For the Love of a Farmer, Again
This weekend, I am going home to celebrate the 80th birthday of the grandpa I wrote about here the first day of the year: the one who farmed animals, the one who fishes, the one who along with my uncle and cousins tells hunting stories that turn my stomach and send anger surging up – and yet one who, like all my grandparents, loves me fiercely, hugs me tightly, and has my deepest love in return. I’ve frequently thought back to this post (and to a related post that was supposed to, but did not, follow it) in recent weeks. I’m not in a spot, mentally or time-wise, where I can write a new post today, but in honor of the birthday of a farmer and hunter around whom I will wrap my arms and for whom I will be grateful this weekend, I reshare this previously published post:
For the Love of a Farmer: Remembering Who They Are and What We’re Fighting
Not actually my grandpa (see credit at end of post)
He was a small-scale, old-school, struggling family farmer for much of his life. He is a hunter. He is a fisher. He talks about “breaking” horses he loves. He taught me to catch fish and ride horses as a child.
He tells hunting stories that make me want to cry, shout, and shake him by the shoulders. He certainly does not get this vegan thing.
But he is also my grandpa. And he is also big-hearted and full of affection, maybe not for animals in the ways that I wish, but for me and his other grandchildren, children, siblings, and wife, there is love immeasurable.
He is a hunter. But he is also the man who, when the rest of the family couldn’t understand why I so desperately needed to save my great-grandma’s rickety, unplayable old piano, understood and supported me and bid for me at the auction, his eyes as full of tears as my own as we fought together for that piano and the memories it held.
He was for many years a farmer and a slaughterer. But he is also the man who, when I came to him three years ago, to finally tell him and my grandma my truth, told me with again-teary eyes that he loved me and wanted me to be happy; hugged me even tighter and longer than usual; and when Christmas Eve came, demanded to know why she wasn’t with me — and to insist I bring her along the next year.
He is a fisher. But he is also the man who took me along a few times to my great-grandma’s pond, and though it was for an activity I cringe at and regret now, he did this with good intentions and out of love — out of a genuine desire to share a tradition and a moment with his young grandkids.
He is not a much of a friend to nonhuman animals. But he is an ailing, aging grandfather who looks forward to holidays and reunions and looks around the room at the faces of his family with great emotion. He remembers the daughter and siblings and parents he has lost with a great ache, and he loves the family still surrounding him with fervor and works to bring them laughter with his trademark goofiness even when he is in great pain.
He has killed many animals. But he loves and would move mountains for me.
I’ve been known to say that I wish every animal rights advocate had this kind of direct knowledge of and relationship with farmers and hunters and rural communities — because as frustrating and emotionally trying as those connections can be, it is too easy for us to demonize them as our evil opposition and come across as merely hateful when we don’t know them as individual people. I myself have been guilty of doing this at times.
There absolutely are practices, attitudes, actions, statements, and indeed people that deserve to be called out — regularly. But it’s not necessary or effective to simplify and demonize all people who don’t yet see what we see, who themselves have feelings and families and much good in them. We forget sometimes that in the industries and systems we rightly oppose, there are individuals, and for the most part, they aren’t evil, cold people — they’re just people, people who were raised a certain way to believe certain things and follow certain paths. Some of them have the capacity to open their eyes and mind to new ways of looking at the world and to change course. Perhaps most of them won’t ever go in that direction, but they’re still 0ur fellow animals too, who feel all the same emotions we know our nonhuman fellow animals to feel.
We (and I include myself in this “we”) need to remind ourselves periodically that what we’re fighting is a mindset, a way of looking at the world. We’re trying to open people up to new truths, to change their misperceptions, to help them grow, to help them tap into their potential for compassion and new ways of living. The enemy is not usually the individual people. The ingrained societal view of nonhuman animals is what we have to bring down, while remembering that the factors that inform each of our experiences, beliefs, worldviews, and ways of living are terribly complex, often making those we frequently see as the enemy just another category of unwitting victims of the paradigm we’re working to shift — often, they are tools of the system rather than, or as much as, leaders of it.
Let me be clear: It is indeed our job to challenge the people who and the perspectives that perpetuate the oppression and killing of animals. But as compassionate people — and as effective animal advocates in a world in which most people don’t yet agree with us — we must try to remember that most people engaged in animal exploitation and killing, even for a profit, aren’t inherently bad people with dark or dishonest motives. And painting them as such with a broad brush doesn’t help our cause; it doesn’t convince them to listen to us.
My grandpa isn’t going to change in these final years. But others might. And family and friends are far more likely to respect and listen to what I have to say if I still respect and see the good in them. I could verbally lash out at my grandfather and other relatives. I could call them names, tear them down. And by doing that, I would not only hurt and alienate them but also alienate every single person in the room who loves them, who doesn’t yet understand why I object to what they do and have done. Or I can remain respectful and speak my truths honestly but lovingly. And that’s when I have a shot at opening their hearts rather than turning them into enemies who will dig in their heels upon feeling attacked (or defensive of the person they see being attacked). This brings me to a related topic I’ve wanted to address for a long time, related to how animal advocates talk about and to the very people we’re trying to reach, but I’ll leave that for another upcoming post of its own.
