Archive for December, 2008
Activism as being, not doing
Dec 29th
This past summer I read a lot books and articles about “veganism”—mostly from Vegan Outreach, some from Peter Singer—that suggested what we “must” do as vegans: that is, we “must” reduce the most suffering possible with our time; it is our “moral obligation.”
I think I became addicted to this sense of moral obligation. For most of the summer I tried to justify my actions by this standard: “Is it ethical for me to write poetry? Activism reduces more suffering.” “Is it o.k. to spend so much time with my girlfriend? People are starving.” I “broke down” several times over my internal conflict. I went leafleting when school started in the fall, which made me feel a little better. I was nervous, but it was the ethical thing to do. I was doing my duty.
Since the summer I’ve started to experience activism differently. This fall, V pointed out to me a problem with “should/must” language. Telling others what they “must” do assumes things about their life and their personality that they have money to donate, or that they’re able-bodied). I tried shifting my language from “we must” to “I want.” I tried showing more respect to people who wouldn’t go vegan. I tried to stop judging others for the suffering they didn’t help stop.
Because leafleting felt so forced the first time, I didn’t leaflet again for two months. Then in the fall one day I woke up and thought, “I feel good. I want to do something to help others. I will leaflet.” The action came from “I want” instead of “I must.” I felt less nervous. Instead of doing my “duty,” I was doing what I wanted.
I recently realized that V has written to me about this difference before, referring to “internally driven” versus “externally driven” activism. V had pointed out that many people start doing activism with external motivation, trying to secure good feelings or a “do-gooder” image, but their motivation often shifts over time. V explained, “With internally driven activism, the activist is motivated by something inside themselves and activism feels much more integrated into the individual (as opposed to being an identity).” As V wrote, “activism is the external expression of the internal state.”
Activism as “being,” or internally driven activism, is also less directly focused on “results. “ If a person is “simply” “being” the love (or respect, compassion, peace) they feel, they’re not directly concerned with the number of leaflets they distribute. They’re concerned with being the most complete expression of love possible.
Allowing my activism to become more internally driven has been healthy for me. Instead of hating myself for the suffering I don’t stop—holding myself responsible for changing the world—I can focus on who I am. I can focus on my effort and my actions.
the permeation of privilege
Dec 27th
The appeal of western holidays has long since worn off for me; I make it a point to avoid anything resembling a traditional celebration of Thanksgiving and Christmas because, in recent years, the consumeristic, privileged, exploitative aspects of the holidays have far outweighed the joy of being around a table with friends and family. I usually visit vegan friends during the holidays or use the time off from work to make art, take walks, or do other things that get neglected during the daily grind.
I thought that by spending this year-end with a posse of vegan friends, I would avoid the discomfort that often accompanies a gathering of my family members, whose unchecked privilege tends to permeate the discussions and the activities of a holiday weekend; as many of you can attest, it can be exhausting to face the continuous onslaught of questions and accusations that characterizes our time with non-vegans. However, I found myself feeling very alone in a room full of people whom I would have considered allies. It’s shocking, once you start peeling away the layers of privilege and committing to a fight against all forms of oppression, how much privilege actually affects our lives.
We were being shown a slideshow of a vegetarian couple’s recent trip to a Latin American country. In it were photos of “exotic” locals doing such “photo-worthy” things as removing the chaff of some beans by pouring them from bowl to bowl; selling artisan handcrafts in an open-air market; mixing cement by pouring it into a hole in the ground (“they don’t even have cement mixers!”). I appeared to be the only one in the room who was horrified by the notion of people from North America and Europe moving to these Latin countries and building mansions in the countryside for pennies. It shocked no one else to see locals hired for dollars a day to build these “eco-friendly, sustainable” mansions while the town in which the mansions were located didn’t have enough money in them to make a level bridge that had railings. None of the vegans in the room seemed concerned that materials were being carried up the hill to the building site by donkeys and burros — and some of these homes were being built for “animal rights activists.”
