What Comes Around
Yesterday, I was on campus for 5 hours of finals. This isn't the hard part for me. The hard part is the pile of grading work that I take home *after* finals. But the advantage of this scenario is that, before I schlepp all of the work home with me, I have a lot of time to help students with last-minute crises and to enjoy end-of-semester conversations with some students.
After my last final, I talked for about an hour with one very bright, forward-thinking student about her recent attempt at being vegan. She is doing fairly well, all things considered. We talked about the challenges of indoctrinating family, friends, and coworkers to living with a vegan, concocting new mouth-watering recipes, and venting the assorted frustrations that many vegans experience. We also discussed different videos and texts about factory farming and slaughterhouses, the differences between abolitionism and welfarism, and ways to insert small info bytes for people who don't want to (but really should) take another look at what they think is "food."
I love talking about being vegan with other vegans, but this conversation happened to take place in front of another student. This particular student very blindly follows not only the omnivore status quo, but also the hunter's mantra of "conservation." I know this because I was forced to read a paper by this student on why there's nothing wrong with hunting. All hair pulling and teeth grinding aside, this was a well structured (though logically flawed) paper. However, I knew from this student's tone that I could say nothing to shine even the dimmest light on why hunting is anything BUT conservation. So I let it go. Well, almost. I suggested that this student read Francione and Scully, but I highly doubt that it will ever happen.
During the vegan conversation with the first student, I deliberately framed my comments to make the other student take notice ... and notice, he did. Although I didn't say anything directly about hunting, I did comment on the health risks from consuming large quantities of cow milk, the inherent unnaturalness of the entire food product industry, the horrific torture that all "food product" animals must (by federal law) suffer at slaughterhouses, the correlation between very serious diseases (cancer, heart disease, diabetes, for example) and animal-based foods, and the unprecedented environmental degradation coming directly from factory farms.
There were several points when my pro-hunting student listened intently to the conversation, but he didn't say anything. I don't mind. After being forced to sludge through a paper's worth of pro-hunting rhetoric from this student, I relished my conversation about all things vegan. I pounced on the opportunity to respond in full, albeit indirectly, to some points that this student had made. I hope that my pro-hunting student was truly listening and thinking about the implications, but sadly, I doubt it. Something about his demeanor told me that he would go the way of many omnivores: selective listening and, ultimately, denial.
After my last final, I talked for about an hour with one very bright, forward-thinking student about her recent attempt at being vegan. She is doing fairly well, all things considered. We talked about the challenges of indoctrinating family, friends, and coworkers to living with a vegan, concocting new mouth-watering recipes, and venting the assorted frustrations that many vegans experience. We also discussed different videos and texts about factory farming and slaughterhouses, the differences between abolitionism and welfarism, and ways to insert small info bytes for people who don't want to (but really should) take another look at what they think is "food."
I love talking about being vegan with other vegans, but this conversation happened to take place in front of another student. This particular student very blindly follows not only the omnivore status quo, but also the hunter's mantra of "conservation." I know this because I was forced to read a paper by this student on why there's nothing wrong with hunting. All hair pulling and teeth grinding aside, this was a well structured (though logically flawed) paper. However, I knew from this student's tone that I could say nothing to shine even the dimmest light on why hunting is anything BUT conservation. So I let it go. Well, almost. I suggested that this student read Francione and Scully, but I highly doubt that it will ever happen.
During the vegan conversation with the first student, I deliberately framed my comments to make the other student take notice ... and notice, he did. Although I didn't say anything directly about hunting, I did comment on the health risks from consuming large quantities of cow milk, the inherent unnaturalness of the entire food product industry, the horrific torture that all "food product" animals must (by federal law) suffer at slaughterhouses, the correlation between very serious diseases (cancer, heart disease, diabetes, for example) and animal-based foods, and the unprecedented environmental degradation coming directly from factory farms.
There were several points when my pro-hunting student listened intently to the conversation, but he didn't say anything. I don't mind. After being forced to sludge through a paper's worth of pro-hunting rhetoric from this student, I relished my conversation about all things vegan. I pounced on the opportunity to respond in full, albeit indirectly, to some points that this student had made. I hope that my pro-hunting student was truly listening and thinking about the implications, but sadly, I doubt it. Something about his demeanor told me that he would go the way of many omnivores: selective listening and, ultimately, denial.