For now, I’ll just repeat the thoughts and feelings that overwhelmed me during that Christmas Eve gathering as I watched him from across the room, struggling to breathe but taking in his family with joy and laughter, the night when I wrote most of this post: He is a farmer and a hunter. He says and does things that make me furious. But he is also my grandpa, who says and does other things that melt my heart. I am a committed animal rights advocate and a compassionate and passionate vegan, but I am also a granddaughter. And I do love my grandparents* tremendously. I do love that old farmer.
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*All four of my grandparents (I am lucky to still have all of them around and to have grown up close to them, geographically and emotionally) have farmed and slaughtered at some point over the years. And all four are kind, compassionate, deeply loving people. All four mean the world to me.
Photo by Flickr user Bob Jagendorf
Stephanie Ernst
Marji
Kelly G.
Deb
Mary Martin
This post has always spoken to me on such a deep level.
My grandfather used to slaughter chickens in his basement over the wash tub… He stopped doing it before I was born, but the thought of being in that basement, where once there were dead & dying chickens, used to scare me as a child. Horrific nightmares of that small room with the wash tub and the heavy wire strung over it… But did I love my grandfather any less for it?
Years later as a teenager first exploring vegetarianism, he was completely without understanding of my beliefs, but not without his usual love for me. I don’t love the actions, but I loved the man, just as I love every one in my life. Being veg*n doesn’t automatically make you a “good” person just as the opposite is not true.
My boyfriend (and partner in the valley vegan adventures) is not veg*n, but over the last year has become so curious about my choices & actions. When we are home cooking for ourselves, he requests vegan fare. He will never be a vegan, but that doesn’t stop me from loving him.
The fact that all of us are capable of kindness, compassion & love is what we need to keep our focus on. To make veganism an exclusive club is wrong. To shun non-vegans is just as wrong as being shunned by our omnivorous counterparts.
I love.
This is really powerful. Thanks. I sometimes feel guilty for loving my family a lot though they are all omnivores, pro-capitalism (though mostly liberal, at least), and ranging in sympathy towards immigrant rights, queer rights, etc. I’m glad you re-posted this, because I missed it the first time.
I am so with you at every level. What a well put together article. I myself a vegetarian who will die before making any living creature suffer. No leather, wool, or animal products. My dad if still alive would have been 102 today. He was also raised on a farm and was a butcher for 50 years. My dad taught me the love of animals. He was the most loving and moral man. His heart was huge. I have difficulty with people who demonize also. My father didn’t have an uncompassionate bone in his body, although he cut meat and killed animals to raise seven kids during his life. That was his way of life as it was many. I will always honor my father for all that he did. It was a different age then, they lived off the land. No matter how I live my life and have opinions of the blatant excess and greed involved in killing the animals. My father was of a different time, and he has taught me the respect I have today which I have evolved into becoming a vegetarian. I will never look back to anything but respect and love of the man. He put in me the love I share today. Thank you for sharing this was really important.
So glad you reposted!
You’re so right. Hey, we weren’t born veg*ns! It’s a choice we’ve made because we’ve learned to see that ALL animals can suffer. We know all animals feel, non-veg*ns may say that non-human animals don’t have feelings the way humans do. But can non-human animals feel pain? Of Course! and ‘shouldn’t that be enough?’ we say. But I digress…
Anyway, we can’t expect everyone in our life to change their ways because we did, or to see things our way. No matter how many times we talk to them about the plight of animals.
We still love our families and friends the same way we did before we were veg*ns and hopefully they love us the same way too ;) (I’m sure they do).
My sisters, my mom and I lived on a farm for a while. I witnessed branding of cows with hot iron rods and butchering of various animals (some were particularly gruesome). My mom and sisters saw the exact same things that I did, but only I stopped eating meat, and buying animal products (years later, btw). We had such different reactions, even though we grew up in the same places and with the same experiences on the farm. To this day, my sister believes that the purpose for non-human animals in this world is to provide us with food! (Ha! I know, I’m amazed too!) Of course she is against the way factory farms operate but that’s another story. The point is, her beliefs are very different than mine, but we don’t love each other any less because of that :)
A beautiful post Stephanie. I too missed the first posting of it. A gentle reminder that many of the people we love the most do not, and may never, share our advocacy for animals. The little country pub at the end of our road holds a Social Club meat raffle every Friday night. Money raised is used to help the community. When a regular passed away recently, with no family but those at the pub, money came out of the kitty to pay for his funeral. And almost the entire community attended. While I cringe at the thought of meat raffles, these are good people with good intentions.
I am in tears. I grew up on that farm you are talking about. Milked cows every morning and night. Hunted, fished. All of it. The one thing that I would want the vegan community to know and understand is the ones that really love, appreciate and take pride in their “kills” Far out way the ones that don’t. You may not understand it, but they were raised to respect the animals that keep them alive. I know it is not an easy concept to wrap your brain around. The author of this article puts it well.