Yesterday I ate refried beans that were waaay too tasty to be vegan. I knew this before consuming them, and I chose to do it anyway.
In Eating Animals, Jonthan Safran Foer discusses the human need to "break bread"; that we use food as a communal activity, and that to reject someone's offering of food is tantamount to rejecting the person himself/herself. PETA urges vegans and vegetarians not to "sweat the small stuff" (read about it here http://www.peta.org/living/vegetarian-living/tiny-amount-of-animal-products-in-food.aspx) in the name of making veganism and vegetarianism seem more "doable" to meat-eating family and friends.
I had already prepared myself for the possibility that I would not be able to adhere steadfastly to veganism at the dinner I attended last night, and it was the first time I really could see no way around it. I was invited to dinner at student's house, which was an amazing and incredibly kind gesture on the part of her family. They simply wanted to say "thank you" to some of their daughter's teachers, and it was so moving and wonderful to be invited to their home. Hence, I did not plan on making a stink about being vegan.
I did not eat cheese, but I am like 110% sure that those refried beans had pork fat. I had 2 helpings. You win some, you lose some. I feel guilty, and I feel stupid for feeling guilty. It's a compromising position in every sense: an awkward place to be and a place where compromise feels inevitable.
I'm in about week 5 of being a vegan, and it's getting harder. I smell cheese on Papa John's pizza, and really struggle with whether I care more about my morals or about melty cheese. Last night, I really really thought hard about whether or not my ideals are worth never having another piece of red velvet cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory (that stuff is really, REALLY good).
I feel like I'm in one of those moments that I love to wax poetic about to students: that time when the going gets tough, and it's what you do next that defines your character. So I've switched my brand of pasta (no more Barilla pasta PLUS - it has egg whites; bought Barillo whole grain - tastier, in my opinion), and I eat soy yogurt and tofutti (in place of cream cheese). I wonder, however, what is the balance between reasonable compromise and compromising my ethical choice?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Blast from the Past (in 2 parts)
Blast from the Past #1: The Library as a Necessity, Not Just a Really Nice Study Room
I threw up a little bit in my mouth when I read the following in an e-mail from my Thursday night professor (my comments/reactions are in parentheses):
"Hello folks (stike one),
I hope your weekend is going well. I have received many inquiries about searching for books/articles (Seriously? People don't know how to use databases? Ridiculous. Hmmm...I wonder if I should start downloading since class is tomorrow...). Since most books and book chapters cannot be found online (WAIT - WHAT?!), going to the library and making copies the old-fashioned way is the only option (That's it, I'm quitting grad school. F-you, University of Houston. This. Is. A. Joke.). If you are looking for a book which our library does not carry (YOU MEAN THE LIBRARY FOR THE SCHOOL AT WHICH YOU TEACH AND ARE OFFERING THIS COURSE, YOU LAZY COW?!), you can request it via inter library loan..."
Yes, my course on Thursday night not only contains pages and excerpts from books that we were not required to purchase and which are not digital (hence, we will have to physically go to the library and photocopy them), it also contains pages and excerpts from books that CANNOT BE FOUND ON THE UNIVERSITY OF HOUSTON CAMPUS. In my undergraduate work, I literally only checked out books when doing my thesis research, and that was because they hadn't been digitized...YET. The fact that I might actually be expected to HAVE to go to the library is legitimately shocking to me. I am embarrassed that I legitimately feel wronged that these readings are not available on google books; I truly think that someone is trying to trick me. That is foolish, silly, childish, baby-like, and humiliating...and it is real. I am a child of the digital age, and I am blind-sided by the reality that I might be required to use the library for something other than studying and checking out books that I'm too cheap to buy. I might have to use the library out of necessity.
Blast from the Past #2: That Time When I Used to be More Than a Math Teacher
The hilarity of what I'm about to say is that it will be equally and oppositely shocking to two audiences: my teacher friends and my childhood friends. Here it goes:
Today, while discussing teacher support, a colleague of mine suggested that I do a model lesson in a 9th grade English class.
