How I Made the Connection: Gay Rights, Feminism, and Animal Liberation
Dani Rukin, citizen journalist for JaneUnchained News
“Human beings see oppression vividly when they’re the victims. Otherwise, they victimize blindly and without a thought.”
—Isaac Bashevis Singer
Prior to 2016, if you had told me I’d be a vegan animal rights activist, I would have said you had the wrong person. I didn’t quite know what a vegan was other than an extreme version of a vegetarian, and someone who took themselves a little too seriously. Years ago, I had a vegan girlfriend while living in New York City, and I never asked her why she was vegan. All I remember was complaining to friends “She doesn’t even eat honey! Honey!” And then there was the time my longtime vegetarian friend finally started eating meat again when she got pregnant. I was thrilled. No more hassle chowing down together.
In college I was an out, loud, and proud lesbian who, at eighteen, moved to San Francisco and cofounded AGLA (Alliance for Gay and Lesbian Awareness). We fought hard for, and lost, the right to meet on the University of San Francisco’s Jesuit-run campus. Among many failed tactics, we held a rally with then-renowned San Francisco supervisors Carol Ruth Silver and Harry Britt, speaking out in support of our civil rights. The faculty and student council both voted to ban our group from becoming officially recognized, because, in their words, homosexuality was a sin. We argued that we weren’t asking for the right to form the group to “commit the sin,” we were demanding our civil rights not to be denied from forming a recovery and progress (RAP) and support group based on our sexual orientation.
Historically, the argument for justifying discrimination against any individual or group stems from the notion that those being discriminated against are, in some prejudicial way, viewed as inferior, and therefore underserving of equal treatment. Throughout past and present civilization, “different but equal” has not been an easily digestible notion for many. “Can’t we all just get along?” Apparently not.
When it comes to justice for humans, the most socially, emotionally, and spiritually conscious among us are quick to defend the marginalized yet ignore the legitimate suffering of animals. Racism, sexism, homophobia, and xenophobia are all socially agreed-upon parasites of the human heart and mind, and refuting these prejudices is an acceptable indicator of an “evolved” understanding and an appreciation of diversity and inclusion. Yet, most of those very same people, when confronted with their own socially conditioned use and abuse of nonhuman animals, will defend their right to eat animals despite knowing the suffering and anguish the animals go through. Seeing ourselves as the oppressor is not so easy.
It wasn’t until I came out against using animals for food, clothing, research, and entertainment that I understood the concept of speciesism—the presumption that humans are superior to animals, which conveniently justifies our exploitation of them. Isn’t that the key ingredient to any rationale that allows one group to oppress another?
I spent the eighties riding motorcycles in my custom leather biker jacket, 501® jeans with the requisite chain of keys dangling from my belt loop, and sporting a rebellious “boi” haircut. I eventually left the conservative USF for progressive San Francisco State University, filling my course credits with women’s studies classes—anthropology, history, literature, and politics from a woman’s and WoC’s perspective. I was no stranger to activism and speaking truth to power. I’ve always had an insatiable hunger for the truth. Fast-forward decades later, and I went from a passionate voice for gay and lesbian rights chanting “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it!” at Dyke Marches and Pride parades, to an outspoken animal rights activist shouting, “It’s not food, it’s violence!”
It was in fall 2015 that I was having dinner with a friend who was upset about an elephant in a zoo in Pakistan who had been chained in a dilapidated concrete shed for twenty-eight years. Like most, I was appalled but felt helpless to do anything, let alone have a clue what the “anything” would have been. She told me about an online petition circulating to free him to a sanctuary, and I agreed to sign it even though I didn’t believe it would actually make a difference. Twenty-seven thousand signatures later, the zoo responded to the outside pressure by unchaining Kaavan and giving him (slightly) better care. And although the fight to free this elephant continues, it catalyzed my interest in not only the welfare of this particular captive wild animal, but in elephants in general. Like many Westerners, I didn’t know much about these larger-than-life pachyderms other than they lived far away in the wild, unless they were in a zoo. I did ride an elephant twenty years ago while in Thailand, expecting it to be a “memory of a lifetime,” but instead it left me feeling unexplainably melancholy. The elephants seemed downtrodden. Still, I shook it off and didn’t return my thoughts to it until decades later. I became engrossed in learning everything I could about these gentle giants. It was like cramming a decade of intensive research and knowledge into one semester. I could not get enough of these majestic creatures. Not yet vegan, I testified before our city council members on behalf of the elephants confined in the local zoo, arguing that elephants are not designed to live in captivity and that there is no humane way to imprison, breed, and use other sentient beings for entertainment. In my testimony, I likened their plight to that of a slave, who can be defined as “someone who is the property of, and wholly subject to another, and entirely under the domination of some person.” Elephants belong in the wild. And the remaining captive elephants belong in accredited elephant sanctuaries so they can live out the rest of their lives in peace and dignity. Our plea before the council was not for larger enclosures, but for the total abolition of capturing, buying, selling, trading, and imprisoning elephants and other wild animals for any reason.
