Our local animal rights group, Animal Rights & Rescue of North Texas, is always looking for opportunities for outreach. At the same time that we were searching for our next event, it became apparent to me that there are opportunities for education all around us, if only we learn to recognize them. The week that school started back in session was a good example of how many opportunties we may miss if we are not actively looking for them.

Back to School

I take my five year old grandson to school. Before the kindergarten teacher arrives, the children are to sit in the hallway until the bell rings and she opens the door.  While waiting with my grandson, the little boy next to him raised his heel to squash a tiny bug that was crawling across the floor. My grandson, ever alert, stopped the little boy in mid-squash as I kindly admonished the potential bug-killer and suggested we escort the bug outside the double glass doors. I carefully scooped up the little guy or gal, took him/her to the other side of the doors, and completed my direct rescue for the morning.  Suddenly, all the kids were at the doors, peering at the bug. “Oh, look, he has wings!” one of the children proclaimed.  They were all engrossed in watching the small insect and every young face was pressed to the glass. I asked my grandson to return to his place on the side of the hallway to wait for the bell when he explained, “I have to protect him. He (the bug-squasher) still wants to squash him!”

The day before, as I waited for the final bell to ring, I sat with another grandparent and discussed the heat spell that has engulfed Texas for much of the summer. I mentioned the horses that were having a rough time with the heat, and he told me about the nine found dead in this part of north Texas — they had been on an automatic watering system while the owner was absent and, with no one checking on them, the well ran dry and the horses perished. I had received a call only last week about another group of horses that a woman was frantically trying to save -she feared one foal was already dead. They were tied with no shelter and no water. The only water on the place was dried over with scum and appeared to be filled with snakes. She had reportedly contacted the police but they said there was nothing they could do. (The animals were removed before our plan could be implemented.) Chatting with this other grandparent was a small opportunity to discuss the importance of respecting all forms of life and the dreadful consequences of not doing so.

Banking on Education

Only last week, as two technicians were working in my garage, one approached me after seeing the sign on my car for our rescue group. His dog had been recently killed by another, aggressive dog who was then returned to his owner. This young man was concerned the dog would kill again, and he wanted to know of an animal-friendly attorney he might contact. I was able to link him to a rescue group that maintained that information and the two workers began discussing how much they care about animals. Like many Texans, they had not yet drawn the connection between what they eat,wear and use, and that concern for others. I ran in the house and came out with some information about animal rights, wrote down the number of the referral, and talked with them for about five or ten minutes about animals and veganism.

Then, only yesterday, I opened up a bank account for ARRNT, and the account executive began asking me about the work that we do. He was interested in veganism for health reasons and was quite receptive to the information I gave, most from my personal experiences. He was hung up on one aspect of animal rights though – rats. He said he did not like rats and could not accept that they had any significance whatsoever. I asked him if he had ever spent any time with rats or been around a pet rat, and we talked about how familiarity sometimes changes our opinions of others. I promised to drop by some information about veganism and he seemed very appreciative.

Bringing Down Defenses

Last week, in preparing for the upcoming ARRNT meeting, I was discussing with a city employee the possibility of our tabling at the local Farmers Market. I had spoken to this woman last year, before our group was started, and she was quite interested, stating she would like to learn more about veganism herself. This year, however, the market is bustling, and she thought maybe we could see if Prairie Paws, our local animal shelter, might give us some  space on their table. She was alarmed at the word “advocate” and seemed to hear “activist,” which she said concerned her – they did not want any trouble. Also, she balked at our name — animal rights — wouldn’t that stir up trouble, too? I assured her that we were all about peace and only wanted to provide educational materials for those that might be interested. “I don’t know; you are against what some of our vendors are selling as they sell meat.”  True, I said, but we would be promoting the produce vendors. She agreed that many folks need to change their dietary habits, but seemed to feel our group might not be a good addition.  We are part of the community, too, I said – only last week it was announced that UNT (University of North Texas) had opened one of their cafeterias as an all-vegan cafeteria, open to the public. And Loving Hut, the international vegan chain, was opened in Arlington, a town next to our town. Things are changing, people are interested and very receptive to the information we have, I said.  She equivocated, and said she would speak to her superior, but she really was not comfortable with our group. (I admit to feeling a flash of frustration – the flesh peddlers are welcome but those providing free services are excluded because the truth must not be told?) She gave me the phone number of the new administrator at Prairie Paws and also the name and number of someone hosting a tasting event where vegan food might be welcome. I thanked her for her time and decided this was an opportunity, too – she mentioned not knowing the difference between a vegan and a vegetarian, so I will follow up with more information for her and write a letter of thanks for her time. As I mentioned earlier, familiarity sometimes brings down defenses.

