Activism as a Fast Track to Growth: My Spiritual Awakening

Zafir Molina, truth seeker and movement artist

For the past few years, I have been deeply affected by the suffering that humans inflict on animals. Long before I was vegan, my mother influenced me to consider the feelings of animals, such as speaking about the cruelty in animal entertainment. When I wanted to take my little sister to the circus, she wouldn’t let me because of the abuse that elephants and other animals experience. I told her she was exaggerating and dismissed it, thinking that it was a thing of the past. It seemed so cruel that it was hard to believe anyone in this day and age would support it.

Later, I became vegetarian, but after listening to a TED Talk called “Toward Rational, Authentic Food Choices” by psychologist Melanie Joy, I made the connection and decided to go vegan. She proposed a question that I couldn’t answer: “Why do you eat certain animals and could never imagine eating others?” I knew why I wouldn’t eat some, but couldn’t justify why I had eaten others. She then showed slaughterhouse footage, and it was at that moment I realized that I was part of the violence. We were senselessly murdering animals, and it hurt me to watch. This was a contradiction to what I felt was right and wrong, and this contradiction would lead me to question everything. As I walked around in shock with an unknown feeling that my life had just changed, I would hold myself accountable for my actions and make sure that I was no longer the reason anyone was suffering based on who they were and what they looked like. I couldn’t say that I didn’t know anymore, and the more I learned, the worse I felt. The truth was so dark that it brought intense feelings of anger, disbelief, and loneliness.

Because my perspective had shifted, seeing “nonprofitable” newborn piglets killed by being slammed onto a cement floor was traumatic. I saw sheep forcefully inseminated by being placed on machinery that held their legs open, then moved around like objects with no regard to what they were feeling. I experienced states of shock, and reality didn’t make sense. Being empathetic to the suffering of nonhuman animals hurt. Other times I felt numb, as I tried to fathom that it was happening to trillions of animals all over the world. Most days I feel extreme frustration. We are funding animal cruelty, killing the planet, and killing ourselves—for taste, for pleasure, and for money. We have been indoctrinated to believe that we own animals, that they are here for us—that they are property.

I had eaten animals for twenty-nine years of my life. Although I was never a big “meat eater” (probably my intuition speaking), I never once thought about the process. I knew I was eating an animal, but when I saw animals in person, I never thought of eating them. I was completely disconnected from what was actually happening. I was taught that animal flesh, eggs, and dairy were healthy until I came to realize that it’s all a business, a system of greed justifying violence. It’s all done for money, not survival, not need, not health, and not for the people. I was showed glamorized violence instead of being told that cows are put in rape racks, artificially inseminated, their babies taken away from them.

When I was seventeen, I went to my home country of Bolivia to visit my dad. He lived in a rural area where they killed animals for food. I never witnessed a killing, but my dad, being the sarcastic man he was, decided to tell me I was eating the baby goat I had interacted with the day before. I remember being appalled; the thought of it was extremely disturbing. Yet I continued to eat the flesh. Now I realize that instinctually I knew it was wrong, and I was so disturbed by it because I had shared a moment with that goat, with someone. But the normalization of eating these “foods” made me think that this was just the way things were, this convenient “circle of life” or “top of the food chain” idea.

When I became an activist, I began to show the cruelty behind animal agriculture and tried to provide solutions, but it seemed like so many weren’t motivated to make the change. I understood it was disconnection—similar to what I had experienced with the goat—yet it was still so difficult to accept. We are people who value our rights, but some of our choices have victims; what about their rights? Injustice exists when one group bends the rules to benefit their side. The perspective that animals are lesser than because they aren’t human is speciesism. Everywhere I look now, I see hypocrisy. People demanding justice, while at the same time causing someone else to suffer. We desire peace and love, yet our actions fund the opposite.

My intuition, even as a child, was too strong not to speak up about injustices, including the exploitation of life. As early as I can remember, I was always sensitive to unfairness, but was told life was not fair. I was rebellious when it came to the rules of society: how to be a “real” man and “real” woman, how to love, who to love, and how to look. I remember in middle school I hadn’t shaved my legs “good enough,” so a boy teased me. I told him to shut up, and, from then on, I decided I was going to be the girl who didn’t shave her legs. Though I may have gone home and cried, I was unknowingly building inner strength to not allow others to define me. It was painful, because I did have the desire to belong, but it made me strong enough to accept truths that are not favorable and gave me the courage to stand alone when I needed a hug the most. I believe this is what has allowed me to embrace veganism the way I have, and eventually activism.

