“Why are you a vegetarian?” When one of the yearbook staff posed this question to me in an email during my freshman year of high school, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Of the 500 students in my class, I was one of the few people interviewed for the 2011-2012 yearbook.
I quickly typed a response to the staff member, beginning with the cute, but slightly embarrassing story of why I decided to stop eating meat in the sixth grade.
"The summer before sixth grade, my dad and I were fishing, and after an incredibly slow couple of hours, he finally caught a bass big enough to keep. And when I say keep, I mean eat. Since it wasn’t quite lunchtime, he stuck it in a cooler to keep it fresh. Being the animal lover I am, I decided that since the fish was going to be staying with us for a little while, it needed a name. Do I currently remember the name of that fish? No, but it was really important then, and anyway, that’s not the point of this story.
Naming the fish gave me a strong sense of attachment to it, which would not have been a problem, unless, of course, my dad had not been planning to fillet it in a couple hours for lunch. After a full-blown temper tantrum, which included crying, foot stomping, and the stereotypical “I will never talk to you again”, my family (minus one heartbroken little girl) enjoyed a lunch of fresh bass. Later that evening, after very careful (not at all emotional) consideration, I proclaimed to my family that I was going to become a vegetarian."
Of course, I superseded my initial response to the yearbook question with a much more mature answer as to why I had become and maintained vegetarianism for the past four years, talking about things like “being a voice for the voiceless.” All in all, I was pretty happy with my response and was hoping to bring awareness to animal rights issues and prove to the world that not all vegetarians are crazy.
When the yearbooks finally came out in May, I eagerly flipped through it fully expecting to embrace my moment in the spotlight, shining for the entire school to see. After landing on the page with the title, “I am a vegetarian because…” I saw a little picture of myself with a word bubble coming out of my mouth saying, “… when I was 11, my dad killed a fish, and I swore I would never eat meat again.” With my cheeks burning, I walked around school, hoping no one else had seen my little, embarrassing moment of yearbook fame. As I walked into the classroom that signaled the halfway point of my day, the cutest guy in the room (who I also happened to have a major crush on) saw me and proceeded to mock me, laughing all the while about why I became a vegetarian (as if I didn’t already know). Trying to escape with some dignity, I laughed it off and informed him that I was “misquoted.” (I never said I “swore I would never eat meat again.”) I walked meekly to my seat.
As I’ve gotten more secure in my vegetarianism, I’ve told this story as an amusing part of how I became a vegetarian. However, it is quite concerning to me how many people follow-up my tale with the question “You’re a vegetarian because of a fish?” This typically elicits a sarcastic response, something like, “yes, I have been a vegetarian for eight years now because I am still upset over the fact that my dad killed a fish.” The other inane responses I get are, “you know people are still going to eat meat, so you aren’t making a difference,” “the animal is dead anyway, so you might as well eat it” and my favorite, “if I couldn’t eat meat I would die!" My response in reverse order is typically, “no you wouldn’t,” “it’s one less animal killed” and “screw you."
I’ve learned over the years that the general population does not know very much about the lifestyle of a vegetarian. Generally, we are portrayed as crazy, tree-hugging hippies who shove their beliefs down everyone’s throats and will throw fake blood on anyone wearing fur. My mantra is that if you don’t lecture me about why I’m wrong for not eating meat, I won’t condemn you for eating it. But the moment you start talking about how “in the long run, I am killing animals by eating their food source," is the exact time I will proceed to “moo” every time you take a bite of your hamburger.
Like I mentioned previously, I get a lot of questions about the vegetarian life style. Some say ignorance is bliss, but I believe ignorance is annoying and can make one look incredibly stupid. So, in an effort to prevent you from looking like an idiot when you are on a first date with a vegetarian, here are a few basic questions not to ask and the answers to them!
“What do you eat?”
Counter to popular belief, there are protein sources other than animals. These include tofu (see definition below), nuts, beans, cheese, yogurt, milk, eggs, leafy greens and the finger of the next person who points to my plate with a disgusted look and asks what is that. (Did I mention I only don’t eat animals that are cute and don’t talk?)
“What is tofu?”
Tofu is a spongy block of bean curd. Yes, curd is a strange and funny word. Yes, I do like it. If I didn’t, why would I eat it? There are plenty of other ways to get protein (see above).
“But aren’t eggs baby chickens?”
Do I really need to explain the fertilization process to you?
“Do you eat chicken?”
The last time I checked, chickens are animals so...
“Well, what about fish, they aren’t really animals.”
I really think you need to go back to third grade biology.
“Do you miss meat?”
Do you miss (insert food you hate here)?
“Not even bacon?”
“Oh my gosh, yes, I miss bacon so much, (insert eye roll). It eats me up inside knowing I can’t eat it. No, it’s just bacon.
“Would you ever consider eating meat again?”
No.
“What if I paid you a million dollars?”
(eye roll)
“What if someone was holding a gun to your head?”
I don’t think we can be friends anymore.
“What if..."
Bye.
