Coping as an Animal Advocate: How to take care of ourselves and remain effective (PART I)

I'm continually amazed and touched by the emails I receive from people, who share their stories of transformation and express their enthusiasm and joy about becoming awakened - about becoming vegan. But I also hear their sorrow and their weariness.

In a recent podcast episode, I addressed how to cope with the pain of the awareness of animal suffering and also how to be an effective advocate for animals, because I think these things go hand in hand. I address some of this in an earlier episode called Taking it All In, so I encourage people to check that out first. Among the many emails I receive, two recently stood out, inspiring me to revisit this topic.

One email was from Misty, who wrote “I am a new vegan and have literally been attacked in all sorts of verbal arguments. Everything from - no wonder you look sick (which I don't) to why don't you care about babies? You have given me so much ammo so that I don't have to resort to arguments. But I have a question. It is overwhelming all of the information I have learned. About animal suffering, and the humans that suffer along that are involved in the killing and processing of animals. How do you deal with that awareness? I lived in misinformation for so long - or maybe it was denial - and now that I know - I have a very hard time dealing with it. I feel anxious or depressed and try to stretch myself to do every little thing I could possibly do to reduce my impact, or tell someone about it.”

Another email was from Beatriz: "Today I listened in incredible pain to your podcast on fishing bycatch.... As an avid scuba diver, who has spent many hours underwater sharing the wonderful ocean with beautiful marine species, I cannot tell you how excruciatingly depressing it was for me to hear you quote the agonising facts and figures on over fishing, bycatch killings and atrocious effects that the fishing industry is having on the wonderful lives below the surface. Nothing on your podcast was new to me. What really pained was to realise what little difference I, as an individual, and a few thousands like me, can make to this dismal situation. I truly feel that what I do, what you do, what many like us try to do, has hardly any true effect on the atrocious actions that the fishing industry and governments carry though every day. I feel like we are as small flea trying to shift an elephant. How do you do it, Colleen? Where do you get the energy to continue fighting on every day? Don't you get depressed and feel like giving up because you feel that your efforts hardly make a difference? I certainly feel like that. I will of course continue with my efforts every single day, but I have resigned myself to think that whatever I chose to do, the world around me will continue to charge ahead with its destruction.”

So, these two emails compelled me to address this issue again. I’m sure you can see why. It just pains me so much to hear that kind of despair and frustration. And as usual, I don’t have all the answers. All I can do is share with you what *I* do and have done to cope in this crazy, mixed up world that seems bent on destroying the lives and homes of everyone who isn’t human – and some who are.

CRY

First things first. I cry. I absolutely let myself feel this stuff. It probably helps that I don’t smoke or drink, so I feel this stuff pretty acutely. There’s no numbing or avoiding this pain. A really lovely woman named Victoria – a new vegan – who recently wrote to me phrased this really beautifully (and in fact you can read Victoria’s story at the Joyful Vegan blog). She wrote, “Right now, sorrow for the creatures who endure unthinkable suffering is large for me. But I am grateful for the sorrow, which is real, and is part of awakening further to life.” I don’t know if this makes sense, but there’s something comforting about being able to feel that grief, to feel that pain, to feel that sorrow, because I would choose that over oblivion any day.

Ironically, my favorite books, music, and films tend to be somewhat – okay VERY – melancholy. It’s just what I’m drawn to. I really like stories about people struggling for justice, which means you’re gonna see a lot of injustice in the telling. These stories make me sad, but they also motivate me. That doesn’t mean I watch sad movies JUST so I can feel the sorrow, cause Lord knows I don’t need anymore reasons than I already have. But I guess I just feel okay – I feel comfortable enough to feel the sadness.

KNOW YOUR LIMITATIONS

This also doesn’t mean I watch sad movies all the time, and it certainly doesn’t mean I watch the videos of animal torture all the time. Please don’t get me wrong. That’s not what I’m saying at all. As I said, I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just telling you what I do, and I know you’re smart enough to filter through it and take from it what works for you and leave behind the rest. I absolutely listen to myself when it comes to deciding what I can take on any given day. There are some videos I wait to watch, because I might be too vulnerable or sensitive some days, and there are some I haven’t brought myself to watch yet.. I have a VERY visual mind, so I just have to be careful. For instance, I haven’t been able to watch Earthlings yet – a documentary on animal exploitation narrated by Joaquin Phoenix. I hear it’s excruciatingly painful but also VERY effective. I know I’ll watch it someday; in fact I own it, but I just have to be in a good place before I do.

Now do I think I’m less of an activist for not having watched these videos? No. I’m no less effective for not having watched these particular videos. I just ordered a new DVD of a film made in 1981 called The Animals Film. It was narrated by Julie Christie and receives rave reviews – not just by activists – but by film critics as well. It was made in the U.K., which is where the western animal rights movement started, so it’s no surprise it received the critical attention it did, but I plan on watching this film. Perhaps it helped that I watched the trailer on the website, which you can visit (it’s http://www.theanimalsfilm.com/). You can watch the trailer there or buy it as well. Now, I watched the trailer, and it was very painful. I cried. But then I just got to work. So, to answer Beatriz – I don’t know how I do it. I just know that I can’t but act when I see this stuff or hear about this stuff. When I hear about the horror it doesn’t make me want to crawl up under the covers; it makes me want to shout from the rooftops. I think I may have mentioned I used to do a lot of Street TV, where I would bring a TV to the streets of Berkeley, play PETA’s video Meet Your Meat and hand out Why Vegan pamphlets. I’ve seen that video a million times, and though you can never get “used to” seeing something like that, I have to say it does get easier. Remember, we’re pretty amazing creatures when it comes to denial and compartmentalizing our feelings and cutting off our emotions. So, for the purposes of that type of activism, it’s a survival mechanism, a defense mechanism for me to turn it off a bit so I can be effective. It’s like when I record some reeeally painful things so that I can share them with you. I HAVE to distance myself a bit; otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this work. Then, when I need to, I have a good cry. In fact, if you wanna know a secret, I usually cry once or twice when I’m working on this podcast. Then, I finish – and get to work. :)