While I do grow tired of being the buzzkill in the room, I couldn’t help but wonder aloud how ethical it was for wealthy, white, supposedly compassionate people to move to an impoverished village in Latin America to gawk and marvel at the folks who have lived there for hundreds of years. Maybe I lack understanding of the global economy, and maybe it can be argued that these American dollars will do wonders for the development of these nations — but it just seemed to me like privilege was being paraded around unnecessarily. By vegans, nonetheless.
Until we change the rhetoric of the ”animal rights” message and begin to challenge all types of exploitation — and all systems of power and privilege — we will never create lasting change. Until we embrace a definition of veganism that goes beyond a label on a box of veggie burgers, there will never be liberation. And until we acknowledge the permeation of privilege into all of the work we do, we will never be able to create a just world.
Confessions of a Speciesist
Dec 24th
I love the new MySpace page that Steven created. Not only is it a great way to reach many people with the anti-oppression view of veganism, it broadens the coverage of issues from our pamphlet, which more narrowly focuses on animals used for food.
In my former life as a person basing my veganism on reducing the suffering of animals, I took a peculiar pride in focusing solely on animals used for food. I had heard (and used) the argument many times before: upwards of 95% of animals used by human animals are exploited by animal agriculture. I felt those who worked on other issues, including circuses, rodeos, pets, fur and vivisection, were using their energies unwisely.
Now I recognize this argument as speciesist. As a human animal, I have the luxury of deciding whose life I deem to be important. Because I am not the elephant at the zoo, I can say (implicitly or explicitly) that the elephant’s life is less important than the life of the chicken in the broiler house. I am horrified that I ever made such a callous judgment and now understand both individuals are equally important.
Even now, when doing public outreach, I show footage of animals used for food. In doing so, I wield my human animal privilege by making a deliberate choice not to show footage of other uses of animals. At each moment, I try to make choices as best I can given my various limitations of time, energy and other factors. That may mean making a choice, enabled by privilege, that I later find unacceptable. As an example, I made a deliberate decision not to mention human animal issues in LOVE’s vegan pamphlet, even in the section speaking about a vegan diet, choosing instead to focus on speciesist oppression. That I felt there was a choice is my privilege in action.
I have been experiencing a shift in my personal thinking about activism. This weekend, a fellow vegan spoke with me about a local retirement community’s plans to shoot 50 acorn woodpeckers, some of whom may be boring into the buildings. In the past, I would have thought such concern for the woodpeckers to be insignificant compared to the billions of animals killed each year for food. Now I finally understand the speciesist privilege in that thinking and know every one of those lives is important. Now I finally understand that all the different ways human animals oppose the use of animals — all of it is vital work – not only as opportunities for education about the various manifestations of speciesist oppression, but also in their own right as protests against injustice.
With the MySpace page, Steven has started to detail other examples of speciesist oppression. We’ve been wanting to bring this into our pamphlet for some time, but have not been able to find time to do so. Hopefully in the future we’ll be able to expand on some of that great text on the MySpace page in the pamphlet and have something to offer that helps bring down another speciesist barrier.
L.O.V.E. on Myspace
Dec 20th
This past week I launched a L.O.V.E. Myspace profile adapted from our pamphlet in order to promote anti-oppression veganism online. I invite everyone to visit the page at myspace.com/stopoppression.
The profile primarily works to promote veganism to non-vegans in the general public. It may also be helpful to vegans who want to better understand anti-oppression. The profile has pictures from factory farms, but the argument is not about “reducing suffering” or banning the “worst abuses”—the argument is for respect for all individuals, and for ending exploitation. If you want to promote veganism to non-vegans online and you don’t like the rhetoric of “reducing suffering,” consider directing people to this page.
I have been adding friends to the profile regularly as an online equivalent to mobile video projection or leafleting. I will occasionally share feedback through our COMMUNITY mailing list. Depending on the results, I could make similar profiles for others who also want to do this kind of outreach.
Speaking your truth
Dec 16th
One of LOVE’s core values is honest communication and part of honest communication is honesty in advocacy. I believe honest advocacy means more than being factually correct; it means telling your truth. Fellow LOVE member J. beautifully illustrates this distinction in an email they sent yesterday about a presentation they are preparing on veganism. They write:
“Originally, I thought I’d say that by adopting a vegan diet, you can help animals, help the environment, and help your own body. However, I now feel that I want to tell the truth, about why I promote veganism. The fact is, even if farm animals were treated very well, and animal agribusiness wasn’t harmful to the environment, and animal products were good for human health, I still think it’s wrong to use animals, without their consent. And since animals can’t give their consent, then it’s just plain wrong to use animals.”