To my childhood friends, me teaching English is - I would guess - the most natural thing in the world. When I run into people, they often assume that this is what I do when they find out I work in education. Despite the fact that my writing has suffered considerably since leaving college (please don't use this opportunity to start judging my blog ...it's admittedly not an excellent sample), I was at one time a "really good" writer and reader according to my teachers and friends. I edited essays for friends routinely (we really, really tortured Mr. Garrett, you guys...bad), I received 5s on both English AP tests without lifting a finger to study or try (I arrived for one of them 45 minutes late and in my pjs) because it came naturally to me, I kicked ass at (and loved) analyzing poetry, and I aced my Freshman Writing Seminar in college (I even won $500 and the Gertrude Spencer Award for Writing in the Disciplines in Fall 2004...http://www.arts.cornell.edu/knight_institute/publicationsprizes/prizewinners/winnersfall04.htm).
I am waxing poetic about my literary love and accomplishments here because of what was said next by my dear friend and colleague Lindsey W.:
"Wait - CAN you teach English?"
I was blown away. To ME I am still the girl who is great at English and who won the Gertrude Spencer Prize. To Lindsey, who I love dearly and hope will not be offended by my use of her name here, I am a Math Teacher. That's all I've been in the time that she's known me. A teacher of Algebra I, then Algebra II, then back to Algebra I, then back to Algebra II. I mean, sure, I've been a grade level chair and a principal...but in the world of education that doesn't DEFINE you. It's a question of WHAT you TEACH. Math. That's my IDENTITY to a huge number of people now.
To me, I am still the girl who struggled with math. Who wanted to cry every time Chris, Mark, Charlton, or Andrew tried to explain some math concept or trick from Mouth Counts that I was convinced I would never understand (thanks for so frequently trying though, guys). To me, I still can't beat Charlton at times table challenges in Mrs. Mahr's class, and Mr. Chesterfield still thinks that my mathematical work is "garbage". I am still spending 3 hours to most of my friends' 1 hour on math homework.
I love teaching Math. A lot. I don't regret it for a moment. I am, however, shocked by the way in which a little piece of paper from Teach For America that said "4-8 Mathematics" changed my identity forever when I held it in my hand in my RA room at 20 years old. I remember how my family laughed when I told them I was placed in Math; how my friends teased as I explained - terrified - that in Texas my Stat credits counted towards "highly qualified" in Math.
I used to be more than a Math Teacher...and yes, I CAN teach this English lesson.
Thank you, Lindsey, for reminding me of all of the facets of who I used to be.
Who were YOU before you became what you teach?
I threw up a little bit in my mouth when I read the following in an e-mail from my Thursday night professor (my comments/reactions are in parentheses):
"Hello folks (stike one),
I hope your weekend is going well. I have received many inquiries about searching for books/articles (Seriously? People don't know how to use databases? Ridiculous. Hmmm...I wonder if I should start downloading since class is tomorrow...). Since most books and book chapters cannot be found online (WAIT - WHAT?!), going to the library and making copies the old-fashioned way is the only option (That's it, I'm quitting grad school. F-you, University of Houston. This. Is. A. Joke.). If you are looking for a book which our library does not carry (YOU MEAN THE LIBRARY FOR THE SCHOOL AT WHICH YOU TEACH AND ARE OFFERING THIS COURSE, YOU LAZY COW?!), you can request it via inter library loan..."
Yes, my course on Thursday night not only contains pages and excerpts from books that we were not required to purchase and which are not digital (hence, we will have to physically go to the library and photocopy them), it also contains pages and excerpts from books that CANNOT BE FOUND ON THE UNIVERSITY OF HOUSTON CAMPUS. In my undergraduate work, I literally only checked out books when doing my thesis research, and that was because they hadn't been digitized...YET. The fact that I might actually be expected to HAVE to go to the library is legitimately shocking to me. I am embarrassed that I legitimately feel wronged that these readings are not available on google books; I truly think that someone is trying to trick me. That is foolish, silly, childish, baby-like, and humiliating...and it is real. I am a child of the digital age, and I am blind-sided by the reality that I might be required to use the library for something other than studying and checking out books that I'm too cheap to buy. I might have to use the library out of necessity.