I have taken to wearing a vegan button when I do not have a vegan message shirt on. The sign on my car sometimes draws people to dialogue, and I now keep literature in my car and in my purse, available to disseminate at the smallest opportunity.  While our young group lacks the funds to participate in many civic events, we can always find little opportunities that may have a larger impact. Witnessing my grandson protecting a small fellow creature, watching how the other children changed their interest (save for one) in the bug towards a positive and engaging one, was inspirational to me. That little boy was unconcerned what any of the other children thought – he was going to protect the bug. It was proof positive that education works, and for me, that is all it takes to encourage me to continue on, one opportunity at a time.

Never one to be discouraged by an obstacle, my five-year-old grandson told me yesterday that he is telling his family not to fish. His maternal grandparents like to go fishing, and he knows from reading That’s Why We Don’t Eat Animals, a book by Ruby Roth, that fish are very sensitive and have sensitive mouths. I was amazed at this, because my perception of this little boy was that he kept things compartmentalized, just like the rest of us. I thought his interest in veganism was only allowed to bloom at my house.

A First Vegan Outreach

Whenever he has asked me why his other grandparents fish, I have told him I think they do not know about fish and their feelings. Being asked why other adults do not care about the feelings of other animals always leaves me somewhat perplexed. Why don’t they care? I wish I knew. I hope it is lack of education about their sentience, their will to live, their wish to avoid pain – just like our same wishes for our own lives. My grandson must have decided that his grandparents just needed to hear the truth, and they would stop hurting the fish. I hope that his faith in education is warranted; I hope he continues to be a voice for the animals of this world.  I hope he will not become disappointed in the speciesism of this world and the adults that have been so indoctrinated into it that they do not even realize it exists.

First Steps Toward a Vegan World

My grandson has faith in vegan outreach. At five years old, he has already become an advocate for animals and taken part in vegan education. It gives me hope that such young children can be so outspoken about animals and their feelings. I hope he finds fertile ground to plant those vegan seeds. And I hope that what he learns from me is not confusing or distressing to him. I hope he finds all the peace, health, connection, and love that being a vegan provides. And, I hope there is a world, a vegan world, that will still be here for him as he grows up. There is a lot of work to do to see that happen  – I am glad he is getting an early start on helping us to spread the word!

My five year old grandson is very open to a wide variety of foods, since he is growing up in a bicultural family, eats regularly with people from  Cambodian/ Chinese/ Thai/ Vietnamese/ Vegetarian/ Vegan and SAD (standard American diet) backgrounds. He is usually eager to try things I make for the first time, even if I do not offer them. What I have found works best is to introduce a new food by having it on the table and on my own plate and something familiar on his. Invariably, he will ask to sample the new item and request second helpings. This scenario works very well for us and has helped him increase his interest in all kinds of food without pressure. It allows him to feel in control and makes eating an adventure!

Breaking Tradition, Causing Distress

Recently, though, I had just discovered the beautiful blog Raw on $10 a Day and fell in love with Lisa’s Pad Thai recipe. I made the sauce and let my grandson sample it – he thought it was delicious. But because of my love for this raw dish (and most everything on that particular blog), I broke tradition and created two bowls of the same for lunch. Probably due to his being very, very tired, my little grandson looked at the unknown on his plate and asked, “Can I have something normal, please?”