Animal welfare organizations offer many reasons to go vegetarian, but I’ve never heard a single one actually advocate telling our own personal truths. Some ostensibly support truth telling, if only for its efficacy (“honest advocacy is powerful advocacy”), but when some of us who helped start LOVE spoke our truth during and about our vegan advocacy efforts, the animal welfare oligarchy stepped in to try to shut us down.
Until relatively recently, I never asked myself, “Why am I vegan?” nor was I ever encouraged to do so. Because of that, I approached animal advocacy the way I was taught: I memorized a handful of reasons why somebody might choose a plant-based diet and, when I met a potential vegan, I would throw at them the argument I thought they would respond best to. If that didn’t stick, I’d move down the list and throw each successive argument at them until I ran through the list.
The whole time, I felt that overpowering crying-out inside me as promoting somebody else’s agenda repeatedly led to conclusions I found unacceptable: condoning “humane” dairy, eggs and meat; eating less meat as an end goal; condoning hunting and fishing. Many activists I’ve spoken with have shared with me how they felt that same terrible, confusing feeling.
Years later, when I came out of the daze and actually stopped to think about why I was vegan, I realized it wasn’t for all those reasons other people had told me. And it was at that moment of stopping that I started to understand my truth about veganism.
It’s my belief that the way we engage in activism reflects our values. By striving to communicate honestly, directly, and clearly both facts and my intentions, I have experienced a shift in the quality of my activism from a frantic selling of veganism by any means necessary to others to one of engaging in dialogue with others. In so doing, I believe I have begun to restore my integrity and bring the respect I feel inside for others to my activism. So I encourage you, if you’ve never done so before, to ask yourself why you are vegan and I encourage you to speak your truth with others. Because honest advocacy is respectful advocacy.
Why animal commodities still sell
Dec 13th
I try my best to operate outside of the structures of oppression that are currently provided by our society, the economy being one of them. So much of our “American way of life” is built on foundations of — and perpetuated by — oppression. From the class of people who are kept in poverty so that the wealthy have someone to clean their houses and do their nails, to the sex trade that ensures women (and their bodies) a commodity status, to the slaughter of animals so their flesh and fur can be sold on the market, it all seems so heinous that I don’t feel good about participating in any of it — not to mention how preposterous it is to me that we have to pay for basic needs such as food, clothing, and shelter. In that spirit, I am a vegan who grows and forages as much food as possible and is not often found in the faux-meat section of the grocery store. I encourage the growth of small barter economies (see also: the really, really free market; freecycle.org; and freegan.info) and any self-sustainability offered by your local climate (guerrilla gardening, anyone?).
My friend Drew recently passed along the following article about the oppressive qualities of our economic system, the trade in animal bodies as a thriving economy, and what the perpetuation of these systems means for oppressed animals and human animals. It’s a great read, and really got me thinking about how I can further step back from a consumeristic lifestyle. First step: not buying anyone a damn thing for the “holiday season,” because no one should be trampled and left for dead so that others can get a “good bargain” on things they don’t need.
Other suggested reading (get ‘em at your local library!):
- Global Woman by Barbara Ehrenreich
- Grassroots Warriors: Activist Mothering, Community Work, and the War on Poverty by Nancy Naples
- Toolbox for Sustainable City Living: A Do It Ourselves Guide by Stacy Pettigrew and Scott Kellogg
- Food Not Lawns: How to Turn Your Yard into a Garden And Your Neighborhood into a Community by H.C. Flores
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From Bull Market to Bear Market: Why Animal Commodities Still Sell
by John Sanbonmatsu
On Wall Street, the “Bull” market has turned into a “Bear” market—capitalist argot for a market in which sellers crowd out buyers and in which the value of publicly traded corporate stocks falls. Whether rising or falling, however, the capitalist market always treats other living animals the same way, which is to say as symbols of exchange and as living commodities to be bought, sold, traded, killed, and consumed.
