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.