That sentence has been reverbating in my head for the past few weeks. I know the feeling of wanting something normal. In a world that seems upside down, where corporations are rewarded for exploitation of the environment and those who want to protect it are called eco-terrorists, where animals are tormented and rendered homeless at every turn and those who care about them are considered radical, it is not easy to imagine what true normal would feel like. Sadly, in this world, the ability to detach from reality seems part of the accepted normalcy. But what is normal to a child growing up biracial, bicultural, in love with life, and encountering extreme differences between next door neighbors, both of whom are beloved family members?

Creating the New Normal

Of course, this child was longing for something familiar, something that was safe and did not require any energy adventuring or discovering. Being tired, he just wanted the comfort of the routine, regular, expected food that meant he was where he belonged and all was right with the world. I long for that comfort, that knowledge that all is right with the world, too. But being an adult, it is so apparent to me that all is not right. I have to accept responsibility for changing the world in some way, so that those who abhor exploitation of the natural world will be the new normal, where concern for animal beings and human beings is accepted by all, and where our connection with all forms of life is once again intact and secure. A world that is undergoing stress can be a scary place, but it can also be a place ripe for change. As a vegan, I have chosen a life outside the majority, I have made myself a person that is not considered normal by the bulk of humanity. If I want what I consider a normal world, first I have to help create it. I know that change is coming, but admit that at times, like my grandson, I too grow weary of trying new things and well know that longing: Can I have some normal, please?

For part of Winter Break, we had a 17-1/2 year old visitor from the southern California coastal area. This cousin had last visited us when he was 14 and he was pretty quiet back then. It was with great delight we found ourselves hosting a much more mature, outgoing, confident and healthy nearly 18 year old. Due to graduate in June, he seems to have some reasonable and pragmatic plans for his future. He was instantly adored by his five year old cousin and had ample time to play video games with cousins aged 10 and 15 as well. His stand on my veganism was summed up thus, “I will love anything you make for me.” That is pretty much what the 15 year old believes, too. Both of these young man are very gracious and seem to appreciate every little thing you do for them. They are not as concerned with life philosophy yet, but food matters.

Introducing a Teen to a Plant-Based Diet

Learning from other bloggers and vegans, I decided to go slowly on moving this grandson into a plant-based diet by offering food that was familiar, although veganized.  I had a few vegan snack items on hand and lots of fresh fruits and vegetables.  I would say two of his favorite items were the Vegan Pot Pies (not a scrap was left) and the pizzas made with olives, mushrooms, peppers, marinara and Daiya cheese. Vegan pizza has become a weekly occurence and each one seems to get better — but they are far from perfected yet. Still, this dinner was gobbled down one slice after another, with no complaints. For breakfast, a definite favorite was Orange Chocolate Chip Scones. Living next door to omnivorous relatives, this cousin had plenty of culinary choices.

Luckily, one of his California cousins has become a vegetarian, even though she is only thirteen, so he was familiar with alternative eating styles. The family in which he lives and dines is definitely Middle American in eating habits, with lots of high fat animal products. They are also a very loving and generous family who has taught me many good ideas over the years. When the children were tiny, I always kept bottled water in the car, pillows and blankets on any longer trips (ideas from this family), and this sibling set could be heard giggling in the back and having a lot of fun. This family taught me a great idea – Even/Odd. On even numbered days, little sister got to choose (lunch, cartoon, activity) and on odd days, little brother reigned supreme. This stopped a lot of conflict and helped the children learn to share and take turns. We went places every weekend, from live theater in the park to art festivals and picnics at the beach. We picked our own vegetables and explored the harbor. We all fell in love with our Japanese exchange student, Yukiyo, who returned to live and brought more Japanese students with her. We shared a lot of wonderful experiences.