In September, at the very moment when world markets were falling sharply throughout the world (the Dow Jones suffered its biggest one day point decline since the 9-11 attacks), at least one investment sector remained profitable to über-wealthy investors: speculation in dead animal bodies, gussied up as High Art. In an article entitled, “Bull Market for Hirst in Sotheby’s 2-Day Sale,” a New York Times reporter wrote:
It was as if Sotheby’s here was a little oasis far removed from the grim news of the financial world. In less than 24 hours, giant tanks of dead sharks, zebras and piglet submerged in formaldehyde; glass cabinets filled with medical supplies, cigarette butts or diamonds; paintings of everything from dots to skulls—233 works by the British artist Damien Hirst—were snapped up at a brisk clip by collectors from all around the world.
One of Hirst’s works, “Pigs Might Fly,” described by the Times as “a piglet with dove’s wings in a gold-plated case filled with formaldehyde,” brought in $872,139. Another , “The Broken Dream,” of “a foal’s head floating in formaldehyde with a knife beside it” brought in $907,480. In the end, the two-day sale of Hirst’s art netted $200 million—about half the Gross National Product of the country of East Timor (population: 1.1 million). Maybe a foal’s head floating in formaldehyde isn’t really good art—aestheticians will quarrel–but no one can say it isn’t good business.
Nonhuman animals in fact remain one of the few universal symbols of exchange under modern capitalism. Human beings buy and sell other animals like slaves, display them alive in zoos and aquariums for their pleasure, kill and stuff them for the local Natural History Museum, buy and sell them as “livestock,” or turn their corpses into art (Hirst’s ersatz animal sculptures are merely the latest iteration of nature morte, the “still [dead] life” tradition handed down to us by medieval and early modern European artists). Even today, as we enter the most profound crisis in world capitalism since the 1930s, Wall Street continues to do a brisk business in Pork Belly Futures. First offered on the Chicago Merchantile Exchange in 1961 (as a way for hog producers to hedge against price volatility in the market), Pork Belly Futures allows capitalists to place bets on the number of living beings who will be commodified and slaughtered in the future. That is not exactly right, however. So vast is the market that the minimum unit of exchange is in fact counted not in individual beings (who, after all, do not count), but as a quantity of flesh–“40,000 pounds of frozen pork bellies cut and trimmed.” Shylock may not get Bassanio’s pound of flesh, but today’s wealthy investors (Gentiles, Jews, Muslims, Atheists) get their’s by the ton.
What about those who lack the resources to gamble on the future options market, or who can’t cough up a cool mill for one of Hirst’s formaldehyde-drenched piglets ? Try starting up your own pig business. Global Swine Exchange thrives to “assist swine producers as well as other livestock producers throughout the world in finding breeding stock…with superior genetic potential for existing, expanding, or beginning operations.” Or start even smaller: many companies sell live baby pigs online for individuals to feed, nurture, and murder on their own, for $110 each. However, raising a pig can be daunting. So the growing vogue among young urban professionals and suburban soccer moms these days is to raise chickens rather than pigs at home. Baby chickens are even cheaper–$2.12 each per head. You can also accessorize. The Omlet Company sells an “eglu” for your backyard– “a truly innovative, practical and fun way of keeping chickens.” (“Collecting fresh eggs from hens in your backyard not only ensures you get fantastic tasting eggs but you also get a good feeling inside from knowing exactly where your food comes from.”) And when the chicken no longer produces good eggs, or if you’re just tired of being an urban farmhand, why, just kill your animal–by decapitating her. You can buy a DVD to learn how to do that too (www.chickenvideo.com).