The realization of the systematic exploitation of animals by the human race led me to a more acute awareness of the human bent for oppression. Once my eyes were opened, the reality I found myself living in led me to mental isolation, while simultaneously opening the door to my biggest spiritual awakening. It became hard for me to relate to the circles I was part of, the fact that the people I loved and cared about were supporting violence. My voice shook when I told others about veganism and they denied it, turned a blind eye, or justified eating animals. I became angry at the inability of the people in my life to take responsibility for what they were part of. I felt the loneliest when I was around people—physically we were at the same place, but mentally we were in two different worlds. That anger turned into sadness as I realized that this system we live in thrives on separation and exploitation, and then I realized I was now part of yet another separation: vegan and non-vegan. This challenge forced me to look at all parts of myself, and I realized that I had to let go of all of my resentment in order to move forward. It was difficult to do, because it was emotionally, spiritually, and mentally exhausting to witness so much violence and injustice, but it was then that I realized how important it is to speak the truth without holding on to resentment. Though I felt unable to relate to some of the closest people in my life, it gave me the opportunity to get to know myself differently. I was experiencing authenticity because I was practicing self-honesty. By listening to my intuition, I created a reality that aligned with my values. The expectations of society used to hold me back, but when I accepted that not fitting into a culture that didn’t align with my values was the best way of being different, I freed myself from expectations, experiencing mental liberation. This is when I felt my spiritual awakening truly take off. I had a desire to live honestly and was open to evolving. I was not my appearance, my career, my finances, or my house—those things didn’t matter like I was taught to believe. What matters is humanity, earth, and animals—life.

Contrary to what some might think, becoming an animal rights activist deepened my empathy toward humans. I realized that we have all been misled and that some of us don’t even have the basic necessities for survival. I also realized the importance of fixing all injustices from the core. After all, a racist is taught to hate, a sexist is taught to believe their gender is superior, and a person from China is taught that it’s okay to eat dogs, just as Americans are taught that it’s okay to eat chickens. All forms of discrimination that lead to injustice have been learned. If people don’t know there’s another way, how can they do better? If people are not told the truth about their “food,” we can’t necessarily expect them to make better choices. I felt empowered when I learned the truth, that everything we need to be happy and healthy is provided by Mother Earth and if we unite, we can inspire the understanding that all beings have the right to safety and health. That Earth is home to all of us, human and nonhuman animals. Activism was never part of my “plan,” but I also hadn’t known that I was part of the world’s largest holocaust of all time. I have no other option than to take action, as everywhere I look I see violence, injustice, and an absence of humanity.

I can’t believe the things I do as an activist. For example, protesting inside a grocery store. This may seem “crazy” to some, but these businesses sell the bodies and secretions of murdered animals, and they are disguised to look normal, healthy, and humane with no respect for the beings that were violated. Activism has helped keep me sane in this world of such violence; doing something about it is the difference. Activism has put me in situations I wouldn’t otherwise experience. I am an organizer for one of the Los Angeles chapters of Anonymous for the Voiceless, a worldwide grassroots activism network for animal rights. In cities all over the world activists bring the truth to the streets (a truth otherwise unknown to the masses) by gathering in locations with heavy foot traffic and holding screens with footage of standard practices in the animal agriculture industry. We wear Guy Fawkes masks and form a human “Cube of Truth” with the footage and signs that spell out TRUTH. Other activists reach out to bystanders and engage in conversations regarding how animals are treated and killed for human consumption. The mission is to abolish animal exploitation by helping others make the connection to something they already believe is wrong. For example, the American culture believes that eating dogs is morally wrong, because we understand that they are sentient beings just like us and we value them as individuals. Animal rights activists have made this connection to all animals. Because so many people either stay away from looking at what happens to animals or have not been shown what they are paying for, it’s hard for them to make this connection. The power of the Cube of Truth and its accompanying outreach arises from its ability to expose the public to animal exploitation and cause people to consider their thoughts and beliefs about the reality of the system. We change our actions when we change the way we think. Outreach often presents a simple question: If we have the choice to side with justice for animals, why wouldn’t we? Whatever the outcome of the conversation is, individuals have now been exposed to the truth about animals. Because animal rights activists are often considered to be extreme and outspoken, many don’t consider the personal challenges that come with speaking this unpopular truth. Through activism, specifically outreach at Cube of Truth demos, I realized that even though I was respectful, I still felt resentment and anger toward those who were causing harm to animals. The suffering of these animals is constantly on my mind, but I also realize the importance of speaking to others as allies. I don’t look to prove anyone wrong, but rather to speak the truth about the injustice toward animals and find common ground in the reality that we all want a better world. I came to understand that the truth is enough, and how I deliver this fragile message to the masses is what really matters. My compassion for people deepened, because I discovered that we have all been provided limited and false information, and I also see this as an injustice.

Activism was a fast track to my growth on all levels. It has challenged me to face fears straight on, showing me the power of speaking the unapologetic truth, because it is the only thing that will shift our level of consciousness for the greater good. I learned to think for myself and trust the voice within, and through that I found my true purpose—to be kind to the world around me and to be courageous in speaking the truth.