From Hikes to Flights

I was afforded a few opportunities to really talk to this young man, now over six feet tall and towering over my diminutive frame.  He used to be my little hiking buddy. The very first hike we went on was supposed to be four or five miles but ended up being ten. We both got blisters within a few minutes which I treated with paper towels – all I had on hand. This little guy, only about six or seven at the time, skipped all the way until we reached the stairs in my house. Then he groaned, Ow! ow! my legs! laughing as he climbed up into a good hot bath to soak. By the next month, he was ready to hike once again. His sunny disposition was always appreciated by the adults on the hikes – he even found a real buddy in one midlife gentleman who had never had much of a childhood  and brought the inner child out in him. They would both hike up a hill and slide down in the dirt – THE DIRT! – and laugh all the way down. He listened keenly and learned from the Sierra Club members that knew the trails so well. It was a great way to increase his appreciation for the natural world and to share my love of physical activity.

Dropping him off at the airport, I realized there is no way to know when we will next see him. I am certain we will once again see a different young man before us with maturation becoming more and more in evidence. There was no vegan conversion on this visit, nor did I expect there to be. Still, one hopes the next generation will pause to think about the ways of this world, and consider how they want things to change in their own lifetime.  I am not nearly done working to effect change, but know that this young man is about to launch into adulthood and will select his own priorities. I was happy to hear he is running, something I did every day for an hour or more, until my knees gave out. I hope I have added something to his life and allowed him to think about things a bit differently.

I miss him already.

A recent conversation with my five year old grandson went something like this:

“I’m vegan and I’m not vegan.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, I am vegan at your house, but when I go home….. my parents won’t be vegan.”

“Your father is trying but finds it difficult with all the family having different views. And your mommy said she would eat whatever is delicious.”

“But she won’t. She won’t even try. And I don’t know why my daddy won’t be vegan.”

Not wishing to alienate family members nor confuse my grandson, I found this a troubling conversation. Obviously, this five year old is thinking about the underlying reasons people make the choices they do. He’s figuring out how he fits in. I paused for a minute, then went on….

“Maybe you are always vegan. Being vegan means doing the least harm (ahimsa). It is not really just how you eat. You have no choice what to eat when you are five years old, but if you care about other beings and how they feel, maybe you are still vegan.”

“No, I am only allowed to be vegan here.”

Making Sense in a Nonsensical World

I try to listen and not interpret things too much. For a five year old, most things are pretty cut and dried. One day he had asked me why I care so much about animals. Another day he is admonishing me to be careful when I am removing a bug from the house. Some days he rails against me for not having his favorite nonvegan fare available. For him, it is all part of growing up and trying to make sense of things.

I am still trying to do that even now, as a grandmother. Sometimes it feels like I am trapped in someone else’s nightmare. I live in a nation that seems in love with violence and guns, with politicians even using them in their political ads, with violent rhetoric ongoing without pause, even when another shooting claims the life or lives of innocent people. Veganism is my stand for world peace, and for the animals that live in this world, too — at least for a little while, until they are hunted, or vivisected, or led away to the abattoir. It is an era of denial, whether giving tax breaks to the wealthy while running up massive debts or denying any climate change problems even as the physical evidence mounts.  It is also an era of alienation. People are on edge.

Satyagraha: Holding Firmly and Letting Go

According to Gandhi, a part of Satyagraha (holding firmly to truth) or resistance to injustice means letting go of results, doing what you believe to be right without concern for where that might lead. Gandhi believed in a strong moral force that came from nonviolence, from refusing to participate in systems that were unjust. He also believed that it was important  not only to do no harm to those with whom you are in opposition, but to wish them no ill will. One has to be willing to suffer.

I think I will be able to protect my friend Skitter the cat for her whole life, since she is getting on in years right now. For my grandson, I have less assurance that he will have a safe or peaceful life. The principles of Satyagraha give me some small comfort; I try not to become invested in results. I am working to create a more peaceful world for the beings on earth, but all I can really do is refuse to participate, to the best of my ability, in the injustice that is going on around me. I can try to reach out and educate others. And I can make sure that, at least when he is with me, my grandson always has a place to be vegan. As he ties on his shoes to go out in the world, I am left wondering what kind of world he will inherit. But I know that is not for me to realize. It is enough that today, he is talking about veganism.