But – everyone’s different. A really good friend of mine – one of my best friends – did Street TV with me a few times, and on the night we were going to do one, she called to say she didn’t think she was able to do it but then she decided to do it and she wanted to tell me why. She said she thought that the images produced trauma in people –in passersby, in children, in anyone who saw those images and she didn’t know that she felt comfortable being part of creating trauma. BTW, my friend works in the mental health field, so she’s a witness to trauma every day. Anyway, but then she had a revelation – that those very same images were very traumatic for her and that it was that very trauma that opened up so much for her and led her to become vegan in order to reduce animal suffering. I thought that was a really wise perspective – of course this stuff is traumatic, and it’s what many of us needed to knock ourselves into consciousness and become part of the solution. So I dug a little deeper. Part of the word trauma stems from the Indo-European word meaning “to turn.” So, I thought that was interesting – in a sense, the trauma of the truth literally turns us – changes us. For the better, in my opinion.

Now, I do think it’s necessary to consider the energy levels with which we come into this world. I mean I do think there are things we can do to raise our existing energy levels, but some of us just have higher or lower energy levels than others. I’ve always had an extremely high energy level, so I have to push myself reeeally hard to get drained. I’ve always been action-oriented and a problem-solver, so I actually thrive on being active – on being part of the solution. So, when I watch these videos or read about the atrocities, I really do have a good cry, but then I feel even more motivated to make a change. In fact, that’s probably one of the dangers of watching this stuff for me – I wind up working harder, which is not always good, because I struggle with finding balance all the time.

So, just to wrap up this point: I think it’s important to be really clear about what your limitations are and to know where your line is. I hate to think Beatriz became depressed after my podcast, so maybe if you know an episode is about a topic that might cause you pain, then maybe it’s better to avoid it. If you feel like reading more or witnessing more cruelty would actually DRAIN your energy, then don’t do it. Absolutely don’t do it. If you feel like you’re okay with it sometimes but not others – then just be really honest with yourself about when those times are. Being an advocate for animals doesn’t mean that you become a martyr. That’s not what this is about at all. It’s about being a voice for animals. And part of that means taking care of yourself. If you’re unwell, or unhealthy, or angry, or depressed, or in despair, or without joy, you’re helping neither yourself nor are you helping animals. Know thyself. And know thy limitations.

Hypothetical Hype

Those of you familiar with my regular essays and podcasts know that one of my favorite pastimes is to respond to the myths about animals rights and vegetarianism. We create so many justifications to continue eating animals that we don't even notice that most of them don't even reflect reality; they're just hypothetical scenarios that enable us to hold fast to a particular perception of ourselves. I remember creating one or two myself before I thought long and hard about what I was contributing to. When I got really honest with myself about how lame my excuses were, I stopped - eating animals and making excuses. That decision was the best one I ever made, and it has filled my life with meaning and purpose.

So here is one of my favorites. I'll feature more in the coming weeks.

-"I don't have a problem with animals being killed for food, but I don't want to support the torture and abuse that take place on factory farms. In fact, I think I could even humanely kill my own animals to cause the least amount of suffering." I realize there are people who feel this way, and though I disagree with the premise (because I, personally, do have a problem with animals being killed for human consumption), that's not my issue with this statement. My problem has to do with the fact that it rests on hypotheticals:

1. This person isn't raising and killing her own animals, and by virtue of that, she is, unfortunately, contributing to the abuse and torture of animals.

2. What people don't realize is that even on the most idealized farms, animals are not lovingly and "humanely euthanized" when they're fat enough for the dinner table. They are sent to the same dirty slaughterhouses as "conventionally raised" animals. It's not legal for ranchers to kill their own animals (unless they're going to eat them themselves) and sell them to the public. The transportation alone is incredibly stressful (and often fatal) for the animals, and the slaughterhouse itself is a place of fear, pain, blood, and death.

3. I have seen what would be considered "humane slaughter," all I saw was an animal struggling to fight for her life. She did not want to die. She did not want her head removed. She did not want the blade to touch her body. As the blood drained from her, all I could remember was that line in Tim Robbins' film Dead Man Walking, when Sister Prejean lamented at how "calculated" the killing [of the deathrow inmate] was. The systematic execution of human beings is no different than that of animals - even in the most "idealized" situation, it is still messy, bloody, deliberate, painful, and unnecessary.

When we rely on hypotheticals to justify real-life situations, it is only because we want to hold onto a perception of ourselves that may or may not be true. I don't believe any of us want to consciously and willingly contribute to abuse or torture. But, there just isn't any way of getting around it when we eat meat. If we can't tell ourselves the truth about what we're supporting, then we need to ask ourselves what we're avoiding. Until then, we're not living in Truth - neither our own or that of the real world.

Those of us who have stopped eating animals aren't off the hook, either. Every time we hear someone justifying eating animals, we have an opportunity to reflect the truth. There are gentle, respectful ways of doing this, but there is no question that we must do it. The animals need us as their voice. If not you, then who?