The Vegan Community Has a Problem

I was vegan for five years. I say was because over the course of the last two years I’ve strayed. It 
took time and a lot of guilt but I’m finally at a place where I can accept that I’m vegetarian and not 
vegan. Now, many people, primarily vegans, will read that and nothing else here and have an opinion 
about this post. But try to hear me out. I’ve seen and experienced these things and there is a systemic 
problem in the vegan community that needs to be addressed.

To be fair, I’ll talk a bit about why I’m no longer vegan. It’s complicated and hard to put into words, but 
I’ll do my best. First of all, the last two years have been incredibly difficult. Despite meeting my lovely 
and generous boyfriend who I’ve been living with (thankfully), dropping out of school, moving to a new 
place with basically no support system, my dog dying, and having a difficult time holding down a job 
was a terrible strain on my mental health. Further, the fact that I was cycling through employment 
meant that I rarely had very much money to do or buy much. It’s not like I was going from high paying 
job to high paying job either; I worked at nonprofits and Starbucks. Second, like I mentioned, I met my 
boyfriend who I have been living with through this time and he is not vegan. He’s not even a 
vegetarian, though I do all the cooking so he is at home for the most part. When you’re in a 
relationship with someone for longer than six months, you learn to make sacrifices. I’m sure he would 
prefer to eat meat more but he’s made that sacrifice for me. I would love to have a partner with a 
similar diet to mine, but at the end of the day I don’t and I had to make this sacrifice for him. I’m 
hesitant to write this because I know many online vegans who will read what I just wrote and ignore 
everything else and think I compromised my values for some guy. That’s not how it is, it’s much more 
complicated than that, but I can’t stop your from having your opinion so, there it is for you to feast on.

Also to be fair (to myself this time), I will explain my lifestyle now. Veganism is an ethical stance 
beyond diet and once vegan always a little bit vegan. I can’t unsee what I’ve seen, I can’t unfeel what 
I’ve felt. But I get really low blood sugar and have to eat regularly and when I go to a coffee shop I will 
get a pastry without worrying if it has milk or eggs in it. When I cook, I still cook mostly vegan but 
sometimes I add cheese. It started when my boyfriend’s grandmother passed away and I wanted to 
make him something nice, which then carried over to other parts of my cooking. However, I prefer 
vegan food. Dairy ricotta is bullshit compared to vegan ricotta. Just saying.

Outside food, I will only buy ethical products that are animal free and have not been tested on 
animals. This is how my journey began, after all. But I can’t afford to go to Lush to get the tiniest 
mascara ever for $50 anymore, so I buy the most ethical makeup I can find at the supermarket. It’s 
probably not vegan but since I’m not vegan anymore…

With that said, I hope it’s clear that I highly respect the lifestyle and I try to adhere to it when I can. I 
highly respect individual vegans. In fact, most vegans I’ve met in person have been incredibly lovely 
people, but then again I was vegan at the time so there was a bias toward me inherently. All this to 
say, vegans as a whole are very, very judgmental people. While individual vegans might be lovely, the 
community at large is and encourages judgement toward nonvegans, including vegetarians, vegan 
allies, and other vegans who have slipped up or whose ethics dictate behaviors that vary from 
“expected” vegan behaviors.

I first started thinking about this when I was on Twitter and an apparently popular vegan personality 
(who I had never heard of) tweeted that she has decided to no longer call herself vegan because of 
the reaction she got from the community over something very minor, though I don’t remember what it 
was. I read the comments. People on there were nothing short of cruel to this young woman who is 
doing her best to make the world a better place for people and animals. This was during my transition 
phase, but it emboldened me. That tweet and more so the replies encouraged me to no longer identify 
as vegan. What a huge relief. I hated calling myself vegan even when I was one and this one tweet 
showed me everything. It showed me why I hated saying I was vegan, why I hated being called out as 
vegan, why I was embarrassed to be associated with the word at all. It really shined a light on the 
whole problem.

I then looked back on all the groups I have been in over the years, like on Facebook or in person, and 
I started to see a troubling pattern. This one Facebook group in particular was very bad. It’s called 
Vegan Humor and it was recommended I join it by another vegan to help me when I was feeling 
overwhelmed by the enormity of the suffering animals go through. This group posts usually hateful 
joke images about how stupid everyone who isn’t vegan is, including vegetarians and poor people. 
These posts always made me uncomfortable but I figured it’s punching up, right? I mean, vegans are 
a minority so it must be! Looking back, however, and given the life I’ve lived and the circumstances 
I’ve dealt with, I can now look back and see these posts as being at most cruel and harmful and at 
least lazy and embarrassing. Sometimes stereotypes are true, unfortunately, and now that my mental 
block is gone I can see that the judgmental vegan stereotype is actually based on reality.