Due to a family wedding, I inherited two small non-vegan visitors for the week, ages five and ten. The five year old loves any food you give him; he even loves Daiya cheese. (“DIE yuh, not diet,” he will tell you.) Older brother is more the typical finicky eater – he wrinkles his nose to everything you offer before even tasting. Armed with the information in Myléne Oullet’s recent article, Some Musings on Hosting, I was ready to imitate meals that were familiar and try to keep the meals relatively kid-friendly.

First up was a homemade vegan pizza.  This was a big hit with the little guy, but was only passable to big brother.  Spaghetti is always a favorite, and no one seems to complain about what is or is not in the sauce. Two meals down, five to go.

I made some homemade vegan sausage, which had been a surprising hit when prepared for other family omnivores, but this time used barbecue sauce and offered Mac ‘N Gees, always popular with little brother.  That meal was not moving off the plates of big brother until I reminded him: no clean plate, no dessert.  He loves homemade vegan ice cream, so with a little salt and pepper, the entire plate appeared to be licked clean in no time. Vegan quesadillas are a regular and those are well received; the recipe I use is vegan-cheese-free, but you can always add a little some to give that gooey feel to the meal.  Tacos are usually well accepted, too – bowls of chopped lettuce, grated veggies, vegan crumbles, salsa, and a little Daiya cheese make this only a little different than what is served at home. The most significant difference, of course, is that these meals are cruelty-free, or as cruelty-free as I know how to make them.

I have heard that when preparing meals for omnivores, add extra salt and fat (Earth Balance Organic?) to mimic familiar tastes from over-processed foods.  Big brother likes raw vegetables, but a pleasant surprise was when little brother discovered lightly cooked broccoli – he ate a triple serving and was asking for more vegetables all week! He asks for Earth Balance by name and loves most anything that has that spread or melted over it.

Breakfasts needed to be made quickly so we could scoot off to school. Orange-banana smoothies, vegan waffles, oatmeal, scones, soy yogurt and fresh fruit kept tummies full enough to last until lunch time.

Lessons Learned In the Feeding  and Care of Young Non-Vegans

Some of what I learned during this week:

• Pizza – best to heat the crust and topping a bit before adding the Daiya cheese – it tends to brown rather quickly. Live and learn. Little brother can eat most of a pizza by himself!  Always make two  - extras will be eaten the next   day or may be frozen.Favorite crust recipes are from Barnard and Webb’s Get Healthy, Go Vegan cookbook, and Goudreau’s Vegan Table. Both are excellent.

• Having the ice cream, which is a special treat for older brother, helped him (along with salt and pepper) get through the meals he found too alien. Barbecue sauce didn’t hurt, either.

• Reading a Dr. Seuss book (Oh Say Can You Say) on tongue twisters (no turning the page until mouths were full) helped make breakfast fun and kept the focus on laughing while encouraging those bites, too. Soon they were eager to get to the table to see if I would make mistakes. Happily, I usually do. Every slip of the tongue unleashed gales of laughter – such easy entertainment!

• Books to the rescue again – each selected a book before bedtime and both seemed to love the reading time equally. It is always a ritual are our house to read before bedtime.  No reading until every tooth has been brushed, baths taken, and jammies worn.  There was no resistance to bedtime.

• Options are good, but not too many. I often made two or more vegetables and they could select what they wanted. Sometimes the choices were surprising. Dessert choices were often fresh sliced apples or persimmons.

I will keep kid-testing more new vegan recipes and continue to enlarge my recipe file. The older boy requested another pizza, despite his seeming disdain. But the biggest success of the week was finding out that big brother, who was taught to step on bugs, now saves them and carefully takes them outdoors. Skitter the Cat actually crawled up on big brother’s lap at one point – a real landmark for her and for him, too. After all, veganism is not about diet — and they are learning the important part.

