ANIMAL LIBERATION TIME
By now I’d become a vegetarian. I’d always been an animal lover and a very reluctant meat eater. Sometimes I hid a bag under the dinner table. I would take the meat off the plate and put it into the bag or, if my mother was watching, I would put the meat in my mouth for a couple of seconds and then it would go in the bag when she turned away. Then I would either throw it away or give it to some wild dogs.
Everything changed the day I had a boy-to-woman talk with my mother across the dinner table around the age of eleven. At first it was genuine curiosity. I asked her where she’d got the meat from and she said the butcher. So I asked where the butcher had got it from, and she said the farmer. So I asked where the farmer got it from, and she said he got it from the cow. I thought, what a clever cow, and then I asked, ‘What is the cow doing with meat?’
She said, ‘You silly boy, this is the cow!’
I was horrified. I had never connected the meat on the plate with the cow in the field. I pushed all the meat in my reach away from me and said, ‘I won’t eat my friends’, and that was the last day I ate meat. I subsequently learned that George Bernard Shaw had said exactly the same thing, but at the time I’d never heard of him. I wanted to express my disgust at eating dead bodies, and my love of animals.
Imagine a school playground. I think the general sound that comes from a playground is fantastic: the joyous noise of hundreds of kids playing, having fun and seeking pleasure. But if you are alone in a corner of that playground because none of the other kids will play with you, it’s the loneliest place in the world. When I was in that place I made friends with animals. A cat came along one day, and we hung out together. He came the next day and we played a little catch, then the next day he brought a few friends along. I also made friends with caterpillars, and by the pond I talked to frogs. They didn’t judge me because of the colour of my skin, and they weren’t planning to fight me after school.
Although I said I wasn’t going to eat animals, people still tried to feed me meat. At school I’d have just potatoes and veg (usually peas), and the dinner ladies would attempt to pour meaty gravy all over it, saying, ‘It’s only gravy, it’s not the actual animal.’ But I wouldn’t have any of it. I stuck to my principles and only accepted the carbs and veg. I don’t remember that as being such a struggle. What I do remember is when I went vegan at the age of thirteen.
I worked it out for myself that mothers produced milk for their children, and not for the children of others, especially others of another species. As soon as I’d sussed that out I stopped drinking milk and consuming all dairy products. I hadn’t been to any meetings; I hadn’t read any vegan magazines – there weren’t any. I just didn’t want to take from animals. I didn’t realise at the time that the term for my stance was ‘vegan’. That knowledge came soon after, when somebody asked me if I wanted an ice cream. I told them I didn’t eat ice cream because I didn’t eat any animal products. And this other kid said, ‘You’re a vegan.’
I thought he was insulting me and replied, ‘Who are you calling names? Do you want a slap?’ I went for him, and he screamed, ‘No, no, vegans are nice.’
When I first heard the word it sounded strange. Some years later I learned that a guy called Donald Watson had coined it in 1944, when he took the middle out of the word vegetarian.
I always loved sweets, but so many brands, especially back then, had animal products in them. I liked things like Wagon Wheels, lollipops and fruit and nut bars, but I gave them up until vegan options became available. Now I can eat them whenever I like as, of course, the options for vegans have never been better than they are now.
I have always been proud of the fact that my choices weren’t based on being fashionable or following a movement; they came from my soul, and I was vegan by instinct. Later on I’d meet Rastas who were also committed to this path, although they didn’t call it vegan, they called it ‘ital’. Some people take that to mean ‘nice and healthy’, even when they eat fish, but ital should mean strictly vegan.
People tell me they think it’s amazing I went vegan at such a young age. It didn’t feel ‘amazing’ to me – it felt right then and it feels right now. I don’t eat in places that serve meat and I don’t allow meat in my house. At times it has been difficult when I’ve been travelling, but there’s no such thing as no vegan option. There’s always some rice and veg somewhere. Even if I have to eat bland foods for a while, I always think, It’s only for a week or two.
Later on in life I realised there were vegan organisations and groups of people that cared so much about what was happening to animals that they were prepared to do something about it. I became active as soon as I could. As with my attitude to human rights issues, my bottom line is that you can’t just be a poet or writer and say your activism is simply writing about these things; you have to do something as well, especially if your public profile can be put to good use.
Since understanding the work of the animal rights movement I have always thought them to be the most dedicated of liberation movements. Let’s be honest: most of the people fighting for women’s rights will be women, most of the people fighting for aboriginal rights will be aboriginal, many of the people fighting for the rights of low-paid workers will be low-paid workers etc. But all the people fighting for the rights of animals are human. Their struggles have not an ounce of selfishness or self-interest attached; they truly campaign for those who cannot speak themselves. Their struggle is the ultimate struggle, because it is for the liberation of others.
I have supported Uncaged, the National Organisation Working Against Live Exports, PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), VIVA (Vegetarians’ International Voice for Animals), NAVS (National Anti-Vivisection Society) and many others, including of course the Vegan Society, of which I am a patron and a life member, but the people I most admired were the ALF, the Animal Liberation Front. I told someone this once and, not long afterwards, she invited me to go on an ALF operation, a ‘live liberation’. This is where they enter a laboratory, liberate the animals and take them to safe homes or, if needs be, to vets. I jumped at the opportunity.
The ALF film their work and the activists wear masks, but on the night that didn’t work for me. Beneath the mask you could still see my dreadlocks and hear my voice, which everyone says is quite distinctive. At one point, when I held a liberated rabbit in my arms, I almost burst into poetry, but the other people on the operation kept telling me to shut up. We were successful but afterwards I was advised to stick to my normal mode of struggle and not go on another operation. I was too recognisable. So I continued to work in other areas for them. But I still think merely writing about it isn’t enough; you have to be active.