I get it. The enormity of the suffering of animals is very hard to deal with for the generally empathetic 
and kind people who want to do better by their world. It’s easy to fall into the trap of hating others for 
not wanting to do better, too. But the reality is being vegan can be and is expensive. No, I don’t want 
to eat beans and rice for every meal because guess what? When I was vegan I wasn’t super rich 
either and I did eat beans and rice for every meal sometimes. I do not want to go back to that life. The 
reality is some people, the stupid carnivores, live in food deserts and buy all their groceries at 
convenience stores. The reality is that if you’re struggling to make ends meet by working two or three 
jobs to pay for medicine, rent, and food for your children and for yourself and if you live in a food 
desert and if your boss sexually harasses you or generally treats you like shit and you can’t catch a 
break and if one of your children is sick and you’re just stressed out all the time, no, being vegan isn’t 
at the top of your list. The posts on Vegan Humor and other groups and sites depict all people as 
terrible if they aren’t vegan. Obviously, I think that’s problematic and just plain wrong.

I’m privileged in that I live in one of the most vegan friendly cities in the country. I would love to be 
able to afford to go to a vegan restaurant! If I could afford it, I would only go to vegan coffee shops. If 
I could afford it, I would buy vegan products at the grocery store, of which there are many and they 
are fully stocked. But I just can’t. I don’t think this makes me a terrible person. That is, unless you 
have the opinion that poor people are being punished by God. Which I don’t.

Outside of the online space, when vegans get together, there is a hateful bias against nonvegans. I 
can’t remember specific comments off the top of my head, but it’s there.

I know this because I felt this, too. I used to be a vegan hardliner and secretly judge my nonvegan 
friends. I did have conversations with other vegans about how it’s bullshit that being vegan is 
expensive because beans and rice. But guess what. Being vegan is expensive in the current capitalist 
society we live in. It is an utter privilege to be vegan in the United States.

There are two things I would recommend the vegan community do if vegans want people to go vegan. 
First, drop the judgmental bullshit. It’s a privilege. You’re privileged. Get over it.

Second, fight against the system that has created the problem that in order to be vegan you must be 
privileged. This is not advice for the seriously “woke” vegans who already know this because I know 
you’re out there and I see you. Much respect. This is advice for the average vegan. Capitalism and 
corporate socialism, the economic systems that run this country, created an environment where the 
masses are required to eat meat, dairy, and eggs in order to survive. Government sponsored 
advertising campaigns have convinced the masses that in order to be healthy they need to eat meat, 
dairy, and eggs. Government sponsored meat, dairy, and egg campaigns have increased the amount 
of, for example, cheese in almost all foods. The government subsidizes meat, dairy, and eggs to 
create an economy where it’s cheaper to by dairy milk than it is to buy but milks, for example. Are 
you getting the trend here? The problem isn’t that people are stupid and hypocritical, the problem is 
that the government, backed by these nonvegan industries, has created a multi billion dollar incentive 
for the average person to not be vegan. Take all this and add that food stamps barely cover a month’s 
worth of food. Add that healthcare is so expensive. Add that the poverty line is so low and hasn’t 
caught up to the times that you basically have to be homeless to qualify for food stamps and Medicaid.

Vegans are so ethical and empathetic and compassionate. It’s just that from what I’ve seen being in 
vegan spaces, that ethicality, empathy, and compassion doesn’t carry over to people, too. I think the 
community can do better and should.

#NotAllVegans

Rachel Dolezal

I know this controversy was a few years ago, but the documentary The Rachel Divide came to Netflix and I have thoughts.

The documentary classily covers both sides.  Rachel Dolezal is obviously a controversial figure, a white woman who identifies as a Black woman.  But this story is more complicated than that.  I didn't follow the controversy closely when it happened but the Rachel Divide exposed me to her reality in a way I could identify with.  Having had a not-so-great childhood myself (given, probably not as bad as hers), I could see why someone in her position would want to distance herself, her entire self, from everything her parents represent.  Whiteness, apparently, chief among them.

I wondered why I didn't do something drastic like this.  I felt unloved by my parents, I distanced myself from things I felt represented them, and I tried to find a movement for empowerment.  Instead of focusing on race, I focused on Catholicism, conservative political beliefs, and feminism, respectively.  I support the movement for Black lives and Black empowerment, but I've always recognized that I'm not Black and that struggle is not (necessarily) my struggle (though, no one is free when one is oppressed).