Blast from the Past #2: That Time When I Used to be More Than a Math Teacher
The hilarity of what I'm about to say is that it will be equally and oppositely shocking to two audiences: my teacher friends and my childhood friends. Here it goes:
Today, while discussing teacher support, a colleague of mine suggested that I do a model lesson in a 9th grade English class.
To my childhood friends, me teaching English is - I would guess - the most natural thing in the world. When I run into people, they often assume that this is what I do when they find out I work in education. Despite the fact that my writing has suffered considerably since leaving college (please don't use this opportunity to start judging my blog ...it's admittedly not an excellent sample), I was at one time a "really good" writer and reader according to my teachers and friends. I edited essays for friends routinely (we really, really tortured Mr. Garrett, you guys...bad), I received 5s on both English AP tests without lifting a finger to study or try (I arrived for one of them 45 minutes late and in my pjs) because it came naturally to me, I kicked ass at (and loved) analyzing poetry, and I aced my Freshman Writing Seminar in college (I even won $500 and the Gertrude Spencer Award for Writing in the Disciplines in Fall 2004...http://www.arts.cornell.edu/knight_institute/publicationsprizes/prizewinners/winnersfall04.htm).
I am waxing poetic about my literary love and accomplishments here because of what was said next by my dear friend and colleague Lindsey W.:
"Wait - CAN you teach English?"
I was blown away. To ME I am still the girl who is great at English and who won the Gertrude Spencer Prize. To Lindsey, who I love dearly and hope will not be offended by my use of her name here, I am a Math Teacher. That's all I've been in the time that she's known me. A teacher of Algebra I, then Algebra II, then back to Algebra I, then back to Algebra II. I mean, sure, I've been a grade level chair and a principal...but in the world of education that doesn't DEFINE you. It's a question of WHAT you TEACH. Math. That's my IDENTITY to a huge number of people now.
To me, I am still the girl who struggled with math. Who wanted to cry every time Chris, Mark, Charlton, or Andrew tried to explain some math concept or trick from Mouth Counts that I was convinced I would never understand (thanks for so frequently trying though, guys). To me, I still can't beat Charlton at times table challenges in Mrs. Mahr's class, and Mr. Chesterfield still thinks that my mathematical work is "garbage". I am still spending 3 hours to most of my friends' 1 hour on math homework.
I love teaching Math. A lot. I don't regret it for a moment. I am, however, shocked by the way in which a little piece of paper from Teach For America that said "4-8 Mathematics" changed my identity forever when I held it in my hand in my RA room at 20 years old. I remember how my family laughed when I told them I was placed in Math; how my friends teased as I explained - terrified - that in Texas my Stat credits counted towards "highly qualified" in Math.
I used to be more than a Math Teacher...and yes, I CAN teach this English lesson.
Thank you, Lindsey, for reminding me of all of the facets of who I used to be.
Who were YOU before you became what you teach?
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Contradictions
Contradication 1: I am a vegan who shocks my dogs.
I installed an electric fence in my backyard the same week that I became a vegan. More specifically, my parents and fiance installed an electric fence in my backyard, and I stayed in side and entertained the dogs it is designed to shock. I am a vegan who shocks my dogs. Lovely.
The fence is not designed to shock both of my dogs, though it's done just that since its installation (although, thankfully, each dog has only gone near it once). The fence is designed to shock my near-feral, completely deaf, highly dog-aggressive, rescued pit bull, Lily (see adorable picture of her jumping on the bed to the right).
I love Lily borderline obsessively. I worry about her, I pay irrationally close attention to her moods and mannerisms, and I love to cuddle her on the couch. She is a world champion snuggler, a people lover, and has a big, amazing personality. She is fearful and highly aggressive toward moving objects (like cars and bikes) and dogs (especially small ones that ignite her prey instincts), and has been known to display displaced aggression (in which, in the throws of her aggression, she will turn on anything in her path). Thus, when Lily realized that she was strong enough to use her head/face/teeth to break our fence boards (literally pry them off and chew off pieces of the bottom) and go after the 6 tiny dogs (one of whom is deformed...but that's a whole other story) in the yard next door, quick action was necessary. We are committed to training Lily and to working through her fear and aggression issues, and in the meantime we can't risk her killing the 6 weiner dogs next door and possibly harming their owners (remember that displaced aggression thing) in the process. Enter the electric fence.