Before the Civil War, the goal of the abolitionist movement was the immediate emancipation of those enslaved. At the time abolitionists were viewed as radicals. Any cause of great historical importance was considered extreme while in its resistance stage. As Captain Paul Watson, founder of Sea Shepherd, has said “If you want to know where you would have stood on slavery before the Civil War, don’t look at where you stand on slavery today. Look at where you stand on animal rights.”
Looking back, I can see how, in my testifying for the emancipation of elephants, I was building the case for my own veganism. I could not be against the abuse of elephants if I was paying for the confinement, breeding, exploitation, and killing of other animals. This was my “aha” moment. Elephants were my “gateway animal” into veganism. In my deeper dive into learning about the rampant and worldwide abuse of elephants, I came across footage and images of the abuse of other animals, including the extreme cruelty toward “food” animals and, as much as I wanted to look away, I could not. I understood the slaughtering of animals to be cruel, but considered it a necessary evil. How else were we going to get our protein? I was trying my best to eat mostly “humane meat,” which in hindsight was not as often as I wanted to believe. Not to mention, how do you humanely kill someone who does not want to die? After educating myself about what was really going on in the multibillion-dollar meat, dairy, and egg industries, I could no longer justify eating anything from an animal and live with myself. Like us, they feel pain and fear, pleasure and joy, anxiety and loneliness, and want to live and love as much as we do. It’s impossible to morally justify being the cause of violence and suffering toward anyone. Like any moment of truth, I stood at the turning point and chose love, justice, and truth. I went vegan.
I immediately wanted to share my life-changing epiphany with friends and everyone on social media. I was sure that once they saw the horrors of animals suffering, and learned that animal agriculture was a leading cause of climate change and that animal products are terrible for our health, they would also transition to veganism. But they didn’t. In fact, no matter how I approached the conversation, I was often told I was being inappropriate or that it wasn’t the right time to bring it up. As it turned out, there never seemed to be a good time or approach. Meanwhile, the animals continued to suffer . . . by the billions.
That otherwise good and kind people were unwilling to open their minds and hearts to the plight of other sentient beings was disheartening. I laid out the facts and made myself available to help anyone transition, yet they didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, many people I had known for years stopped following me on social media—they said my posts were offensive and stopped inviting me to anything.
Just as coming out as a lesbian in the seventies was a radical act, so was coming out as an ethical vegan decades later. Speaking truth to power has never been easily received by the status quo. Coming out as anything that threatens whatever is considered the norm is challenging for society. When I came out decades ago, although my family was “accepting,” I encountered the not-uncommon attitude that I should avoid disrupting the family system and not be so vocal about it. I was made to feel that my being gay was somehow lower in status than their “superior” heteronormative lifestyle. Years later, returning to family gatherings as an ethical vegan has been just as upsetting for them: “Here she goes again with her wacky theories and lifestyle.” I’m a truth seeker, so “It’s always been this way” has never been a good enough reason to accept something as just or true.
All of us should be encouraged to search within and explore what we think, feel, and believe; otherwise we are just robotically following rules that, at best, are not aligned with our values and, worse, may not be morally justifiable. We know from history that just because something is legal doesn’t make it right. And just because something is illegal doesn’t make it wrong. “Gay marriage” was illegal, but two people of the same sex being able to marry and create a life and family together isn’t wrong.
Most don’t think twice about the fact that we are inundated with and surrounded by images of heterosexuality on billboards, TV shows, movies, and in magazines and advertising—everywhere you turn, the storyline is male/female love and desire. As soon as there’s a lesbian peck on the lips on a sitcom, we’re accused of pushing the gay agenda. The same goes for veganism. Carnism, defined by psychologist Melanie Joy as “the invisible belief system, or ideology, that conditions people to eat certain animals” dominates our global mainstream thought system. We are surrounded by images of meat and dairy on billboards and in commercials, and fast-food restaurants line the streets of America. Yet when someone identifies as vegan, they risk being told to stop pushing their views, are often shunned, and are viewed by some as attention-seeking troublemakers. Why do we feel the need to “flaunt our lifestyle?” Why not just keep it to ourselves? I can’t count how many times conversations have been cut short as soon as I bring up veganism.
Just as disheartening was the reaction I got from many longtime lesbian feminist friends when I “came out” as vegan. While at an all-gay New Year’s Eve party, various women asked what I was up to, so I told them about my vegan journey, and even asked for their thoughts on it. It did not go over well. The next day my friend said to me about my veganism, “It feels a little obsessive. It has me a little worried, actually.” She also happened to be a former decades-long vegetarian.
The very same women who had paid many dues for being lesbians in a homophobic world were unwilling to hear about the reality of dairy—that cows are forcibly and repeatedly impregnated, separated from their calves at birth, and hooked up to painful milk machines so that we can drink the milk that is meant for their babies. As feminists, we say rape is rape. None of these animals reproduce by choice. They are all sexually violated. It is the ultimate patriarchy.