I do find the comparisons between "transblack" and transgender incredibly problematic.  First, it's important that I clarify: I don't believe in the concept of "transblack."  But the way people were trying to discredit Rachel Dolezal by saying that she could never be Black because she was raised white is definitely not the way to go about it.  While there is a problem with the comparisons between these concepts, the comparison exists.  Saying, "You can't be Black because you didn't struggle as a Black person growing up," is scarily similar to: "You can't be a woman because you didn't struggle as a woman growing up." This argument against "transblack" is the argument against transgender women among white feminists who are awful.  I understand the urge to say she can't be Black because she can't understand the struggle in a real way.  But her identifying as Black does not take anything away from Black peoples' identity.  This controversy did harm the Black community in Spokane and maybe even generally, but she could never take away the Black person's identity and she can never change what it means to be Black.

There is an argument against the "transblack" identity that holds water, and might be the only argument.  It's the only argument I can reason out, anyway.

Being able to be "transracial" is in itself white privilege and is therefore racist.

Rachel Dolezal is the epitome of white privilege.  There are "passing" people of color, but it's the one drop rule, isn't it?  In this culture, you could look white, feel white, live as a white person, but as soon as anyone finds that your great grandfather was Black, you become Black, too.

Yes, race is a social construct.  Obviously.  But this does not excuse her behavior.  If we lived in a society where race really didn't matter, where institutional racism didn't exist, then maybe she could do what she's done.  But we don't live in that society.  Race is a primary factor for the oppression of non-white communities in the United States and elsewhere.

In short, Rachel Dolezal is pretty racist, but the documentary I think showed that she isn't meaning to be.  It humanizes her.  Which is in itself pretty complicated.  No person is either all good or all bad, and it could be the combination of those two sides that make us who we are (thank you Star Trek), and humanizing a person isn't the problem.  The problem could be when the humanization crosses over into explaining her behavior away.  If not for the last scene, I would say this documentary was in danger of doing that.  Thank goodness for the last scene, then.

Hidden Disability and Ableism

Definition of disability - a physical, mental, cognitive, or developmental condition that imparis, interferes with, or limits a person's ability to engage in certain tasks or actions or participate in typical daily activities and interaction.

I was a normal kid.  I played in the snow, wearing a snow suit or those snow overalls and a big jacket and gloves.  Or without gloves.  When you're a kid, little things like freezing cold weather doesn't so much get to you.  Or at least, it didn't get to me.  I took skiing lessons, I went sledding, I made snowmen.  I also drank cold cans of cokes, I played with ice, I got cuts on my hands and fingers and everything was fine.  My body worked.

Early in high school I started snowboarding.  I got a snowboard for Christmas and my friends and I went down the bunny hill until we stopped falling and then we went down the rest of the mountain.  I never learned how to carve; I stayed heal-edge the whole way down, but I did do a jump once!  One time we were on a pretty steep trail and I somehow got turned around and went really fast backward down the hill and almost went over an edge.  My memory tells me is was a sharp cutoff and I would have landed pretty far down, but if that were true I doubt I would have been on that trail.  We never went on the black diamond trails.  But everything was fine and my body worked.

Something changed later on in high school, though.  My hands started changing color when it was cold out or when I was stressed.  It wasn't significant at first, just blue or purple fingers and toes, but things were fine and my body worked.  Then it wasn't and it didn't.  My fingers and toes started turning white.  It started to hurt when they would warm up.  Bad.  One winter right after this started happening I tried to go snowboarding.  After one run down the bunny hill, I spent the rest of the day in the lodge, trying to warm up my hands, trying not to cry from the pain, alone.  I had all the right gear, or so I thought.  I had no idea what was happening to me.  That's when I went to the doctor.

I have an autoimmune disorder called Mixed Connective Tissue Disease.  It's a disorder closely related to Lupus, the most famous of all the autoimmune disorders, but it's not Lupus.  Mixed Connective Tissue Disease (MCTD) is actually kind of a combination of Lupus, an autoimmune disorder called systemic sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis, and myositis.  It's called an overlap syndrome because it has features of all of these other disorders.  Neat!