For me, this presents a world of conundrums and contradictions: is it worth it to FOR SURE cause pain to my dog to prevent the POSSIBILITY that she would inflict harm on others? Is it worth shocking Lily to prevent the possibility that she might have to be humanely euthanized if she got through the fence? Is it worth shocking Elle - the good dog who has no problem with breaking the fence and trying to kill weiner dogs - to protect Lily?
I installed an electric fence in my backyard the same week that I became a vegan. More specifically, my parents and fiance installed an electric fence in my backyard, and I stayed in side and entertained the dogs it is designed to shock. I am a vegan who shocks my dogs. Lovely.
The fence is not designed to shock both of my dogs, though it's done just that since its installation (although, thankfully, each dog has only gone near it once). The fence is designed to shock my near-feral, completely deaf, highly dog-aggressive, rescued pit bull, Lily (see adorable picture of her jumping on the bed to the right).
I love Lily borderline obsessively. I worry about her, I pay irrationally close attention to her moods and mannerisms, and I love to cuddle her on the couch. She is a world champion snuggler, a people lover, and has a big, amazing personality. She is fearful and highly aggressive toward moving objects (like cars and bikes) and dogs (especially small ones that ignite her prey instincts), and has been known to display displaced aggression (in which, in the throws of her aggression, she will turn on anything in her path). Thus, when Lily realized that she was strong enough to use her head/face/teeth to break our fence boards (literally pry them off and chew off pieces of the bottom) and go after the 6 tiny dogs (one of whom is deformed...but that's a whole other story) in the yard next door, quick action was necessary. We are committed to training Lily and to working through her fear and aggression issues, and in the meantime we can't risk her killing the 6 weiner dogs next door and possibly harming their owners (remember that displaced aggression thing) in the process. Enter the electric fence.
For me, this presents a world of conundrums and contradictions: is it worth it to FOR SURE cause pain to my dog to prevent the POSSIBILITY that she would inflict harm on others? Is it worth shocking Lily to prevent the possibility that she might have to be humanely euthanized if she got through the fence? Is it worth shocking Elle - the good dog who has no problem with breaking the fence and trying to kill weiner dogs - to protect Lily?
My conclusion: The answer to these questions right now is "yes". Will that be the answer forever? I don't know...
Contradiction 2: Vegan fare at Thai Spice, El Tiempo, and Dolce Vita - how vegan is vegan?
I ate out 3 times this week: at Thai Spice in Rice Village on Monday, at El Tiempo on Richmond on Thursday, and at Dolce Vita on Westheimer on Friday. By all standards, an exceptionally kick ass week of dining. Here's the thing: I THINK that I was a vegan during this dining experiences, and I just have no idea how to be sure. I believe more in the spirit of veganism while dining out with friends than in the letter of veganism (I'm not trying to throw a fit or get an ingredient list every single place that I go), and I can't decide if I have violated my new code of eating in a way that is fundamental. Do I have to be militant to be vegan? I don't think so...and I'm working on where my personal lines are drawn.
Thai Spice: I consumed Pad Thai with no shrimp, egg, or chicken. Only tofu. It was delicious. Is there fish sauce in Pad Tahi? Is fish sauce vegan? No, right? What sauces can a vegan eat at a thai restaurant? Beer = vegan.
El Tiempo: I ate a) my weight in tortilla chips, b) guacamole, c) "meatless" black beans, and d) poblano rice. First, let me say that the poblano rice was definitely not vegan, as it was covered in cheese that I removed and gave away. The "meatless" black beans tasted A LOT like chicken stock...but who knows? Guacamole is the food of the gods, and - as far as I know - completely, safely vegan. Score. Margarita on the rocks = vegan.