Every night, millions of children are called to the dinner table to eat dead animals, their body parts, and their secretions. Most of those children have no idea what has been done to these animals, though older children at least have some idea that animals are killed for food. Some do not think about it, a few are a bothered by it but shut it out of their minds (with much cultural encouragement). If a young child asks why we eat animals, they are quickly set onto another topic.  Everything in the macro-culture reinforces the normalcy of eating animals. There are “Got Milk?” posters in the schools. There are advertisements on television and fast food gimmicks that assault kids regularly.  Even their cartoons are filled with food imagery — Sponge Bob and Crabby Patties are a happy twosome. When I am present and a child asks those questions, I often get that look, warning me not to answer. It is as if really discovering what is on the dinner table is forbidden; we all know but no one is willing to really talk about it. The truth is that all too often, it is who is for dinner, not what.

Denial at the Dinner Table and In the Military Maintains the Status Quo

In the military, where homosexuals have served with honor for decades, it serves the status quo to allow them to serve but to deny recognition of who they are — that homosexuals are honorable members of the armed services — because to admit who they are would challenge members of the public who are uncomfortable with that reality. The animals that are to be killed that day, and the next, and the next, must not be seen; the denial at the dinner table must exist for the status quo to be effective in keeping a lid on reality. What’s for dinner? Don’t ask, don’t tell.

Heterosexism, speciesism, racism, misogyny and racial intolerance all share traits in common:

1. There is a separation from the designated group of Other.
2. There is a reduction in value assigned to the designated group of Other.
3. There is a fear of the designated group of Other or what they represent.
4. There is disparagement of the designated group of Other that causes compartmentalization.
5. There is a use of demeaning terms and stereotypes onto the group of Other.

When I was in graduate school, we were shown an entire film that documented the way African Americans were seen in earlier times. It was horribly demeaning, with bizarre caricatures, cartoons, drawings and cruel imagery. It devastated me to know that adults could behave so stupidly and so cruelly to other beings; it impacted me viscerally. That racism met all five criteria, yet it is still quizzical to me that human beings can so exploit other beings and then vilify those very beings. Who has the right to outrage here? Of course, I realize the disparagement allows those who perpetrate crimes of bondage against another group to rationalize their behavior in some way. Yet here we are, once again denying an entire group of citizens their civil rights due to prejudice and misunderstanding, while using them in ways that endanger their very lives as they serve us  in the twenty-first century. And the speciesist talk about animals goes on so continually it is hard not to notice how we refuse to acknowledge the individuality of animals, too — another group denied personhood and disallowed into the moral community.

Fighting to Reboard the Titanic

It is like we are swimming to get back on board the Titanic even as the hull is beginning to disappear in the ocean.  But those parties! Those elegant dining events! We cling to a past this is already lost. I see some of us swimming for dear life to get back on the sinking ship, fearing the loss it represents and unwilling to accept the inevitability of change. Yes, the water might be cold for awhile but getting off the sinking ship is the only way to save our hides. Our “isms” aren’t working very well for us, yet we cling to them for dear life. We desperately need the very personnel in the military that we are expelling, and we are expelling some of the very best. Recent polls show that most Americans want DADT repealed, but some of the Old Guard are too prejudiced to realize what is going on in the world around them; they would not even let it be discussed in Congress. In an era of crass fear-mongering and the destruction it has wrought, it is time to start noticing the downward trend of the ship we once believed in and start looking for alternatives. Reality is a good starting point.

So here we are, refusing to see the animals we exploit, refusing to talk about the reality of their lives, refusing to acknowledge anything that might cause us to have to change from traditional patterns of behavior. Every night, we subject our children to the lies about their food, silent lies that omit the truth. It is past time to allow people to tell the truth. And for the animals, who have no voice, it is imperative that animal advocates tell their truth loud and long. Let’s make Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell be a thing of the past for all of us, both human and nonhuman animals. There are lives that depend upon us for justice.