One of the symptoms I have is called Raynaud's phenomenon, where when my fingers, hands, toes, and feet get cold (or when I get stressed emotionally), the capillaries (the tiny veins at your extremities) constrict, which cuts off blood flow.  When my extremities warm up it is incredibly painful to an extent I don't know how to explain.  Yes, it is sort of like when your foot falls asleep.  Like that, but maybe ten million times worse?  Blood also doesn't really stay in my hands easily.  I've been experiencing Raynaud's for so long and it's a progressive disorder, that my hands are always cold at least and pressure or vibration can aggravate the Raynaud's.

I also am at a higher risk for organ failure, generally.  In fact, most deaths of those with MCTD are from heart failure due to high blood pressure, but I have low blood pressure so everything is fine.  I'm fine.  It's fine.

Actually, really, I don't know if everything is fine.  I don't know the condition of my heart and lungs.  I should probably go to the doctor, but who has the time, money, or emotional stability to see a doctor nowadays?

The truth is, I've had to confront my own mortality in a way that most people my age have never had to confront until they're much older.  I spent my late teens and all of my twenties grappling with the fact that I will die from this.  It will only get worse.  I likely will not live to a ripe old age, and if I do I may not be able to hear anything or digest food normally.  All of my physical health problems are related to my disease, and I have and have had a lot of physical health problems.

But, do I have a disability?

I never considered my condition to be a disability.  It's something I never talked about, only brought up if someone asked (or in the case of my brother's ex-girlfriend, screamed) about my hands turning white.  But generally, people don't say anything or think it's paint or chalk.  I went about my life doing things I could do, not doing things I couldn't do, and I never used it as an excuse to not do something, even when I probably should have.  I never talked about it and I tried not to think about it.  Because it was fine, after all.

The thing is, though, I might have a disability.  I have a physical condition that impairs, interferes, and limits my ability to engage in certain tasks or actions or participate in typical daily activities.  That might be pretty close to the definition, I think...

And it's not just snowboarding or playing in the snow or with ice or holding cold cans of coke.  It's not just that part of the reason I quit one of my old jobs was because I regularly had to be outside in cold temperatures or that I decided not to move to Chicago after all because of the weather.  The thing is, I really can't do certain things.  I do help my boyfriend carry heavy furniture, for example, but my hands are in excruciating pain for 30+ minutes afterward.  I do turn on my car in the morning and drive to work, but it takes a while for the heat to warm up and the whole time I can't feel my hands or if I can, it's because they're in pain.  I've been hospitalized due to my condition and now I have a fear of needles I never had before.  

The truth is, I'm terrified.  I'm terrified when my chest hurts or I cough too much or my finger hurts like I have a cut but I see nothing or if I do have a cut and I think it'll get infected or if I have an infected cut and I think I'll eventually get a bone infection or if I do get a bone infection that I'll have to be hospitalized or if I'm hospitalized I'll have to get a pick line or if I get a pick line I'll have a bad reaction to every single antibiotic they give me or if I do have a bad reaction I'll have to get surgery...  You get it. 

The first time I let someone see me warm up my hands with hot water was really emotionally intense because warming up my hands with hot water is very private for me.  I've only cried over my condition in front of exactly one person.  On the outside, I look like a able-bodied person.  I don't continue to snowboard or go running when it's cold out, it seems, because I'm lazy.  In fact, I've had people call me lazy for that very reason!  All this time, I'd rather people call me lazy than accept that I might have a disability.

I am not disabled.  But I do have a disability and it's taken me a little over ten years to admit it.

Knowing what I know about my body and experiencing what I experience with my body is scary.  And I'm afraid.  But I'm not asking for sympathy.  That's not what this is about.  This is partly for me to process this, but also...

Definition of ableism - discrimination or prejudice against individuals with disabilities

The ultimate reason for this post is ableism.  I had never experienced it before because I never talk about my disability.  I'm hidden and I've definitely been grateful for that for a long time.  But is this a blessing or a curse?

If I were in a wheelchair this past ten plus years, there would be no question that I have a physical condition that interferes with my ability to perform certain tasks.  People would treat me accordingly, or with prejudice, but people would know.  As it is now, I look like a normy.

And I think this hidden disability thing is something people without hidden disabilities don't understand - it IS a disability.  It's scary but it's a part of my life.  No, it's more than that; it's a part of who I am as a person.

Someone I was friends with on Facebook recently posted an update on her medical issues.  This was a normal occurrence, so I almost scrolled by it, but eventually decided to see how she was doing.  She was doing fine, this and that, but the end of the post really irked me.  Here, I quote,

What *does* worry me is when she noticed my toes turning purple.  She said it's a sign of Reynaud's [sic] disease, which in and of itself isn't a big deal.  I just have to keep my feet warm.  What is a big deal, is that it's a sign of lupus.  So I'll know in a week whether this is an endocrine issue or an autoimmune issue.  I really hope it's the former...