That progressive lesbian women were not receptive to the conversation of animal agriculture being based on the exploitation of the female reproductive system shows how conditioned we are to be obedient consumers. Their response was along the lines of, “I love your passion. But can you please not talk about it?” and, “There’s a fine line between passion and fanaticism.” One of my friends said, “You no longer need to discuss this topic with me. This is your passion and you’ll find your tribe to reach the goals you envision.”
There I was at an all-lesbian party, and I felt like a gay at a Mike Pence affair where I had the audacity to assert that “all people should have the right to love and marry whomever they want” and then was told I was being aggressive. The mentality is the same: “Don’t rock my perfectly constructed world with any inconvenient truths. Don’t shatter my self-perception of being an evolved, compassionate person with the breaking news that killing is not compassion.”
Those against slavery were called radicals, extremists, and even obsessive. They were told they were upsetting the natural order. They certainly would’ve ruined a dinner party if they said nobody should own another human being as property. Women who were outspoken for women’s right to vote were told to go back to where they belong—the kitchen. They were accused of upsetting the natural order and disrupting cocktail parties with their ridiculous chatter. Those who claimed that being gay is a natural state of being were pathologized and classified as having a mental disorder.
Every time we try to move society forward and expand our circle of compassion to include those who are different than us and ask people to put themselves in the shoes of the exploited, there will be pushback from those unwilling to open their minds and hearts to the impact of their actions. It can be painful to look at ourselves when we are in the role of the oppressor, given how much we detest this quality in others who are oppressing those more vulnerable than themselves.
If I’m told to stay quiet about the truth of dairy with progressive feminists and lesbians, what hope do we have for humankind? I even had a feminist lesbian friend who identified as “mostly vegan” and who believed that “eating plant-based” was a personal choice for everyone, say to me on social media “What happened to you? You used to be kind?” Speaking truth to power in an oppressive society will always be considered unkind. But the pressing reality of the animals’ plight and my increasing awareness of speciesism made me realize much more needs to be done to break the centuries-long belief that animals are here for us to use.
Animal rights activists are often met with arrogance and willful ignorance when trying to help others connect the dots. As most activists will tell you, the depth and breadth of animals’ suffering weighs on us heavily, and we can expect to encounter many dark nights of the soul. At six months vegan, one of those dark moments got me to walk into a supermarket and, using the meat department as my platform, disrupt the status quo to speak out for the 60 billion animals who are killed every year for “food” (and that’s not counting fish, which brings that number to the trillions). That “solo demo” was recorded on a phone by another activist and sparked a widespread conversation on social media from all sides. I continue to do these speak-outs, as well as film other activists doing theirs. The animals cannot wait for us to have sporadic one-on-one chats and a brochure exchange with every individual.
Going into establishments where there is violence against animals, alone or in groups, and disrupting is one of the many powerful ways to convey the message that animals’ lives are their right and that killing them is violent and unjust no matter how it’s done. Doing direct actions with other activists inside meat-centric gastropub that I used to frequent has been one of the many ironies of my journey. Not too long ago I would have been one of the annoyed customers who would have been thinking “get a life,” which we’re often told.
Early on in my activism, while at an animal rights conference, I was introduced to nationally known TV journalist Jane Velez-Mitchell, who had recently launched JaneUnChained News Network (JNN), a fast-growing digital media outlet producing original videos about animal rights and the vegan lifestyle. I attended her workshop on using smartphones as a way to show the world what’s happening to animals. Shortly thereafter, I became a citizen journalist for JaneUnChained and have been traveling the globe reporting on a wide range of stories, events, organizations, and programs to spread the vegan message. We need to find it inside ourselves to care about all injustices and inequalities, no matter who is being exploited. No one should get to decide that someone is more deserving of rights than another. As for anything of moral consequence, it’s never just a personal choice when there’s a victim. It’s not about what you’re eating. It’s about who you’re eating.
There is much injustice in the world and many complex problems that require even more complex solutions; what’s unique about veganism is that for those of us who have agency over what we eat, going vegan is the smallest thing we can do to make the greatest difference. And going vegan does not preclude anyone from working on behalf of other marginalized groups. It’s not a zero-sum game. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” We need to expand our circle of compassion to include animals. The only thing more dangerous than ignorance is indifference. Just because an atrocity is not happening to you or those close to you doesn’t mean you don’t have a moral obligation to do something. History shows most will not speak out until it happens to them. Is that the kind of world we want to live in?
To anyone who is curious about what it’s like to align your actions with your values, to get out of your comfort zone for the purpose of something greater than yourself, to dedicate your life to alleviate the suffering of the most abused among us, on a scale and magnitude unrivaled by all other atrocities combined in human history, consider going vegan and becoming an animal rights activist. It does wonders for your soul. The cruelty that dare not speak its name is hidden in plain sight, and, until their voices are heard, more and more of us will continue to raise ours. Silence is the voice of complicity.