"To be a vegetarian is to disagree - to disagree with the course of things today. Starvation, world hunger, cruelty, waste, wars. We must make a statement against these things. Vegetarianism is my statement. And I think it's a strong one."
-Isaac Bashevis Singer

on learning to love autumn

"support your right to arm bears."

—cleveland amory, 1917–1998, the fund for animals founder

Autumn in Minnesota, especially northern Minnesota had always been a season I'd despised. Never really been a fan of the pumpkin-and-corn-husk motif, the dropping temperatures, the football, the dying leaves. But the most despicable aspect of this season for me was the absurd migration of northerners to their "shacks" to go hunting. There, "autumn" is synonymous with "hunting season," and a perverse pride exists when the lives of beautiful animals are taken for "sport."  As a child, I had to spend many days out in the woods where so often gunshot rang out and ruined the perfect reverie of beautiful fall days. I'd stand in the yard or garage at the end of the day, supposed to be impressed at the pile of dead animals Dad brought home.


I credit those experiences as the true beginning of this journey. Dad's wild game dinners were the first to be permanently removed from my diet as I made the connection between dinner plate and lifeless (but once very full of life) being in the garage. Other animal products would later be eliminated as well, but this was where the seeds of compassionate thought were planted.


Subsequent autumns were uncomfortable and disheartening as the slaughter continued to go on in the woods, whether I approved or not. As much as possible, I tried to avoid hearing or seeing anything about it, but this is nearly impossible in a town where hunting is considered to be a family activity and kids are allowed to miss school for it. (moment of silence for that absurdity!) And so, fall became a time that I would dread. I wouldn't say it was difficult to be vegetarian during those times though; if anything that atmosphere solidified my personal convictions.


Moving to the Twin Cities, and later to Baltimore gave me much reprieve from "hunting season." Life in the city suited me better, and slowly... slowly, I found things to appreciate about autumn. Scarves and sweaters, walks down Summit Avenue through the golden leaves, increased coffee consumption, pumpkin ravioli, butternut squash soup. Summer will always be my favorite time of year, but I've learned to enjoy autumn in a place where the locals are more excited about changing leaves, beer fests, and pumpkin lattes than the advent of hunting season.  

"you ask people why they have deer heads on the wall. they always say, 'because it's such a beautiful animal.' there you go. i think my mother's attractive, but i have photographs of her."

—ellen degeneres

"hunting is not a sport. in a sport, both sides should know they're in the game."

—paul rodriguez

beginnings

After more than a decade of keeping animals off my plate, I came to realize just how comfortable I've become in these cruelty-free shoes. It is a lifestyle I've easily become accustomed to; scanning menus, ingredients lists, and clothing labels looking for keywords now feels natural. Shopping and cooking are now enjoyable experiences again rather than stressful. A way of life that at first was more of a novelty and fraught with obstacles seems effortless today.

I was recently reminded by a friend, a recent vegetarian, just how difficult it can be to uphold this unique lifestyle in a small town, especially in the beginning. I reflected on my own laughable fledgling days, becoming vegetarian. Born into a family history of restauranteurs and steakhouse chefs, a northern Minnesota town consumed by fishing and hunting, there was a time when forgoing meat seemed an unlikely choice. However, while in high school, I gave up eating animals and haven't looked back since. After moving to the Twin Cities, a college professor called me a black sheep, acknowledging the humor in my unlikely carnivorous roots. Until that point, I hadn't thought of my story in that way, but began to wear my uniqueness like a badge of courage.

I have had the pleasure of connecting with other vegetarians over the years and am always fascinated with others who have also come from small-town, Minnesota and are able to make the choice for a vegetarian lifestyle. I hope this will be a way to share more stories, quotes, recipes, and resources. This blog is for everyone who has given the incredulous look and exclaimed, "But what do you eat?!" and anyone who has ever had to answer this query, explaining their diet to a misunderstanding carnivore.  This is the delicious world of the black sheep vegetarian.

"Animals are my friends... and I don't eat my friends."

-George Bernard Shaw