At first I tried to be friendly and said that she would be fine because I've had a disease like Lupus for years and remember how fine I am?  But then I started thinking about it and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I said something despite all my instincts, I called her out.

For a few years now, it's been a normal occurrence in liberal communities to remind people that if you're called out on your shit, be it racism, sexism, ableism, what have you, you say thank you, apologize, and let that be that.  So, since I'm liberal and she's liberal I just assumed that's what would happen and everything would be fine.  Well, you know what they say about assuming things.

I told her her post "kind of" pissed me off and that she was being ableist.  She did not take it well.  I thought maybe she didn't see how she was being ableist, so I broke it down for her.  She did not take that well either and started insulting me.  Well, I lost it and said some stuff I shouldn't have said and ended it by saying, "Get over yourself.  I'm out."  And I unfriended her.  Needless to say, it did not go well.  But what does need to be said is that she was wrong and just because my disability is hidden (most of the time) does not mean it doesn't exist.  I don't think she got that.

If you don't see how what she said was ableist, and this is what I said to her, think about it this way.  If you spent your whole life in a wheelchair because of some sort of genetic disease or something, you have to deal with that every day of your life, it scares you, and it's a part of you, and then one day you see someone post about how "worrying" it is that it might happen to them, implying that it's a really bad thing, wouldn't you consider that to be ableist?  I would.

But that's not the only problem and that's not the only way this was ableist.  The thing is, if you use someone else's life experience to scare your friends into being concerned about you, that's ableism.  And make no mistake, the only reason to post something like this on Facebook is to get pity and scare-concern from friends.  And make no mistake, too, she was using my experience to get that pity and scare-concern.  Not only is that fucked up on it's face, but she objectified my condition and by extension, me.  She did the opposite of fetishize it, but I'm not sure that word exists.  She did revile and deride in my condition's face and in extension, mine.

I'm not perfect.  I'm sure I've said and done things I shouldn't have said and done to offend someone.  In fact, I can think of a time that happened!  And you know what I did?  I apologized and listened.

From now on, let's apologize and listen.  It's the only way we learn.

This is the first instance I can remember where I read something and it read like ableist discrimination against me from someone I know.  That's why I've talked about it so much here.  I'm sure it won't be the last time something like this will happen and it probably wasn't the first.

At least I learned something important about myself.  I've learned that I have a disability and I've always considered it to be one on some level.  I'm learning to be ok with it, but since it's a progressive disease, it doesn't get easier over time.  It gets harder.

Here's the lesson: Yes, it's scary, but it's not yours.

Growing Up Bisexual

As a cis-gender, bisexual woman, my experience of my sexuality has always been complicated.  I alternatively thought I was straight and gay growing up.  I remember the fear of feeling gay and the relief of feeling straight.  It took me a long time before I realized I was, in a way, both and neither.

The structure of our society dictates that one must choose a side, though.  During middle school, I knew girls who identified as bisexual, but behind their backs the other kids would call them sluts.  I didn't think I was a slut, so I must have been straight.  I thought this all the while having a crush on my best friend, a girl.  I didn't know it at the time, but it was the first real crush I'd ever had beyond randomly choosing someone to "like" because everyone else had crushes, why didn't I?  But growing up Catholic meant that I couldn't be gay, I must be straight, so I was. 

I continued to ignore these feelings throughout most of high school.  I had crushes on boys outwardly and girls inwardly.  I eventually ended up breaking up with this best friend because when you stop being friends with someone you have a crush on, it's not just growing apart.  It's a break up.  I dated a guy my last two years of high school, thinking, "thank God I'm straight." 

I didn't admit to myself that I had these feelings until college, but I was still so afraid of them I cried thinking about it regularly.  I called myself bisexual to my friends, but I never really believed it.  I thought I was secretly gay and was just using bisexuality as a transition into homosexuality, because as I learned in middle school, bisexuality doesn't exist.  Calling girls who identify as bisexual sluts in middle school, Catholicism, having a boyfriend in high school erased bisexuality for me.  I had to choose between gay and straight, and I chose both during different points in my life.  During college, I was sure I was gay, I just didn't want anyone to know it yet.

