Betsy's road to vegan: A tale of pain, compassion, and an Italian grandmother

My story begins on a bucolic dairy farm near my home where I spent most of my youth. Too innocent to understand the purpose of farming, I embraced all its animals: I nursed baby goats, tended to cows, assisted with calf births, made forts in cow pastures, and built immunity to the smell of cow dung (blissfully unaware that it lingered and other people had not built up immunity).   I especially had a fondness for a smooth mocha colored cow named Birgit. She had big doleful eyes and creamy fur. 

One day I noticed Birgit was not at her usual station. I dismissed it until I saw the name ‘Birgit’ written on a neat white package stacked in the barn freezer. In my naïve 9 years of age, I convinced myself that perhaps it was a birthday gift for my beloved girl. Right. Sadly, it was time for my first reality check: Grandmother’s Italian meatballs did not come from moonbeams and rainbows.

After my sophomore year of college, I did what every restless 19 year old did in those days – I went to Seattle in search of Eddie Vedder.  I did not find Eddie, but I did meet vegetarians for the first time. It was a more mainstream practice in Seattle than in my native Boston, and I felt a kindred spirit to them. Birgit in mind, I thought, “I can do this too!” So I returned from my summer of grunge as a proud, hygienically challenged, freshly-minted vegetarian.  And so it began.

My Italian grandmother dismissed my vegetarianism as a fleeting college fad and snuck meat onto my plate at every available turn as any Italian grandmother worth her pasta e fagioli would. I became a pro at gingerly scraping off all carnage, praying no meat bits would accidentally evade my scrutiny. I was up against an impenetrable Italian force, but stayed true to my cause. “Va fangul!” she would say. (I am not exactly sure what it means, but I am pretty sure that it doesn’t mean you’re awesome.)

That Italian force tested me again while studying in Italy for my junior year of college. I encountered Italians who were as nonplussed by my vegetarian lifestyle as my gram.  “Sono vegeteriana’ I would say meekly to the formidable woman shoveling meat on my plate with frightening brute force. She would shake her head with derision and pretend she did not hear me.  (Either it was cultural or she was on my grandmother’s payroll. I never found out).  Being vegetarian in Italy was its own mighty challenge.

My vegetarian lifestyle met with other obstacles. I transferred out of my East Coast graduate school because I would not slaughter pigs for research as was expected.  Scientists were not supposed to have a weakness for animals. I witnessed how reducing animals to mechanized component parts opened the door to their objectification: a step toward cruelty. I observed with discomfort how infectious this process can be and how susceptible we are to it, even with the best of intentions.

It was not until researching my book, “Small Footprint Big Impact’ that I learned that the number one cause for environmental problems is our addiction to animal products. Cows release methane, a gas 20 times more potent than carbon dioxide over a 100 year span. Most of the rainforest is converted to land for grazing or for soy and other crops – 90% of which go to feed livestock. This causes an alarming reduction in wild animal species that compete for that land. Most of our energy and water use go to raising livestock. Food insecurity in all parts of the world can be traced back to our unchecked consumption of animal products.

How could I possibly call myself an environmentalist, then turn around and contribute to the biggest threat to the environment? Being a vegetarian was not enough. I had to go vegan. (I can almost hear my grandmother from her grave shouting; Va Fangul!)

Then there were moral considerations for me to ponder.  The extreme cruelty of the farming industry is rarely discussed. It has been consistently sanitized for our convenience. Yes, animals are killed and mistreated, even for eggs and dairy. I agree with Law professor and Philosopher Gary Francione who said, “You cannot speak about nonviolence and stick violence into your mouth three times a day.” Greenwashing with deceptive terms such as ‘cage free’ and ‘free range’ is hardly contested because we do not want to contest them. Naysayers are censored and even prosecuted.  ‘Ag-gag’ laws are fierce and unrelenting.

Given all these factors, a vegan diet for me was inevitable. Sorry gram.  (Va fangul.)

Going vegan has greatly improved our quality of life for my fiancé (who, annoyingly, reached his ideal weight with no struggle at all) and me.  With fresh vigor, my more disciplined half awakens at 5 AM to work out every morning. (I on the other hand, will never wake up at 5 AM for any reason). We are both active, healthy, and our blood levels are normal. Despite popular food myths, we discovered that a vegan diet meets all our nutritional needs and it is becoming increasingly accessible to eat vegan. We drove across country together in December, using an app called Happy Cow to find so many great vegan places in Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana and Texas!

We feel at peace in the knowledge that we are making responsible decisions for the planet and for all living beings. My fiancé and I will continue our vegan lifestyle and continue spreading awareness about animal cruelty. This will last for as long as we have fight in us. And though she would never ever admit it, I know my gram is very proud, and in her own way, showing her support from that great big pasta e fagioli in the sky (which, if done correctly, is vegan).

We believe that until every one of us is free, then none of us are free.

Va fangul

Betsy Jordan, Los Angeles, CA