Few animal rights activists appreciate how much capitalism continues to be one of the main driving force behind the extermination and enslavement of other sentient beings. While humans have been enslaving other animals at least since the Neolithic Era, some 12,000 years ago, only in the twentieth century did nonhuman beings get reduced to pure commodities—to abstract quantities to be viewed and treated as mere things. Capitalism reduces all value to the value of exchange—to what can be bought and sold for profit. The barbaric practices we see today throughout the animal slaughter industry –unwanted baby chicks being suffocated alive in large garbage bags, or fed alive into crushing machines; pigs and cows being skinned or boiled alive, the extermination of the great fishes of the free oceans (through the euphemistically named, “over-fishing”), minks and foxes being electrocuted and gassed by the millions for their fur, factory “fish farms,” where salmon, talapia, and other captive species live out their short lives in tiny watery hells filled with thousands of other fish, eating and breathing their own feces, and on and on—are the necessary complement to the capitalist mode of production. Just as capitalism forces a “race to the bottom” in human workers’ wages, it places irresistible pressures at every point of the animal production system to maximize the unfeeling exploitation of animal bodies. For the only way to meet demand for flesh in a mass consumer society is to cut corners, speed up production, hire unskilled labor, and lower production costs. As for the animals trapped in such a system, they become objects to be manipulated at will, even on the genetic level, as though they were not living, breathing, feeling, thinking beings. The atrocities we hear about in animal agriculture reveal the essence of capitalism as such, which is fascism.
As the world capitalist economy now convulses and enters its greatest crisis since the Great Depression, the stakes for the other animals with whom we share the planet could not be higher. In the short-term, a global economic depression will indirectly reduce some animal exploitation. Depression will hurt some markets for animal flesh, as government subsidies for agribusiness face new pressures, and as people cut back on expensive “meats.” Investment in genetic engineering of nonhuman animals, especially for pharmaceuticals, will persist, but there will be less and less money available for R&D. However, global depression will also hurt animals in a variety of ways. As the ranks of the unemployed swell, so too will the animal shelters, as families find that they must choose between eating and keeping their nonhuman companions. Meanwhile, in the Third World, increasingly desperate farmers, displaced urban workers, and landless peasants will turn more and more to “scorched earth” consumption practices simply to survive in the face of regional and local wars, mass starvation, and social dislocation. (Pity the poor Mountain Gorillas of the Congo, whose lives, like those of millions of black human Congolese, count for nothing these days.)
In the long-term, however, the greater danger facing the other animals on our earth is not the economic downturn, but eventual stabilization and recovery of the world capitalist order itself. If the Obama Administration and other governing corporate and political elites succeed in stabilizing capitalism, enabling it to live to see another day, then we can look forward to another hundred years of ecological ruin and mass enslavement and killing of billions of other sentient beings. So long as other animals are seen and treated as commodities for the ceaseless production of more and more profit for the few, their fates will be sealed. The rate of animal and plant species extinction will continue to accelerate, as global warming and habitat destruction deprive them of the basic means of life. Meanwhile, the living Hell that is the American system of animal agriculture—what can only be called the “concentration camp” model of flesh production—will continue to be exported to all four corners of the globe.
Hierarchy, privilege, and companion animals
Dec 9th
This question came into our COMMUNITY mailing list this morning, and we have moved it to the blog to open it up for discussion. Please post your comments and thoughts!
Hi there:
I’m Annie. I’m not sure how many people are registered to this list, since I think the website just went up. I met Miranda through Vegan Outreach and did some leafletting with her at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo. I have so many questions about animal rights, since I’m pretty new to this. I hope it’s okay to use this email community for that. I thought it would be a great place for me to ask questions relating to AR and outreach (in particular, dealing with people’s questions). As it sounds like the creators of this website are well aware of, there are so many different viewpoints within this “one” movement, if you can even call it that (as with any social justice movement), and it gets pretty confusing sometimes. I know what I feel in my heart, but
there are a lot of ‘gray’ areas when it comes to reality and rationality. I suppose I’m always thinking about how I can justify my beliefs or actions because I assume people will always question them (and attack them, unfortunately) . . . it’s like a pre-emptive defense of my point of view.