Youth Empowered Action (YEA) summer camp, a vegan camping experience that empowers youth leadership by developing skills and self-confidence, is planning for an amazing summer program for the lucky youth that are able to attend the camp. Is your son or daughter a passionate advocate for recyling, vegetarianism, or animal rights?  Would you like to help them channel that passion into positive action and empowerment? Or perhaps you just want to see your favorite teen have a positive experience that will increase confidence, give them a chance to meet other young potential leaders and changemakers, and keep them active and healthy.  There are already specialized camps for kids who want to lose weight, play basketball, or want to advance musical skills. But what about the idealist in your life? What about kids who want to make a difference in the world? Where is there for young leaders who want to address global warming, homelessness or homophobia?

Where: Santa Cruz, California

Where: Portland, OR

What to Expect at YEA Camp

To find out more about YEA Camp, or to apply or donate to the program, visit www.yeacamp.org

Initial season of YEA camp profiled on Veganacious

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My four year old grandson told me, “I am a vegan boy.” He understands a little bit about veganism; I bought him Ruby Roth’s book, That’s Why We Don’t Eat Animals, and I read it to him when asks me to read it.  He told me yesterday that, “my parents eat animal projects.”  I knew he meant products; his mum told him that “the animals feed us.”  (Not willingly, though.) He is trying to make sense of the difference in how I eat and how the rest of his family eats.  Sometimes, he is peeved with me, for not buying him the cheese he wants.  Other times, he is peeved with his parents, because he senses their choices are harming animals. He happily eats vegan food and loves the animals he has come to know, but he eats what is put before him at preschool and at home. I do not proselytize, but I do answer his questions as honestly and briefly as I am able.  I think most children would be appalled at what is done to animals if they knew. He only knows a little but it does have him thinking. It has me thinking, too.

Trying to be an ethical vegan grandmother is not an easy task.  He calls me Bubba, and recently decided that only Bubbas are vegan.  That seemed to settle it, for a while at least. I have told him that when he is older, he can decide how to eat for himself, but for now, he needs to eat what his parents provide for him.  Luckily his father requested a vegan cookbook for Christmas and he is on soymilk, not cow’s milk. His father tries some of my vegan recipes; he is one of my tasters and is eating more vegan meals than omnivore meals.  His father has been an animal lover most of his life and used to volunteer at the animal shelter. Like many Americans, he is unable to connect his consumer choices with his view of caring for animals. My grandson, though, is already questioning some of the hypocrisy in the adults around him, including me.  Young children often see so clearly what the rest of us just accept.

His older brother is nine and does not spend as much time with me. His culinary tastes are distinctly more limited, and he balks at vegan fare, except banana bread, strawberry ice cream, and a few other acceptable items like spaghetti and noodles. He is unwilling to try new foods, something his parents are working on at the moment to increase his culinary parameters. His little brother recently said to him, “You are not a vegan boy,” to which the elder said, “Neither are you.”  I can only hope that being an out and proud vegan will continue when he can make those choices for himself.  And I hope that the vegan world is there for him to appreciate, too.

On the evening of the Fall Festival at my grandson’s preschool, I had volunteered to work to help make the evening a success.  I arrived early as requested and began moving all the little toys and games to the side, disassembling some and preparing space for the games to follow. After getting the room ready, a school official told me that the table on the side of the room was for Chick-Fil-A(TM), who would be arriving soon. When I first heard that a corporate meat-monger would be sharing the space with me, I tried to think how I could make this a positive experience. But as the crew began arriving, complete with sodas and dismembered animal parts, I knew it would never fly. I was angry. Angry that a private preschool would be allowing these corporate shills into the festivities (they were just young kids in actuality).  I was angry that schools let these kinds of folks promote their poisonous product to such very young children and their families, when childhood diabetes and obesity have become epidemic.  I asked if I could swith locations with someone else, letting them know I was vegan and did not want to be in the space with people promoting meat. I was aware that these corporations were infiltrating the public schools, which I consider unethical and ghastly, but to try to hook the kids when they are so tiny, and in a private school at that – disgusting!