Dolce Vita: One of the first times I was authentically sad to be vegan. Arugula + roasted tomatoe salad and a side of fried baby artichokes really has nothing on pizza with buffala mozzarela and proscuitto. Serrano lime martini = vegan.
Contradiction 2: Vegan fare at Thai Spice, El Tiempo, and Dolce Vita - how vegan is vegan?
I ate out 3 times this week: at Thai Spice in Rice Village on Monday, at El Tiempo on Richmond on Thursday, and at Dolce Vita on Westheimer on Friday. By all standards, an exceptionally kick ass week of dining. Here's the thing: I THINK that I was a vegan during this dining experiences, and I just have no idea how to be sure. I believe more in the spirit of veganism while dining out with friends than in the letter of veganism (I'm not trying to throw a fit or get an ingredient list every single place that I go), and I can't decide if I have violated my new code of eating in a way that is fundamental. Do I have to be militant to be vegan? I don't think so...and I'm working on where my personal lines are drawn.
Thai Spice: I consumed Pad Thai with no shrimp, egg, or chicken. Only tofu. It was delicious. Is there fish sauce in Pad Tahi? Is fish sauce vegan? No, right? What sauces can a vegan eat at a thai restaurant? Beer = vegan.
El Tiempo: I ate a) my weight in tortilla chips, b) guacamole, c) "meatless" black beans, and d) poblano rice. First, let me say that the poblano rice was definitely not vegan, as it was covered in cheese that I removed and gave away. The "meatless" black beans tasted A LOT like chicken stock...but who knows? Guacamole is the food of the gods, and - as far as I know - completely, safely vegan. Score. Margarita on the rocks = vegan.
Dolce Vita: One of the first times I was authentically sad to be vegan. Arugula + roasted tomatoe salad and a side of fried baby artichokes really has nothing on pizza with buffala mozzarela and proscuitto. Serrano lime martini = vegan.
My conclusion: dining out vegan can be lackluster, and at least a tasty beverage is almost always an option to bolster an otherwise less-than-filling meal.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Resolute
New Year's Resolutions
1) Live a mostly vegan lifestyle.
Why the mostly?
a) There are currenly only ugly (super ugly) vegan shoes for sale on Zappos.com, and until the selection improves dramatically I will not throw away or give away my leather shoes. Period.
b) I am intent on eating my wedding cake, which - though technically vegetarian - will hopefully have enough butter to rock my world.
Why the vegan?
a) I read a book. I love books; I read a lot over Winter Break. The book is Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. My sister said that I should read it.
Here's the thing: since I was like, 8, I've heard stories about how KFC grows freak chickens with no beaks that can't walk and about how their toes grow into the cage and they are covered in shit. I really thought that was bullshit (it's not).
When I was in college, I became a vegetarian because it was a more sustainable way of eating (it is). My vegetarianism met a glamorous end with a double bacon cheese burger on a particularly interesting night out.
I bought a home in 2009, and I won't cook meat in my house because it grosses me out. No raw meat is a steadfast rule. I won't drink milk because it grosses me out; I've been drinking soy since I was about 17. I do not buy Lean Cuisines that contain meat. Ever. When I eat out, I eat meat...but that's it...and not always even then.
I believe passionately that justice means ending preventable suffering and wrong-doing the world over. I believe that social justice will be best achieved through education, and I spend approximately 70 hours per week (in and out of school) working toward this end. I believe in justice.
So I read a book about eating animals, and I can't justify to myself eating animals anymore. The book made me take a hard, well-researched look at from where my meat comes...and it's unjust.
In a desperate moment in which I NEEDED to write about my choice and made it public, I wrote a note on facebook (I enjoyed writing this note, which is why I am actually making a post on my blog that I've had for years and never used):
"Every day I am faced with an integrity crisis: a disconnect between what I believe and the way in which I eat. I know - have known for a long time - that from where my meat comes is not pretty. Is not good for the environment. Is not sustainable. Is not ok. I've been choosing to ignore it, and it just...can't.