I eventually came out to my family as a gay woman.  This came years after college, years after living as a gay woman.  The extent of which I lived as a gay woman was to call myself gay to friends and on dating websites and MeetUp.com.  I made gay friends.  I was single and gay and when same-sex marriage became legal, it was time for my family to know.  One of my brothers called me when he got my letter and we had a long conversation; the best conversation I had had with him that I can remember.  But that was it.  One of my sisters mentioned it once when I started dating my current boyfriend ("But I thought you were gay?") but otherwise, it hasn't been mentioned.  Honestly, I believe my mother threw away the letter without telling my dad and was relieved when I met my boyfriend.

Meeting him was hard.  At this point I knew sexuality is fluid, but I still identified as gay.  The letter I sent to each of my family members was out there.  Now, I had to be gay because I had a great conversation with my brother!  There's no way they would understand!  They would think, I was sure, that I was lying to get a rise out of them and I wouldn't doubt some of them still think that.  But I met him and we fell in love quickly and that was that.  I had to have the hard conversation that I'm actually bisexual, I guess.  But I grew up not believing bisexuality existed, why would my family believe that I am?  Women who say they are bisexual are confused or are sluts.

However, after having identified as gay for so long, I knew I wasn't straight.  There was no going back at this point just because I was with a man.  When I started dating him, a little over a year and a half ago, that's when I finally accepted my sexuality as a bisexual woman.  I am not straight, though most people think I am.  I am not gay, though privately I still feel that way.  I am both and I am neither.

As a cis-gender, bisexual woman, my experience of my sexuality has always been complicated.  I haven't ever felt there was a place for me in the conversation.  Sure, the "B" in LGBTQ+ stands for bisexual, but we are silenced, forgotten, and discriminated against in those circles.  Sure, I date men, but I'm also attracted to women and straight women don't think about other women in that way.

My experience has been complicated because my sexuality is both silenced and sexualized.  I and people like me are told both that we don't exist and that people like us just want to have sex with anyone, or worse, only have sex with women because we want the attention of men.

In a group I'm a part of on Facebook, the question was posed, "If there was one thing you could share with your greater community about your experience growing up as or living as a bisexual woman in today's society, what would it be?"  My answer is that I want people to know that sexuality is fluid.  Generally liberal people know this, but discrimination still exists.  If I knew, if I was taught, that my sexuality is ok, that it might change throughout my life, and that I can be attracted to anyone and it be fine, perhaps I wouldn't have been so confused.

As a non-straight person, I call myself gay.  As a non-gay person, I call myself bisexual.  But what I really want people to know is that I am just a person.  I'm not confused and I'm not here for you.  I'm here for me.

Remember, remember, the 8th of November.

This morning I was thinking about the role the media currently plays in our lives.  The election of misogynist, racist, rapist, and most importantly, fascist Donald Trump is unprecedented.  As a true fascist, he hates the media and has on a regular basis discredited them as a whole to his followers, but those of us who are progressive already distrusted the mainstream media because it wasn't progressive enough and catered to an increasingly right leaning power structure. This is not what Donald dislikes. He dislikes their disagreeing with his lies (read: fact checking). Yet, in a “post-fact” world, what are we to do with a fascist who is discrediting a media that we already don't trust?

The 24 hour news cycle has been pretty absurd for a while now. It's not that they purposefully report incorrectly, it's more that the structure of a 24 hour news cycle requires 24 hour news coverage. This has lead to outlets attempting to break news stories before other outlets, before there are known facts, and when this happens no matter how many retractions are put out, most people have only tuned in for the breaking coverage and therefore believe something totally false. Another problem is that the mainstream media wants to remain unbiased. There's nothing wrong with this in itself, but this means covering the conservative right, a group of people who actively promote lies in order to continue their hold of power, and the conservative left, a group of people who cater to the lies of the conservative right that allows both parties to remain powerful while pretending to be the party of the people. This is not balanced. Sure, these two groups can outwardly disagree, but at the end of the day they're both in power because of the conservative right. Further, when the topic is something like climate change, the only balanced coverage is to cover that it is real and that humans caused it. Balanced would not include promoting lies that it isn't real by the mere airtime of the other side not believing it exists.

Unfortunately, this is not why Donald does not like the media. Donald doesn't like the media because they sometimes point out how he's a liar. Or make fun of his hair. Or he just doesn't like them because he's getting the people ready to distrust the media so that he can get ready to do and say whatever he wants once President and call it Truth. According to Robert Reich, Donald has already employed the seven tactics tyrants use to control the media. Democracy Now! covered it this morning, so, do watch.