I was moved to the next room, which was actually part of the same room with a counter in between. I could see the Chick-Fil-A(TM) cow was quite uncomfortable, couldn’t talk, and was having difficulty seeing. The cow began walking the hallways to promote their product- dead chickens.  In my room, meanwhile, the tiny tots were playing with plastic duckies in water and having a great time.  Most of the kids wanted the duckies, but the game was to change them in for candy, The school is a fabulous preschool; they teach the very young children manners, lovely songs, and educate them in so many positive ways. My grandson, who just turned 4, can write his own name, knows all the colors in Spanish and English, says the pledge of allegiance, knows all the days of the weeks and the months of the year.

The energy in the school is bright and cheerful; they offer outdoor programs and have a wonderful park-like play area.  I took my grandson to several schools; this is the only one where he wanted me to leave him. His teacher is wonderful; intelligent, kind, capable, with a presence that maintains an orderly classroom yet keeps the kids all loving her and feeling safe. But the silly costumed cow was so disrespectful to the reality of animal lives, the idea of one species promoting killing of another species as a joke…..to babies — it was too much for this vegan.  I know the other people at the school now think I am completely whacked, but that is okay.  At least they had to think about what they are doing.  The cows encouraging people to eat chicken…..those ads really gross me out. It is incredible to me that anyone could find them cute and clever, but evidently it has been a tremendously effective ad campaign.  Shows how far we have slid down, down, down into detachment from reality.  A letter to the school, therefore, was sent:

Dear Children’s Preschool:*

I want to thank you for the wonderful staff and environment you create for my grandson and all the other children.  The value is inestimable in helping these kids get a positive step forward in learning independence and preparing for their academic futures.  Miss M, my grandson’s teacher, is a wonderful and intelligent woman who actively supports the children’s growth yet remains a warm and comforting presence.  I love the staff and the facilities and am very grateful that such an excellent school is nearby so my grandson can have a positive experience.  I appreciate the camera program, which allows his family to see how he is going during the day, too.  That kind of open information helps us all rest assured that the best possible care is being given to our child.

At the recent Fall Festival, I volunteered to work at one of the games and was put in a room that was to be shared with Chick-Fil-A(TM).  I was horrified to think that such an unhealthy product would be marketed to such young children.  Your other corporate connection, McDonalds, is also known for harming the health and well-being of children, although your purpose was to support Ronald McDonald House, which in turn reportedly aids children and their families; you were not promoting their foods directly.  Chick-Fil-A(TM)’s purpose was clear – to advertise their product at an early age in the schools to get as many kids and their families patronizing their restaurants as possible. With juvenile diabetes and obesity on the rise, promoting the fast-food industry would seem antithetical to a school dedicated to helping young children.

While it was a time for dressing up in costumes, the absurdity of an adult-sized cow promoting killing and dismembering chickens was too offensive not to mention.  The reality for both the animals and the humans that consume them is far from amusing.  The hours of suffering confinement, the cruelty of slaughter, the chemicals they are given to the animals to prevent disease, the hormones fed to the animals, the grinding up of dead animals and feeding them to other animals (mad cow disease), the ingestion of feces and disease, the recent undercover videos of newborn male chicks being ground up alive, the cost to the planet — none of these are amusing.  But to liken it to a joke, to promote one of the worst corporate offenders in disrespecting animal life, to allow them access to our young children – it is over the top in my estimation. I would like to protest.

And I have a question — what does Children’s Preschool gain from giving this corporation access to the children?  Because the cost to American children who are raised on fast-food is horrific.

I hope you will reconsider corporate ties to the fast food industry.  You are a much better facility and deserve much healthier connections; and more importantly, our young children deserve much better, too.

Sincerely,

Barbara DeGrande, MFT

Grandparent

Child and Animal Advocate

It is disappointing that the school never responded to my letter.  But at least they had to read it, and hopefully think about it, even if momentarily.  The director has been decidedly cooler towards me.  But still, it is important to voice wherever and whenever we can, to bring to mind the thoughtless acts of cruelty and abuse in which we participate so willingly, so mindlessly. If I prove to be an irritant to anyone participating in these acts, so be it.  I do not want cows in my grandson’s classroom.

*fictitious name