There are many reactions that I could have had to this article in the Airdrie City News by Jessica Wallace. In it, she walks you through her reasoning behind explaining away, and making excuses for, her veganism. I think she sums it up nicely in this thought:
“It’s a stubborn circle of worry about being an inconvenience, about being judged and of failure”
You really get it from both sides as a vegan, don’t you? On the one hand, you have my grandmother, who offered me soup for breakfast one panicked morning, because she couldn’t conceive of how I could have breakfast without eggs. On the other, you have vegan acquaintances who give you the hairy eyeball for wearing a wool sweater or having a cat. A girl just can’t win, can she?
I will admit, there have been times where I’ve felt very guilty for the extra lengths gone through by the people who love & care for me, just to make sure I’m fed. I’m always the first to offer to bring my own dish or show up early to help cook when there’s a food-based gathering invovled. Being brushed away from that offer makes me feel like a huge pain in the ass. Not using animal-based products in my food is my choice, and I don’t think someone should have to learn to make a new dish or buy a specialized ingredient just to accomodate me. Can you tell both of my parents were raised Catholic?
But stop and think about that last sentiment (not the Catholic thing, the other thing). Since when is branching out and learning to cook something new a bad thing? There are hundreds of thousands of people in culinary school paying very good money to learn how to do just that. And there are a lot of great vegan products out there. So what if you end up with one of them in your fridge, taking up real estate that used to belong to something that was animal-based? You might end up actually liking it and preferring it over the original! Oh, the horrors!
As for this insane notion of being a “good vegan” or a “bad vegan” or being “vegan enough,” I’ve had about enough of that, thank you very much. If you wanted to be “the perfect vegan,” you’d have to live way the fuck out in the woods, in a house made from fallen timber and not drive a car or take medicine or use a computer because, guess what? All of our modern conveniences that make us so cozy and happy have, at one point or another, involved the unwilling participation of an animal. It’s not about perfection. It’s about awareness.
I can empathize with Jessica. I became a vegan because I loathe the idea of taking something that doesn’t belong to me. That makes sense to me. And I understand that it doesn’t make sense to a lot of other people. I understand so much, in fact, that I have routinely found myself going very far out of my way to make sure my choices don’t inconvenience other people. At the same time, I’ve also found myself being very, very careful about the thoughts or opinions that I express around my vegan friends, lest they think I’m not a “good vegan.” I mean, what would they think if they knew that I allow my fiance to not be a vegan? Clearly, I’d be the worst vegan in recorded history.
And then I have to remind myself for whom I became a vegan; myself! I didn’t do it because I wanted other people to look at me and say “God, she’s a vegan! That is so cool!” (by the way, for the baby vegans out there, that NEVER happens). I did it so that I could reduce the suffering that went on in the world due to my wants and desires. What the fuck do I care what other vegans think of me? Not a single one of us are perfect. Because, in the end:
“It makes me feel like if you can take on the food system you can take on the world, and, in a sense, you are.”
That’s what it’s all about. Take on your little corner of the world and fuck everyone else.
Made From Real Vegans 