So here are my questions:
1. I do believe very strongly in the idea that the relationship between humans and other-than-human animals is based on hierarchy, power differentials and oppression. I always ask myself, “How is it possible that we can treat animals in such unfathomably horrific ways?” and I often the only answer I can find is “because we can, because we can get away with it, and as history has shown, if we CAN exploit something, we WILL, for the most part.” Exploitation and abuse of power are a part of human history, but so are compassion and ethical evolution. So anyways, the point is that I get that – the oppression idea – and believe in full animal liberation. I’ve heard the argument that it is ‘unnatural’ for animals to be fully liberated
from their human ’superiors,’ and that like most other species, we too have always ‘used’ other species for our own needs. The first thing I think of is that humanity is in no way bound to the so-called ‘laws of
nature,’ or by our ancestral beginnings. We have also exploited and enslaved each other for thousands of years, and that is not ethically accepted. And IF we have the means to live compassionate, cruelty free lives, why wouldn’t we? Does anyone else have any input on this? I suppose I should read the book (“The Dreaded Comparison”). But I’m just curious what anyone has found in conversations about these issues with other activists and non-vegans alike.
2. So what about pets? I feel guilty about having my cat and dog (don’t worry, I know, I am their guardian not their owner, and if anyone owns anyone, they own me, as I’m excessively devoted to them). Anyways, I adopted my cat from a dumpster and my dog from a Navajo reservation in Arizona where the people (oppressed) do not have enough resources for themselves let alone the many stray, starving cats and dogs there). My dog has so many health problems, probably from the poor nutrition as a puppy and the genetic problems (there’s a lot of uranium and radiation there from the mining that has totally destroyed the environment and the ability of the Navajo people who remain out in the desert to sustain themselves), that sometimes I think he very likely would’ve died if he’d been left out there. I also am thinking about adopting another dog from the shelter, because if there’s anything that would make my dog happy, it would be to live with one of his own kind (I think, I guess I shouldn’t assume that, but it’s pretty obvious). I would NEVER ‘buy’ a dog from a breeder or puppy mill. I will always support spaying and neutering and adoption though, I think. We ‘enslaved’ and domesticated these animals, we can’t exactly just leave them to die in shelters or on the street (right?).
So I guess I’ve answered that question, but it still really confuses me and weighs on my conscience. I have complete control over them. My dog can’t do anything (like go out, or eat) unless I help him with it. I do the best I can to give him a great life and take him out all the time, but I still feel bad.
The other thing about pets, is, of course, the FOOD! At the animal rights conference in DC, there was a discussion about our ‘animal companions,’ and some people were saying that we animal rights people shouldn’t bare the burden of adopting all of society’s ‘throw-away’ animals because they eat meat. He was saying ‘why would you ever invite a carnivore or omnivore into your house and feed them meat?” Yeah, obviously, with people . . . I’m not gonna have family over and cook them up a ham, but when it comes to my pets (especially my cat), I just don’t know. They’re already in my life since long before I became vegan. I’ve heard that dogs can do pretty well on vegan diets, but I’ve heard that cats can get really sick without any meat. Does anyone have any input about that.
I’m sorry if this isn’t the intention of this email list. I just thought it would be cool to discuss some of the most ‘controversial’ issues and arguments that come up inside and outside of this movement.
I have SO much to learn.
Annie
My Magic Super Power
Dec 8th
My name is Miranda and I don’t have all the answers. What I do have is the magic super power of personal experience, which I wield to the best of my ability. I believe that all of us have access to this incredible tool and, when armed with personal experience, our potential as activists can flourish wildly. But I suppose I should tell you a bit more about myself before saying anymore about magic powers…
Along with my partner in life and in L.O.V.E., Victor, I am a vegan activist currently working in Oakland, CA. Formerly a paid leafleter for Vegan Outreach, I am now enjoying the freedom found in independent, local, grassroots activism. Over the past 12 years, I have engaged in many forms of activism, primarily focused on speciesm including circus and fur protests, leafleting, tabling, marching, classroom presentations, and most recently, mobile video projection. Out of those 12 years of fighting for what I believed in, I have a.) only been vegan for 6 ½ of those 12 years, b.) only started to be an effective activist within the last 9 months, and c.) only started to understand what it is I do believe in within the last year.
In the years leading up to this newfound clarity, I worked to eliminate suffering, without really thinking about what the end result of that work would look like. My world was turned upside-down when, last December, I read The Dreaded Comparison by Marjorie Spiegel, which showed me that oppression is oppression is oppression. I began to see the world through the lens of power imbalances, noting that in every interaction, someone holds the greater power and the outcome of that interaction hinges upon that power imbalance. I realized that suffering was only a symptom; oppression was the root. I realized that I hadn’t been honest with myself in my veganism and, therefore, hadn’t been speaking honestly with the public in my outreach.