Listen, comedy shows are comedy shows, not news shows, and sometimes these comedy shows talk about the news. That doesn't mean they're news shows... right? Well, if the majority of the public doesn't trust mainstream media and gets their news from these comedy shows, perhaps these news comedy shows have a greater responsibility to the public than they would prefer to have in a perfect world.

As an active consumer of independent media, I know where to get my news. Not everyone knows or has the time to consume media the way I do. Further, not everyone has the mental health to take in the media they do consume without it being lighthearted in some way. There is, of course, Citizen Radio, but the majority of people use these comedy/news shows as their primary source of news. Therefore, comedy/news has a greater responsibility to the public. In fact, Citizen Radio talks about this in their book!

Remember how everyone got pissed at Jimmy Fallon for not just having Donald on his show, but for not taking seriously the awfulness of the person sitting in front of him? This implies that the public agrees - screw that you're a comedy show. Take the responsibility your position in the public provides you and treat this threat seriously!

I think this is what everyone was hoping for:

This was always one of or the best parts of V for Vendetta in my opinion. Basically, if you have a platform, say something important. Be brave.

The scary thing about this is that it may be coming true. Alec Baldwin may seriously have the watch his back after January 20th. In fact, unless we are very careful and act quickly, aggressively, and loudly, there may be a chance much of V for Vendetta reminds us of our current world.

Hope for the best, plan for the worst, right? We live in unprecedented times and we shouldn't be blind the the worst happening for fear of looking like a catastrophist.

Bumper Sticky Situation

This post is a rant about veganism and abortion, so, hold on to your butts...

Today, thanks to my bumper stickers, I had a guy stand outside in the rain waiting for me to come out of the post office to talk to me about how I'm wrong to both support reproductive rights and animal rights. The two can, obviously, not be mutually exclusive. This is due to three bumper stickers I have: two about animal rights (one about climate change and one that says "Kindness is magic") and one that says "Reproductive Rights are Human Rights." As I was driving away after telling him that I did not want to discuss my bumper stickers with a stranger, I heard him yelling some nonsense about human babies.

I've known that there's a group of people who yell "But what about abortion?!??!?!!" when you're leafleting about animal rights, but I didn't realize that they're so hard core as to wait outside in the rain to talk to a stranger about a few pieces of plastic. The issue, I suppose, is that if you care so much about animal lives then it's hypocritical to not care about human baby lives. I think that makes total sense. I have never, not once in my entire life, eaten, tortured, abused, or mercilessly slaughtered a human baby.

I guess the difference between me and this man is that I don't consider a fetus to be a baby but also that I believe strongly that a woman, a fully formed human being, has the right to decide what happens to her body. I am pro-life in that way, I suppose. I am pro-women's lives; I'm pro-women not dying for the sake of fostering a growing fetus in her womb. But I'm also pro-fetuses no growing up in a home with a mother that is unsuited to care for the child, either physically or emotionally. I'm pro-keeping the number of kids in the foster system down. I'm pro-happy and healthy children who have parents that truly love and want them.

But there's also the larger issue of animal rights versus human rights that I think needs to be addressed here. When discussing animal rights with my non-vegan friend, he said, "I guess I'm just more on the human rights side of things." This is a serious problem that non-vegans don't understand - there is no disconnect between human rights and animal rights, and in fact, on the contrary, animal rights ARE human rights.

Animal rights, while a movement that fights for the safety and positive treatment of animals, also fights for labor and workers rights. It;s a movement that fights for better health for every human. It's a movement that fights for nonviolence in every sense of the word. In fact, (shameless plug) my new nonprofit, Para los Animales de Honduras, Inc. (PAH), is being formed for the purposes of nonviolence. Yes, when I was in Honduras I saw a lot of animal cruelty that changed my life, but it is impossible to separate the violence against animals with the human violence, especially in a place as violent as Honduras.

Studies have found that humane education efforts, that teach children how to treat animals in a nonviolent way, actually decreased overall violent behavior of the children who participated in humane education.

The goal of PAH, then, isn't only to make the lives of the animals in Honduras better, though that is one of our main goals. The reason why our mission is "to create a compassionate Honduras by advocating for animal rights through education and promoting compassionate policies" is because it isn't just about animal rights.  It's about human rights as well.

When someone says they're a human right person rather than an animal rights person, you can bet your bottom dollar that that person doesn't know much about either.

The Punk Scene Is Not For Everyone

"When it came down to it, it was just a lot of white dudes and they weren't for me but I had to be for them." - Amy Lamb

                                                                            

The punk scene is not for everyone.