I care about from where my food comes, and I believe that all animals deserve a cruelty-free life and a humane death. It's not just because I love my dogs and I can't imagine inflicting the hoorors on them that are inflicted on animals raised for food; it's because I believe that unnecessary and preventable suffering is wrong. Period. No matter what the species.
I'm not fundamentally opposed to eating animals, and I am opposed to the way in which most animals that are readily available and that I can afford to eat are raised and killed, as it is neither cruelty-free nor humane. I know that animals raised well and killed humanely exist. I also know that my ability to access those animals for my consumption is extremely limited (and often out of my price range). That's not ideal, and it's real.
I care about the world that I will someday leave to my students, my children, and my students' and children's children, and for that reason I cannot condone factory farming, it's use of antibiotics, its widespread pollution, and its role in putting the world at risk for a pandemic.
I'm not saying I'll never be a selective omnivore. I'm saying that for now, I care too much about the world to go on eating meat and eggs as if it's no big deal. It is a big deal, and it's not ok."
So now I'm a vegan. It's hard, and it's easier than I expected.
I'm not saying you're a bad person if you're not a vegan...except kind of I am. Sorry.
2) Communicate more effectively.
This has several subparts.
a) Respond to communication within 24 hours. Even if it's my grandma or my biological father (both of whom I routinely ignore for weeks on end...so not proud of this confession). This also goes for parent phone calls that I love to avoid (which only get worse if avoided, trust me) and my dog trainer (whom I am briefly firing until summer when I actually have time to dog train).
b) Decrease my use of profanity in non-work settings, especially home. The fact that I cannot use cuss words in front of teenagers in my job basically transforms me into a sailor at home. While I like to delude myself into thinking that this is (at least occasionally) quirky and charming, it's really not. Le sigh.
c) Be Fierce (please, if you have not done so, purchase Fierce Conversations by Susan Scott YESTERDAY and read it RIGHT NOW). In particular, I am going to tackle my toughest challenge TODAY (metaphorically today...), which is Principle 4 (and the one I looove to run from). I've got to man up and tell my biological father he's not walking me down the aisle (which I did not expect there to be ANY confusion over...and yet there is). Note: if you know him, please do not mention my blog post.
I expect that over the course of the next year, I will need to be Fierce a lot. By 2012 I will be married (getting to the wedding alone with take a huge degree of Fierce-ness with my family), have a new last name (btw...if you are even THINKING of changing your name after you get married and if you are even THINKING of getting married to your current significant other then you should snag that g-mail address RIGHT NOW because I almost had to be leah.peters48754 or something), have 2 well-trained dogs (please, god), be a mostly vegan, and have sur-thrived (I made this word up right now) another year as a high school principal (more like an Dean or Assistant Principal/AP, for those not in the know).
and
d) When I receive information (which we all do, all day long), I will do so actively. I have spent a lot of my life passively receiving information, and I've been either lucky or late when I relay the information that I receive (Eric will really laugh if he reads this). I will ask myself the following questions about information that I receive, and I will disseminate accordingly:
- To whom must this information go?
- How much should be shared?
- By when?
- (and most importantly) How? Do I need to do this face to face? Phone call? Over e-mail? Is urgency or empathy more important?
A Confession
Part of the reason that I'm going to start blogging is that my semester is going to suck. I'm going to do my damnedest to kick this semester's ass, and I acknowledge that it will suck. (I am trying not to fail at using less profanity.) A confession about me is this: I want to do everything because I believe I can do anything. I also believe that ANYONE can do ANYTHING, which is part of why I loooove to teach...and that's neither here nor there right now.
I am working full time as a high school principal. In addition, I teach Algebra II (at least it's only one period), am a Grade Level Chair (at least it's the smallest grade level BY FAR), and will be taking a more active role in managing Stu Co (at least it's only one semester and most of the events are already laid out).
I am a full-time grad student. 12 hours, 4 classes (at least one is independent study...too bad it's the thesis class). I will have class Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday nights from 5:30pm until 8:30pm.
I am resolute that I can do this, and I will need to write about it to be ok...so here we are.
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