The lesson I have learned, and am still learning, is to constantly seek the truth, even if that means abandoning ideas thought to be true in the past, even if it means that 11 years of activism were spent working towards someone else’s goal. This brings me back to that magic super power I mentioned earlier, personal experience. The process of making mistakes, learning from them, and subsequently making new choices is extremely valuable. Through this process, discovery of personal truth becomes possible, and thus, we may become effective advocates for sustainable change.
A path to L.O.V.E.
Dec 8th
October 17, 2007. Earlier that evening, I had spoken with a group of budding pig farmers in eastern Washington state. I was working full time as the Western Outreach Coordinator for Vegan Outreach, had daily experience in fielding questions from skeptical omnivores about animal suffering and cruelty, and had answered every question “by the book,” so why was it that nothing I said had seemed to get through? And why, I wondered, did I feel like that in small ways every day in my conversations with omnivores about veganism?
That night, sitting in my car replaying and unpacking all these conversations in my head, I realized that what I thought I thought about veganism didn’t mesh with how I truly felt. I had the sudden realization that suffering and cruelty are symptoms of a deeper problem. That moment started me on the path to L.O.V.E.
When Miranda and I first started talking about veganism from within the framework of oppression, it was exciting and lonely: exciting because we could finally articulate the connection we always knew was there between speciesism and the other forms of oppression we were working against, lonely because we didn’t know anybody else who felt the same way.
As it turned out, there were plenty of people who did feel this way. We read The Dreaded Comparison. We discovered the great writers at The Vegan Ideal and the Vegans of Color blogs. And then we found out Jenna felt the same way. And Steven. Far from being alone, we had joined a growing movement!
And yet there was something missing. There was no place where a person could learn the whys and hows of veganism in a way consistent with anti-oppression. There was no place that provided resources and other support for activists in this movement. So here we are today, creating this community to support those spreading the anti-oppression view of veganism.
I hope this blog, our web site and mailing list will be jumping off points for a continuing conversation and learning about veganism as anti-oppression. I invite you to participate in the discussion, challenge our ideas and your own, and see where it takes us all.
Who I am, why I’m here
Dec 7th
My name is Steve. I’m a poet, student, and writing tutor living in Mount Pleasant, MI. I’ve been eating vegan for a year and a half, but I’ve been more involved in veganism for the past eight months. I’ve done some leafleting and tabling, and I’ve created a Myspace tool for online activism, to be relaunched soon [now up]. Online activism holds “a special place” for me because it was how I learned about veganism.
My interest in L.O.V.E.’s mission arose from an e-mail conversation with L.O.V.E. member V, who wrote about veganism as anti-oppression. Initially I struggled to understand how power and privilege connect to nonhuman animal use, probably because I have a very privileged (white, male, able-bodied, heterosexual, middle-class) background. At the time I advocated Peter Singer’s understanding of veg*nism, which centers suffering and happiness.
I kept writing to V because of an intuition I had about promoting veganism as opposed to reduced meat consumption. Singer’s philosophy said promoting veganism was “asking too much,” but I felt the opposite way: I felt I wasn’t asking enough when people said they had a reduced meat diet and walked away. I felt dishonest not to say more; I felt I had to silence a “crying out” in me. The same thing happened when I found an insect in my apartment. Singer’s logic said it’s o.k. to kill an insect, but killing the insect felt wrong to me. I didn’t want to be the person Singer’s logic told me I should be.
I started to appreciate anti-oppression veganism once I understood that preventable nonhuman suffering is only a result of speciesist oppression. Then instead of asking, “Would I rather end suffering or end oppression?” I thought, “If I want to end suffering, then I need to end oppression.” I read from more anti-oppression writers. I thought more about racism, sexism, and homophobia, as well—I always opposed these things, but I had never thought about them in relation to veganism.
I feel I am now a “testament” to the fact that even the most privileged people can understand and reject privilege. I feel I am a “testament” to the fact that a person doesn’t need to be part of an oppressed group to want liberation for all oppressed groups.