyway—is this: is it fair for me to say that I’m glad that I don’t contribute to farm factory slaughter, or to environmental damage, and yet not embrace these factors as stated motives for my veganism? In other words, isn’t it a little lame that I claim to take pride in those choices, but I absolve myself of real consistency or responsibility by also saying that they’re only added bonuses of my lifestyle, and not principle motives?

More importantly, does learning more about factory farming and spending more time around animals change my feelings about veganism for animal rights?

The answer to the last question is most certainly yes. While I’ve never been much of an animal lover, I also have nothing but contempt for animal torture. What I think is really peculiar is the fact that our society likes to sentimentalize and humanize our pets on the one hand, and abuse and consume farm animals on the other. As Nathan Runkle and Jenny both made abundantly clear, and as Jonathan Safran Foer is stating firmly in his popular new book, Eating Animals, farm animals are as sentient and deserving of compassion as our own dogs and cats. To lavish attention on pets, and consume animal flesh at without discrimination, is a contradiction in terms.

My weekend in Woodstock only gave me more compassion for farm animals (and the people who work to help them). And that compassion is certainly forcing me to redefine the terms of my veganism. More and more, I say (and I meant it) that I’m a vegan for health reasons, and also for compassion.

What will this mean? Right now, I try to buy only vintage or pre-worn leather, but I occasionally buy non-vintage shoes. I’m feeling increasingly compelled to change this stance to only vintage or pre-worn, and possibly all synthetic. I’m not entirely certain where I stand on wool (a great conversation about wool popped up in the comments section of this wonderful post on Crazy Sexy Life this week), but I’m giving it thought; fur is obviously out of the question.

What about food? Well, by now you guys know my dietary stance: all vegan, mostly all raw. This said, honey is a bit of a thorn in my side; I’ve heard conflicting reports on whether honey is, in fact, environmentally sound or not. Most of what I’ve read suggests that local honey from ethical bee farmers is in fact a positive good, but I’ve seen scores of information to the contrary. My feeling these days is that I’ll do my best to use agave, yacon, or maple syrup whenever possible; I will, though, like to point out a hypothetical that my friend Lindsay likes to use, which is this: if I had to choose between white bread that was vegan and whole grain or sprouted bread made with a touch of honey, whole grain would win. In such a case, health concern would trump a strict adherence to veganism.

There are contradictions in my position on the vegan lifestyle right now, and I’m aware of them. Most of them, I hope, are gentle contradictions, but I’m a stickler for consistency, and part of why I’ve written this post is to help articulate some of my own feelings of conflict. What I know for sure is that I’m no longer comfortable saying that I’m vegan only for health (and personal taste) reasons; that felt honest a few years ago, but it doesn’t feel honest now. I’m sure many vegans who began as vegetarians can recall the “slippery slope”—you think you’re just giving up meat, but over time, you simply can’t stomach or feel great about milk or cheese anymore. So too with the ethical dimensions of veganism; it’s hard to do it for a long time without coming to terms with the fact that the lifestyle really is about compassion, as well as health.

In any case, I’m grateful to Cassie (and other vegan friends of mine) for helping me to confront some of the little inconsistencies and fears of commitment in my own vegan stance. Here in the blog world we so often talk about women and men who inspire us. Cassie inspires me as few friends do; she’s as passionate bout animal suffering as she is about helping to alleviate human illness and suffering, and she’s consistent in all ways vegan. I’m inspired by her commitment and lack of apology, and I want her to know it!

My friends and I left Woodstock on Sunday with happily full bellies; after an hour of busing tables, we finally got to devour the leftover food. I helped myself to mountains of perfectly roasted fall vegetables, a big mesclun salad with avocado and carrot dressing from Candle 79, and sampled the very extraordinary vegan peanut butter cake (YOWZA–check out the dessert table before we volunteers had had our way with it!).

As soon as I got back to the city, I dove into my amazing schwag bag from the event, which included vegan soap, herbamare (one of my favorite products, ever), an Alternative Baking Company cookie, Endangered Species chocolate (thank you, Jenny), a vegan keychain, natural tampons, natural dishwashing liquid samples, a gluten-free snack bar, vegan parmesan, and a whole lot more that I’m now forgetting. It also included one of the new mini-Larabars, which I imagine to be a nice dessert, but I really can’t fathom as a snack—it’s tiny!

I’m sending a huge thank you to Jenny and Doug for their hospitality at the farm that weekend, to Cassie for bringing me, to the guest speakers for inspiring me, and to the weather for not snowing on me, after all.

I’m leaving you with pictures taken by the lovely Derek Goodwin, who captured the event in perfect detail, and walked around with a sticker that said “vegan paparazzi” all weekend. Word. You can check out Derek’s own website for more on his work.

To read more about WFAS, please check out their website here. It includes information about factory farming, about the farm’s resident animals, and about volunteering.

Have a great night, all.

xo