Vegetarian - Up-Close and Personal

This Thanksgiving I celebrate the 20th year of my decision to rid my life of animal products as much as possible. The process of living out this decision hasn’t always been easy, consistent, or even logical to other people. Understanding what makes me feel comfortable and healthy has taken years. Learning how to live in the world after making a decision that will forever keep me out of mainstream America is a learning process all of its own. I’ve learned that placating others at my own expense gets me just as far as alienating others with a radical activist lifestyle: nowhere. But because this has always been a very personal decision, and by “personal” I mean, “about me,” it isn’t a subject I talk about very often: I almost never introduce the topic into conversation, and I don’t carry around facts and figures about the benefits of keeping a vegetarian diet, or how I pick my cleaning and cosmetic supplies based on the absence of animal-derived ingredients or animal testing.

But the topic does come up, particularly at mealtimes. Eating family-style at a restaurant isn’t always easy for me when dining with carnivores. People are always recommending the best hot dog or the tenderest veal. I will often smile and nod as a response, because I really don’t remember what hot dogs taste like and I don’t know that I’ve actually ever eaten veal. When someone asks me why I need to eat “special” or why I won’t eat the meat on the table, I try to keep my explanation short (i.e., “I don’t like boiled yak” or “I’m a vegetarian,”) and leave it at that.

I find that there are two of camps of individuals who carry the conversation further: those who are curious and those who want me to justify my actions because they want to find holes in my argument and help me to see the err of my ways. I’m happy to talk to the former and even recommend literature and recipes for those who are interested. With the latter, I am confronted on a frequent basis. I don’t enjoy these conversations as much as I did when I was trying to be a radical PETA member. Nothing I say will comfort these obviously threatened individuals, and their attacks are based on assumptions that have nothing to do with me. Besides, I feel no need to justify a personal decision or way of life that hurts nobody.

Also, these conversations tend to spring up in crowded restaurants, loud bars, and other places where anything but an elevator explanation is impossible. Have you ever tried to explain a deeply personal and very involved subject to someone who is distracted, can’t really hear you, and doesn’t really feel like having a deep, psychological conversation? It is frustrating and next to impossible. I tend to leave these people with the impression that I think shrimp is ugly, and cows are bloody, and therefore inedible.

And since most of my vegetarian conversations are exactly in this context, I thought I might put together a little informal whitepaper in blog form. For anyone who is really interested in knowing how I reached my definition of “food,” for those of you who might be interested in vegetarianism in its various forms, or for friends who actually want to learn about something about who I am, the next several blog entries are for you. For those who just aren’t interested, please just ignore the subject tag “Vegetarian”.