Punk is promoted, in a sense, as a scene that is all-inclusive.  The losers, nerds, artists, freaks, geeks, and weirdos are all welcome.  This is a space that is expectantly for those of us who feel that we have no space; a space for those who are denied an outlet for expressing who they truly are.

That is, unless you are not a white, cis, straight man.

I, for as long as I can remember, have been "alternative."  I never quite fit in to the normal, preppy, mainstream culture.  I did try for quite a while, but I never did fit in.  I always fantasized about participating in a punk scene and I always saw it as my refuge.  The rebellion and the physical expression of who you are, not only in the tattoos, but also in the release of the mosh pits, the violence, the anger, the freedom appealed to me.  Coming from a small town and engorged with social anxiety made traveling to the closest punk scene unheard of for me.

In college, I first started hanging out with the "punk kids" during my sophomore year.  At first I thought that I was simply being too shy, so to compensate for being an Outsider, I began drinking.  I kept up with the guys.  I smoked cigarettes.  I went to the shows and moshed and sang and danced and partied with the rest of them.

But no matter what I did, however I participated, I never became one of them.

I came to find that there was an under current with the men and women separately, but equally toxic, in this environment.

With the women, it was straight competition for the attention and subsequent affection of the men.  Back then, I was much more of a militant feminist than I am now, and while I'm still fairly progressive especially in that sense, then I had this ideal of sisterhood and disbelieved strongly the stereotypes in the media that women are backstabbing or out to get one another for the attention of men.  That these women in this scene acted thus was difficult for me to swallow.

With the men, there was a feeling of me only being worth anyone's time if they wanted to have sex with me.  Outside of this, I was essentially non-existent.  My worth here, like many other times in my life was relegated to my body as a sexual object, but here it was more blatant than anywhere else.

This counter-cultural expression of self that is so elevated by these people was only an excuse to be an asshole.  The negative aspects of our society that I thought the punk scene was fighting against were in fact heightened.  The only benefit I can see to this is that this scene did not hide the disgusting and abhorrent aspects of our society but rather embraced them.  In this way only, these people are not hypocrites and I suppose this is their guiding light.  But in every other way this is despicable.  Instead of being counter-cultural, punk is the mainstream highly contrasted; one looking at punk simply sees the same picture of the mainstream but where all the ugly parts stand out.

The misogynist whiteness was hidden behind a desire to be both shocking and politically correct at the same time.  Men of color were teased for being men of color; the "Token Black Guy" was cool, but he was Black and all digs at him where expected to be believed to be from a place of love.  This love did not exist for the women in the community, for even in the extremes of the women who were able to become Insiders, the digs and the teasing was more blatantly from a place of malice.  Those at the butt of the joke had no outlet but to laugh or to be seen as a bitch, or worse, not chill.

This scene was not for me as I am not a man.  Even worse, I'm not straight.  I thought about with whom and when I wanted to have sex, and frequently it was not with these people.  I didn't always get crazy when I got drunk.  Worst of all, perhaps, is that I cared about things.  I was passionate about those things that I cared about and this is incredibly uncool of me.

It is never cool to be a passionate person with self respect if you are a woman in most social situations, but especially within punk.  A woman is meant to be the prize of the man - look, talk, act the way the man wants you to look, talk, act.  I never did this.  I have always been my own person.

I am not the first to say this.  The Bitch Media podcast, Popaganda, recently had an episode entitled, "Insider/Outsider" in which the poet Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib discusses being an outsider in the punk scene because he is a person of color.  He discusses how people react negatively to his description of punk as violent rather than a kind of sanctuary.  Amy Lamb, also a person of color and a women, interviews him and agrees; "I think you brought up a really great point about who gets the privilege or the ability to romanticize punk rock without problems."  That is, White Men.

I no longer exist within a punk scene, or any kind of scene for that matter.  I grew up and no longer want to waste my time trying to perform in a way that will make the prominent members of a social scene like me.  I still enjoy going to shows, but less now.  Honestly, the last show I went to was, of course, packed with white guys who thought the space belonged to them despite it being a rap show.  I don't care to put myself in situations where hordes of white guys are going to take up more space than they need, disrespecting others' space, because they feel entitled to it.

I'm glad I'm not alone in this, but I think it's time that the white guys in this community stop pretending it's a sanctuary for anyone but them.  They keep people as Outsiders.  Maybe they're proud, though, that they have made it that punk is not for everyone.

                                                                            

"I don't know if there's time to care about being an outsider when the entire structure of what I'm operating in was built to keep me outside in the first place." - Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib