When You Wish Upon a Star...

From: Ali Valentine
Date: January 17, 2011
To: Danielle Simmons
Subject: Gift for Drew Porter

Hello Ms. Simmons,

I wanted to get in touch with you because I see that your agency represents the very beautiful and inspiring actress, Drew Porter.

She was recently quoted on UsMagazine.com as saying that she thought that "fur [is] gross..." The organization I work with, People Against Torturing Animals, was founded in 1983 with one of the same heartfelt convictions and we would like to thank Ms. Porter for her courage as she speaks to a generation and has the power to influence so many lives.

As a small token of our appreciation, we would love to send Ms. Porter a gorgeous, cruelty-free winter coat by the leading French fashion designer, Chloé D’Arbanville, for those chilly nights in Los Angeles. Could you direct me as to where to send it?

Thanks so much,

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: January 17
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Gift for Drew Porter

Hi, Ali,

Thanks for your message. I am glad that you appreciated Drew Porter's statement. One thing Drew’s fans respond to is that she’s not afraid to speak her mind.

You could send the coat to [redacted].

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Ali Valentine
Date: January 17
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Re: Gift for Drew Porter

Hi Kate,

Thanks so much for the information on where to send the D’Arbanville Luxury coat. We hope Ms. Porter enjoys it! She will look beautiful in it. We will send a size zero: please don’t hesitate to let me know if a different size might be better.

If you think that this would be all right, I would love to send a video and informational materials along with the coat that explore the fur industry with some depth. I think that Ms. Porter will find it eye-opening and deepening of her convictions.  As someone with so much influence, we would love the opportunity to help her become even more of a voice for abused and exploited animals.

Thank you,

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: January 17
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Gift for Drew Porter

Amy,

Does the coat happen to come in negative sizes? That may work better. Drew is quite petite. :)

Feel free to add the materials you mentioned.

Take care,

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Ali Valentine
Date: January 18
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: House Party?

Hi Kate,

Thanks for getting back to me. A representative from the D’Arbanville design house will contact your agency shortly for Ms. Porter’s exact measurements so a custom-made, cruelty-free coat that will fit her perfectly can be made. She’ll love it!

I just had a thought: there is a house party happening in Beverly Hills on January 27 organized by Ramona Oliver, wife of producer Michael Oliver, at their beautiful estate. Ramona is doing this on behalf of PATA; she is one of our most passionate supporters. Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres will be served courtesy of LA hot-spot Quattro. This is a ticketed fundraiser for PATA but we would love to invite Ms. Porter there as our guest. We’ll also have other celebrity PATA supporters there as well – I can get you a list if you’re interested – and our President, Astrid Newhouse, will also be on hand to talk about some of our bold new initiatives.

Please let me know if Ms. Porter is available and I’ll add her name to the guest list! I know it’s short notice and I’m sure she has a very busy calendar, but I thought I’d try.

Thank you,

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: January 19
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: House Party?

Hi, Ali,

I spoke with Drew’s scheduler and unfortunately she’s not available for that date. Great news, though: we just got the word that Drew has been chosen as Maxim magazine’s Hottest Woman Alive for this year! Celebrating in the office…

Best,

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Ali Valentine
Date: January 19
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Re: House Party?

Hi Kate,

While I’m disappointed that Drew can’t make it to our fundraiser, I am really thrilled that she was chosen as Hottest Woman Alive by Maxim! I’m not surprised, though. People with compassionate hearts are always the hottest, don’t you think? PATA had seven sexy celebrity spokeswomen and supporters in last year’s Hot 100 list (eight if you count the model used in that provocative embrace with tennis star Svetlana Petroski) and if the rumors are correct, we are expecting at least that many this year!

This is awesome for the animals!

I would also love to talk to you when you get the chance of mutually beneficial ways Drew can lend her voice and celebrity even more than she already does to helping build a more compassionate world. We have lots of creative ideas.

Enjoy the sunshine!

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Ali Valentine
Date: February 20
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Hello again!

Hi Kate,

I just wanted to tell you how amazing it was to see Drew Porter’s interview in this month’s Maxim. She’s so articulate in addition to being beautiful! I also did not know that she loves surfing and dogs. That’s so great! I feel like we would be friends if we met.

The reason I am getting in touch – other than to say hello – is to see if we could work with Drew on a PATA campaign to educate people about the fur industry. Our famous anti-fur campaign, running since 1990, is called I’m Sexy in My Own Skin (for short, it’s referred to as Sexy Skin), meaning we don’t need to wear someone else’s skin, fur in this case, in order to be sexy.

I sense that this is a subject Drew is or could be passionate about given her quote on UsMagazine.com.

PATA is fortunate enough to get some of the world’s most highly acclaimed fashion and art photographers who donate their time and talents to the cause. The portrait would be professional, sensual but tasteful. In keeping with the art direction that that PATA has become famous for, the photograph would hint at nudity but no actual “controversial” naked parts would be exposed. With her youthful, independent, funky vibe, Drew would be a perfect candidate and the latest in a proud tradition of PATA models. With the campaign, we will create a provocative and memorable buzz around an important issue that will then help people make connections between nudity and cruelty to animals. Drew would be amazing!!

Could I send you an attachment with some of our prior Sexy Skin ads?

Thank you, Kate!


Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: February 20
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Hello again!

Aly,

I ran your idea by Drew and she’s interested. Time is of the essence, though, because she leaves to start filming on location in Stockholm very soon and she’s doing a two-day Bikram Yoga intensive starting Saturday, so really the only time we have is Friday morning and we’d have to shoot in LA. Call me at [redacted].

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group


From: Ali Valentine
Date: February 22
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Tomorrow and Riders

Hi, Kate –

Everything is set up at Magenta Studios for tomorrow morning at 9:30. Thank you for sending Drew’s rider: I wasn’t aware that her make-up and stylist teams would also have riders. Thanks for sending those as well.

As you know, we are a non-profit and we have to make every dollar stretch. Looking over the lists, are there any places we could make some little cuts? For example, is it necessary that we have a glass neti pot, organic tea tree oil, clothing steamer (especially as this is a photograph taken without clothing), on-site astrologer and numerologist, a personal trainer, licensed-and-insured dog walker, a dog chiropractor(?) and orchids on the set? The rest of the list should be fine though we’re having some trouble finding Peruvian mangoes in LA.

Please understand that as we are very grateful and excited to be working with Drew and her team on this important campaign but we are on a tight budget and just weeks away from our big annual pre-gala kick-off in NYC.

Thanks!

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: February 22
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Tomorrow and Riders

Ali –

I’m rushing off to a meeting, but Drew’s assistant said you could send a regular ceramic neti pot in a pinch and probably do away with the garment steamer. Drew works with an astrologer who also does numerology so that’s just one person instead of two (and her intern but she's free) who has graciously offered to reduce her rate to $75 an hour for the cause.  Everything else, I’m afraid, is non-negotiable, especially since this is requiring the very limited free time of Drew and her team.

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group


From: Ali Valentine
Date: February 22
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Re: Tomorrow and Riders

Hi Kate,

Thanks for getting back to me. I know you’re busy but I just noticed on the rider that you also need a “Champion or other centrifugal force juicer” along with everything else. The photo shoot is going to only take a few hours, hair and make-up included. Couldn’t we have an assistant go and do a juice run? I’m trying to make tomorrow comfortable and enjoyable for everyone but certain items on the list are quite difficult to procure and/or costly.

I don’t mean to be a pain! Everyone is super-excited for tomorrow.

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: February 22
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Tomorrow and Riders

Yes, it’s necessary to have our own juicer or it wouldn't have been on the list: Drew and her team are very specific about what they put into their bodies. Sigh. I really can’t spend any more time on this, Ali. These are the conditions and if you have any experience working with VIPs at all, these courtesies are not excessive.

Have a good afternoon.

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group


From: Ali Valentine
Date: February 26
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Shoot!

Hi Kate,

It sounds like everything went really well at the shoot and Valentino will have comps ready to show us tomorrow.  I hope Drew is happy with how things went.

I did get word that there was some confusion with some of the people who showed up yesterday but weren’t needed. Unfortunately, we still need to pay them for their time. Any insight on this would be appreciated.

Thanks,

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA


From: Kate Flaherty
Date: February 26
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Shoot!

Hi, Ali,

Thanks for your message. My understanding is that Drew had a good experience with the photo shoot, too. She is excited to see the comps, so please send them this way when you’re able.

About the confusion, Drew decided to send her dog Layla to her playgroup rather than pack her along for the shoot, so we ended up not needing the dog walker or chiropractor. Sorry but it was a last minute decision.

By the way, I think you’ll be happy to know that the experience working with PATA, along with the materials you sent, inspired Drew to go vegan! Do you have any healthy recipes you could send her personal chef?

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group


From: Ali Valentine
Date: February 26
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Wow!

Hi Kate!

Oh my God, that’s amazing news! Everyone in the office is jumping up and down! Squueeeee! Drew is such an inspiration to her generation: this could really have a great impact on so many lives!

I just got off the phone with Ramona Oliver and she has generously offered to send her personal vegan chef to Drew’s home to give her chef some tips and ideas. We’re also putting together a care package of cookbooks, PATA Gear and videos to overnight to her. Should we send it to the same address as the coat?

Also, could we get two quotes from Drew for the news release we’d like to send out ASAP? Ideally, one would address her participation in the Sexy Skin campaign and it would be great if the other one discussed her decision to go vegan.

Wheeeeee!

Ali Valentine
Senior ViP Liaison
PATA


From: Kate Flaherty
Date: February 26
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Wow!

Hi, Alli,

Drew would love to borrow Ramona’s chef for in-home training session. Have her set up an appointment at Drew’s chef at [redacted]. Just to let you know, Drew is big on low-fat, high raw, low-carb, high alkaline foods so she’s hoping that Ramona’s chef has some training in this.

Yes, please send the package to the earlier address.

Drew’s publicist, Marci, will send you quotes to use tonight for the news release. Please send me the press release before it goes out so I can get approval on it.


Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Ali Valentine
Date: February 27
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Press release

Hi Kate!

I hope you are well. I sent the news release in the attachment. We’d like to send this out first thing tomorrow morning, so I’d appreciate it if you could get back to me as soon as you get the chance.


PATA Supporter Drew Porter is Sexy (and Now Vegan!) in Her Own Skin


For Immediate Release
February 28, 2011

Contact:
Francesca Alexander


Los Angeles – When PATA’s internationally recognized campaign, “I’m Sexy in My Own Skin,” is unveiled tomorrow, admirers will enjoy a new face (and other lovely assorted parts) courtesy of the stunning Drew Porter, animal lover and the actress of her generation. Shot by edgy Italian fashion photographer Valentino Buonarroti in LA’s cutting edge Magenta Studios, Ms. Porter proves to the world that sex appeal is more than skin deep and that there’s nothing seductive about the fur trade.

“I am proud to be a part of PATA’s ‘I’m Sexy in My Own Skin’ campaign and I hope that I can use my celebrity to build awareness of the cruelty of the fur industry,” says darling Drew.

Animals used in the fur industry suffer enormously. On so-called “fur ranches,” they are kept in filthy, small wire cages, one stacked on top of the next, where excrement and urine falls on the tortured animals below. To preserve their pelts, the foxes, rabbits, mink and other fur-bearing animals suffer excruciating pain as they are killed by whatever crude method is easiest: most often, their necks broken, they are poisoned or anally electrocuted.

Like Drew, many of the world’s most sexy and stylish trendsetters are tossing fur coats into the reject pile.

“They are a relic of the past,” says trailblazing French fashion designer, Chloé D’Arbanville. “Fur is beautiful when it’s on the animals but hideous when turned into ‘fashion.’ Fur coats are the direct product of torture and no compassionista would be caught dead in one.”

Working on the campaign caused Drew to open her heart to the plight of all animals and as a result, she tells PATA in an exclusive interview that she is now a dedicated vegan!

“After learning about the fur industry, I have decided to go vegan to try to bring more compassion into the world,“ says the gorgeous movie star. “Every time I eat a vegan meal, I am saving lives, which is amazing! I feel great and I’ve never looked better.”

For more information, please visit SexySkin.org.

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: February 27
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Press Release

Hi, Ally,

Looks good.

We’d like you to use another adjective for “darling” in her first quote because she is skewing lately toward a slightly older fan-base than this suggests and sounds too cutesy. Maybe “daring” instead to go with her increasingly edgy career choices?

Also, we'd like you to add the words “Academy Award-nominated” after “gorgeous,” in the last quote. Thanks.

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: March 1
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Entertainment Tonight!

Hi, Ally,

You’ve probably heard by now that Drew is going to be interviewed on ET for her part in the Sexy Skin campaign. It’s set to air tomorrow night, so set your DVR!

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Ali Valentine
Date: March 1
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Re: Entertainment Tonight!

Hi Kate,

I just heard! Astrid was wondering if there was any way she could wear the hot pink PATA tank we overnighted her on the eighth? I know I read that’s her favorite color, she’ll look amazing in it and it’ll help raise awareness of our work.

Also, we would love to offer some “talking points” assistance for the interview to help Drew stay on message. Our VIP Coach, Amanda, is amazing and available in a heartbeat!

Thank you!


Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA


From: Kate Flaherty
Date: March 1
To: Ali Valentine
Subject: Re: Entertainment Tonight!

Sorry, Ally, Drew’s stylist already has a wardrobe picked out.

Drew is quite skilled with interviews. No need for coaching. She will be sure to put in the good word for PATA’s work.

Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group

From: Ali Valentine
Date: March 3
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Damage control…

Hi Kate,

We just had an emergency meeting based on Drew’s ET interview last night and the conclusion is that we’re going to need to initiate an immediate plan of action with your team in terms of damage control.

First of all, it was disappointing to see that Drew and her team thought it was appropriate to wear a suede fringe jacket at an interview about her work on behalf of protecting animals’ lives. It’s understandable that the reporter was confused by that clothing choice given the subject, and Drew probably didn’t help too much by saying, “At least it’s not fur. Remember, I said that fur is gross, not suede.” I’m not sure that was too helpful. I wish we could go back in time and have her re-shoot the interview in her PATA tank that we sent you last week, which would have been perfect.

More damaging, though, was her repeatedly claiming that vegans can still eat fish and “occasionally a little chicken.” We’ve been flooded with angry and confused calls and messages ever since the interview aired, especially since we just sent out our newsletter with her on the cover as one of our Big-Hearted Beauty Brigade. Does Drew not realize that fish and “a little chicken” are not vegetarian foods, let alone vegan foods? I mean no disrespect, but how does that even make sense? Did she not see the videos I sent? Was she not given talking points by her team ahead of time? This was why we wanted to have our VIP Coach work with Drew. We are very disappointed because this could have been easily avoided.

Now we have a couple of contradictory messages to the public and this takes away from PATA’s important work of saving the animals. We are known for doing edgy, controversial, in-your-face messaging, but this wasn’t the sort of thing we were hoping for when we approached Drew with the goal of working together. 

We discussed the possibility of Drew doing a follow-up interview with ET clarifying her new understanding of and commitment to vegetarianism. Could you pursue that from your end? We would also like Drew to do a follow-up “oops, I goofed!” campaign for us that we have on hand for our celebrity friends doing damage control called, “It’s Time for the Naked Truth.” It’s a kind of mea culpa and it will help restore Drew’s credibility as a person of depth. Given the fickle nature of the news cycle, it would need to be a very quick response.

Please call me at [redacted] so we can coordinate a plan of action. Every time I call you, I go into voicemail and we do need to move forward.

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

From: Kate Flaherty
Date: March 3
To: Ali Valentine
Cc: Danielle Simmons
Subject: Re: Damage control…

Hi, Ali,

We’re sorry that you PATA are disappointed. Drew was just being herself, as she always is. Despite your disappointment, we have heard that Drew has gotten tons of words of support and encouragement on her fan sites, Twitter and Facebook page.

In terms of the suede jacket, Drew signed on to do an anti-fur campaign, nothing against suede or leather. She would never have signed on if she thought that all animal fabrics would be considered “inappropriate” for her to wear because she does not want to limit herself or her creative self-expression. She is known for her fashion-forward, eclectic, boho style. For example, you probably did not have noticed but while her jacket was suede and vintage-influenced, her shoes were modern bamboo. Her feet, therefore, were green and cruelty-free but the vegans are not giving her credit for this.

We admit that she might have been rash with declaring her veganism without studying it more, but Drew is known for her passion and spontaneity. These are qualities that help her to resonate with her fans. She is real. She may not have considered all the complexities of the vegan or vegetarian diet, but her heart was in the right place.

Regardless, she sent out this Tweet last night on her own accord. Maybe you saw it? “Sorry, fish and chicken are not vegetables. D’oh! #ETscrewup.”

We feel that this is a sufficient acknowledgement and apology.

Given everything, while she appreciated the chance to lend her voice to PATA’s anti-fur campaign, Drew has decided she is not going to continue working with your organization. This, of course, means that she is not going to do a “Naked Truth” campaign, either, especially given all the time she has already dedicated to PATA. Even if she were so inclined, she is doing a cleanse this week before leaving for Stockholm and that requires many hours connected to a colonic irrigation machine.

There are many ways to make a difference and to live compassionately. Drew considers animal fabrics (except for fur), fish and the occasional chicken to be outside her personal sphere of concern. I think we can agree that at this point, Drew and PATA are going in different directions.

We wish you the best in your future endeavors.


Kate Flaherty
Assistant to Danielle Simmons
The Simmons Management Group


From: Ali Valentine
Date: March 19
To: Kate Flaherty
Subject: Hi, again!

Hi Kate,

How are you? I hope you are well! I’ve gotten in touch because noticed that your agency represents the gorgeous starlet Lacy Rousseau. I loved her in “A Cat’s Claws.” That was my all-time favorite movie last year.

I noticed that she was shown on TMZ yesterday leaving an animal shelter with her newly adopted puppy. At PATA, we are so grateful that she’s helping to spread the message of adopting from shelters rather than buying animals from pet stores or breeders and we would love to send her (and her new furry baby) a care package as a small token of our appreciation.

Companion animal overpopulation kills millions of innocent dogs and cat every year and encouraging people to adopt rather than buy was one of PATA’s founding principles. Someone as influential and charismatic as Ms. Rousseau could certainly make a positive difference in so many lives.

Could you please direct me as to where to send our thank you gifts?

All the best,

Ali Valentine
Senior VIP Liaison
PATA

The VegNews Scandal

It's been a tough time to be an herbivore. If it's not celebrities renouncing their veganism due to predictably vague, pregnancy-induced ailments (such not having baked goods immediately available at their beck and call and, please, like she doesn't) and all the typical irritations we face while swimming against the omnivorous current, we now have this Big, Ugly Scandal that has ripped a flimsy bandage off a significant wound that had obviously been festering for some time. Of course I am referring to the fleshy, cheesy stock photos passed off as vegan recipe examples in our once-pristine publication, VegNews. For the sake of cutting to the chase, I will refer people to the original QuarryGirl exposé.

Italicized here is my Facebook note regarding the scandal, touched up a little because I can never leave anything alone.

As many of you know, I write on a freelance basis for VegNews. I have known Joe Connelly and Colleen Holland since they first published VegNews as a newspaper. Yes, it started out as a smudgy little newspaper. I will state from the beginning that I am not neutral: I like Joe and Colleen, I support their mission, and I have had nothing but great experiences writing for them. Not everyone loves the celebrity focus of the magazine, not everyone loves the editorial direction, but how can one publication be all things to all people?


I was shocked when I read that their photos came from stock photography of meat and animal products. I was disappointed. But I got over it. I wholeheartedly support honest debate and criticism. Given the circumstances of my background, I am not much for keeping up the appearance of unity at the expense of honesty. I have been an outspoken critic of PeTA's misogynist, mean-spirited tactics and I will continue to speak out. I am not encouraging people to just shut up and smile and I never would. It goes against my personal ethic and how I try to live my life. I strive for honesty.


It's the level of vitriol, the degree of viciousness, the total breakdown of civility and just plain goodwill I have observed in the aftermath of QuarryGirl's exposé that has been shocking to me. Given the rancor, one would think VegNews staff were shooting eagles, poisoning cows, kicking puppies and force-feeding Big Macs to bunnies while cackling with evil delight. Oh! And they're raking in the big bucks while deluding us (in between little kick-the-puppy breaks). People are up in arms, they're canceling subscriptions, they're furious.


How I see it is really quite simple. They screwed up. They need to take ownership of that. They need to apologize and correct their mistakes. We need to move on.


How does canceling subscriptions to a vegan publication when major, long established magazines are folding left and right make any sense? So we can get a subscription to the Vegetarian Journal and endlessly complain about the the bad photography, the boring articles? (I love the Vegetarian Journal, but you know that people would be complaining about it.) Or should we buy Vegetarian Times so we can be offended by the non-vegan recipes and insipidness? What good would causing financial harm to a vegan magazine do in the world, the world we claim we want to consume fewer animal products?


So VegNews doesn't work for you. It's not alternative enough, it's too rah-rah-rah, the recipes are junky, it's not substantive enough. Okay, here is a solution: create your own magazine. You don't like to write? Do what you do really well. Have it become a success. Have it become solvent. Have it look beautiful. Have it be professional. Have it always reflect your highest goals. Have it be something your next door neighbor or your sixteen-year-old cousin would both love. Or create an amazingly unique and artistic expression of your deepest convictions that no one understands except for a few people but they think it's incredible.


Go out and do that.


Stick your neck out and create something to help make the world a better place. Be prepared for people to really dislike what you're doing, though, the very people you consider your community and for them to tell you about it. As you become more successful, be prepared for people to imply that you're greedy, you're inauthentic, you're not edgy enough, you've lost your heart, you're a hack. I dare you to create knowing that this will happen. I dare myself. I would love to see someone else create a publication with the distribution and readership they have and run it with an unapologetically vegan focus for eleven years. I am not even being sarcastic: the more publications we have to reflect the diversity of our community, the better. It is easy to point fingers, vilify and condemn: it is a hell of a lot harder to take the initiative and create something.


VegNews screwed up. They shouldn't have done what they did and they deserve to be called on it. They need to sincerely apologize and fix it. This slash-and-burn, take-no-prisoners, ad hominem attacking is totally repellent, though. It is also simplistic, unkind and unfair. Having a publication owned by hard-working vegans be dragged through the mud by the very community they helped to create makes me heartsick.


People make mistakes. People screw up. Could we stop the mob mentality and call off the pile-on? Could we encourage civil discourse instead? Could we work toward creative solutions?


Big picture, people. Big picture.

In the days between QuarryGirl's Big Reveal and as I am writing this right now, I have seen all manner of opinions on the VegNews scandal. I know that people are canceling subscriptions and calling companies that advertise in the magazine and asking them to stop, and I have also seen people come to their defense. I have seen a firestorm of rage that seems way out of proportion and I have seen a condescending attitude toward those who express genuine feelings of betrayal. As in keeping with both vegan culture and online communication, sharp lines have been drawn: you're either an ivory tower extremist or you are a wussy apologist. Nobody wants to be either - we want to be seen for who we are, with all of our honest self-expression and complexities - and it is an infuriating thing when we are reassigned a cardboard version of ourselves and told, "This is you." This is the nature, though, of the world of anonymous instant communication we live in: as soon as a thought enters your mind, you can type it out and hit the return key. No need for a cooling off period if what you really want is to blame and rage. Instant gratification.

It's no secret that we live in a world that is very inclined toward spewing inflammatory, take-no-prisoners accusations against one another. From sputtering politicians to cable news talking heads, screamed invective is meant to inflict damage as though that were the most natural thing for us, as though engaging in civil (but still passionate) discourse were a sign of our obvious weakness. We live in an era of broad stroke character assassinations with a "you're either with me or against me" mentality. It seems as if we have lost our ability to voice dissent without resorting to divisions and viciousness. This ability to speak, listen and debate without acting on the urge to cut one another apart is quickly becoming something like a vestigial limb: we once had it but it became useless to us and disappeared over time.

I understand and totally accept that people are upset about the situation. I am, too. Why the need to inflict more harm, though, instead of focusing on correcting the problems? Is this a transference thing? Have vegans been so hurt by society at large that we are acting out the emotional drama of abuse among ourselves, a form of horizontal aggression? What is behind the mob mentality, the scent of blood bringing out the single-minded shark in so many otherwise sensitive people? Why are we so damn angry with one another and what is it about the VegNews scandal that opened this Pandora's box of deep-seated hostility?

I can understand people feeling angry and betrayed by the publication, an oasis in a culture with values so removed from our own. Their use of stock photos made readers feel betrayed, and, frankly even more vulnerable to being treated like the punch line to every smug joke by society at large. People have worked hard to raise the profile of vegan cuisine and this could easily be used by those who already dismiss us as an admission that our food is, well, beige and icky. Of course we know it's not: the most vivid, diverse palette of colors, the most interesting shapes and textures are found in plant foods. The fear, though, is that those who have already written us off have now been given even ample ammunition by our own top publication. We are so exhausted from being mocked and derided, so on edge from feeling battered, so raw from having this way of living - something we adopted because of heartfelt convictions - treated like nothing more than a joke. We don't need this. We also don't like to be deceived by the businesses we support, that should go without saying. We don't want to look at what we think are seitan ribs only to be told, "Oops. Yeah, actually the bones have been airbrushed out." When we have worked as hard as we have to reach out to others with our food - the best outreach tool we often have - we don't need the implication that our food is lesser-than coming from our leading publication. This has almost certainly set us back, giving us more obvious and hidden barriers as we do our advocacy work.

I get that.

A second part of the hostility toward VegNews that the QuarryGirl exposé unleashed seems to be a rising tide of resentment against their editorial direction. Too many puff pieces, too much of a celebrity focus, too cheerleader-y! To those complaints, I am less sympathetic. VegNews has pulled off something really quite amazing if you think about it: they are a niche magazine that represents one percent of the population and they not only share shelf space in bookstores and grocery stores with Vogue, Bon Appetit and Rolling Stone, the magazine looks like it is perfectly at home there. This is an amazing accomplishment. I think sometimes we get an inflated sense of how many vegans there are because we have such a rich and dynamic (and outspoken) culture, but we are tiny. VegNews would never have a broad appeal for itself and our strange little subculture without more of a mainstream focus. Don't we want people to meet us half way? Don't we want to have a well-produced magazine that looks beautiful? VegNews has managed to make veganism accessible, attractive and SANE to those who might have thought otherwise. If we want veganism to remain an insular, exclusive club, that is one thing. If we want veganism to appeal to a broad base of people so they might consider the lifestyle to be within reach, that is something entirely different. That is what I want. I think that is what VegNews wants. I understand that direction is not appealing to everyone but what I don't understand is the intolerance, the unwillingness to see the vital role VegNews has played in expanding the vegan market and community, and this urge to throw the baby out with the bath water.

VegNews cannot be all things to all people: no one and no publication can be. We need our vegan-fueled literary magazines, our artisan "foodie" magazines, our culture magazines, our crafting magazines, and, yes, our cheerleader magazines. They are part of the landscape that we need as we build in-roads. VegNews is successful at what they set out to do, which is to make veganism appealing and demystified. It seems to me that our community is quite adept at shooting ourselves and one another in the feet. Why would are we so hell-bent on annihilation from within?  Being dismayed about VegNews and their food photography standards is one thing and it needs to be corrected. The hatefulness, the deep-seated anger directed at VegNews for being what they have always been and have never pretended not to be, though, is something else. I think we need to be honest with ourselves as to whether we want veganism to move beyond a little exclusive club or we want it to be something that expands its reach. I have no doubt what I want.

We have a creative and talented population of self-starters within the vegan movement. If you don’t like what you see, if you haven’t seen anything that reflects your personal approach or appeals to your aesthetic, then go out and create what you want to see. Legitimate criticism and holding one another accountable is productive, valuable and important. Finger-pointing and self-righteous rage are not. Honestly, this is not about unity: I don't care what the neighbors might think. It's about our need to take responsibility for our role in creating the world we want to see and stop blaming others if they are not who we want them to be.

Vegan Bake Sale Bliss

On Sunday, we had our vegan bake sale to raise money for relief efforts in Japan. We raised $1,526 in five concentrated hours of pushing pretty cupcakes and frosted cookies, muffins and assorted bars. It should come as no surprise that they pretty much sold themselves. When people entered our paradisiacal pop-up bakeshop, many needed a moment to take it all in, eyes jumping from trays and platters to baskets and cupcake trees piled high with colorful, cheerful treats. Many people looked as if they’d just entered a portal to a sort of magical carb-y wonderland. Understandably, a dazed, dreamy “Wow,” was all most could muster given everything.

There’s always something about the afterglow of a vegan bake sale that sustains me: I sometimes wonder how long I could live off the happy vibes of a vigorous bake sale. A couple of days, maybe even a week? The idea of people coming together, throwing their limited time and sincere efforts behind a grassroots, self-funded project to help others just feels so right and outright corrective when we’ve been so beaten down and destroyed about the state of the world. Of course vegan bake sales alone will not cure the world’s injustices or make suffering disappear. No one would claim that. It is something, though, and it’s more significant than it may seem on the surface. The all-or-nothing, binary brain tells us that what we do is a drop in the bucket and I wonder sometimes if we naturally default to this mentality because we’re already so disempowered by the state of things. The fact is that while we may not be superheroes or possess magic wands, we can still pick up our bowls, preheat our ovens, pour and whisk and roll for an hour or two and contribute toward a common goal: raising more money in the collective than we would be able to give as individuals. We can do this.

On a deeper level, efforts like a vegan bake sale are emboldening because they put us in the driver’s seat for creating something powerfully positive and humanitarian out of virtually nothing. It’s that great combination of self-reliance and a community coming together, of creativity, kinship, generosity and altruism all whirled up together that make the vegan bake sale spirit so infectious and addictive.

Mostly what I bask in, though, is just the uncomplicated affection I have for my community. This is the stuff that sustains me. On our way to the bake sale, the trunk packed (cookies, muffins, cupcakes, a cash box, bags, tongs, spatulas, and my big purse stuffed with lipstick, to-do lists, ingredient lists and my water bottle), I was so hyper to just be there already I had to concentrate on my deep breathing. Almost every weekday, I spend most of my time alone, really settling into a cushion of silence so I can concentrate on my writing projects. When the phone rings, it always gives me an unpleasant little jolt. When I have to actually answer it, I always roll my eyes in defiance first. During the monthly natural disaster test alarm with the eerie sirens, I tap my foot the whole minute, waiting for the disruption to end. I gulp down silence like water most days.

What this means is that over time, I can work myself up to a state of conversation near-deprivation. Yes, of course I have my family, but how many times can they listen to me rave about my latest obsessions and rant about my litany of complaints before I feel the need to work out my material before a fresh audience? Being a writer is a solitary, sometimes hermit-like life that I adore, but it does mean that the once or twice a month when I’m around my friends, they are in danger of having an avalanche of words and ideas bury them as well as witness a stream-of-consciousness-that-is-more-like-an-ocean pouring out of me. Being temperamentally right in the middle between introvert and extrovert, this occasional deluge is how I find a balance between my halves. This need to share is even more pronounced when I’m with my vegan friends.

For the most part, we get one another. There’s often a natural relaxing of our defenses when vegans are together: you hear this expressed whenever groups of us come together, with a sigh of relief, “I can just be myself.” We can talk about the new shoes we found, the shelter we volunteer at, vent about the upcoming meal out with the extended family (to be served “family style,” words that strike lightning bolts of fear and dread in the heart of any herbivore), the co-workers who make fun of us with the same predictable, stupid jokes every time. At the bake sale, for five hours we re-stocked the overflow of treats and talked about whatever flew into our heads: peanut and wheat allergies (they suck!), bullies (they also suck), whether tofu is kosher for a vegan Passover Seder (not if you’re Ashkenazi but it is if you’re Sephardic, so get with it), if gluten-free, vegan matzo balls were possible (perhaps, but we wouldn’t want to try them), raising vegan children (fabulous!). Being a minority of a minority in this culture of convenience and preference trumping ethics, those of us who have tuned into this lifestyle are treated like prissy pariahs who have crashed the bacchanal. It is so nice to be in an environment where we don’t need to explain ourselves, where our beliefs are not only appreciated and understood but shared. Everyone needs a place they are accepted. Among vegans, for the most part, I feel that I can let down my guard: I am among my people.

The thing that really gives me chills, though, is to remind myself that there are these dynamic, electric vegan communities virtually everywhere, in small towns and cities and everywhere you can imagine. I imagine them like satellites across the globe. We had just one little bake sale among many. Across the world, at vegan bake sales, trips to animal sanctuaries and fundraisers for advocacy non-profits, you will find cookbook authors, teachers, activists, artists, master gardeners, scientists, animal rehabilitators, lawyers, year-round bicyclists and social workers: people who are changing the world in large and small ways every day. We’re plugged into this amazing power source of renewable energy: the desire to bring more good into the world. I may be prejudiced, but I think that the sharing of this common denominator is what brings out the best of the best.

So, yes, on the surface it was just a bake sale. Like almost everything worthwhile, though, if you scratch the surface, you’ll find a whole lot more there.

Hounded by Kate Bush: A Tribute...

I first learned about Kate Bush as a freshman in college. I learned about her in a way that is embarrassing to admit to but was characteristic of the time: a quiet boy in my dorm with pale blue eyes and an all-black wardrobe (also, in retrospect, a mullet) told me I looked like her.  It was narcissism and a budding crush that inspired me to rush to the record store that same afternoon and pick up a cassette of hers, but I've been fully entranced by her mysterious, beguiling, smoky-eyed, utterly idiosyncratic charms for my own reasons ever since. That year, I even dressed up like Kate Bush and lip-synched to Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) for a celebrity look-alike charity fundraiser, unconcerned that no one in Kansas but the boy with the blue eyes and I seemed to know who she was. Everyone else was dressed up as Madonna, Cyndi Lauper or Simon LeBon, there was a veritable Claire's Boutique warehouse worth of leggings, rubber bracelets, eyeliner and mesh gloves in the room, and because no one knew who I was, I felt beyond cool, channeling Kate’s inimitably hot-and-chilly English persona as best I could.

The Kate Bush album I bought that afternoon was Hounds of Love. The image of her lying on a purple bed with a diaphanous mauve sheet across her chest, her dark hair splayed out around her, pouty lips and two sleek Weimeraners snuggling against her, one gazing up at her lovingly, was jarringly intimate and sensual.  I stared at the woman lying there with her arms around the dogs in the photo - okay, yes, it seemed like she had a post-sex afterglow - and I thought, I could look like her to someone? I was eighteen, fresh from the suburbs, naive, prone to blurting out whatever I was thinking at inappropriate moments (still am), and apparently I also ran off to record stores the moment that I got attention from cute boys: I could look like this confident, sexy, fully-formed woman who stared back at the camera lens, daring the viewer to disapprove of her? As someone who had always sought approval, just the photo itself unraveled me a little.  That I even reminded one person of the woman in the picture was enough to give me the boost I needed to think I was cut from a different cloth that those boring, cookie-cutter people who went to football games in at my dorm. As soon as I was exposed to Kate Bush, I stopped trying to fit in and I found my crowd: the artsy, weird, wonderful misfits came out of the woodwork to meet me and they have ever since.

I really believe that there were two identifiable, seismic inner-shifts I had as a young person that have determined my direction in life ever since: becoming a vegetarian at fifteen and discovering Kate Bush three years later.  Vegetarianism gave me the tools to become the sort of person who was in harmony with her values: Kate Bush with her inspired, bold, thoroughly-engrossed-in-chasing-her-muse example was a different sort of catalyst, teaching me that women could be as seized by an artistic, aesthetic drive as any brilliant male artist.

And the music. The incredible, unearthly sounds that she made. That voice, screeching one moment and guttural the next, changing from a sweet little chirp to a grandiose, swooping vocal in one brief line, Kate's voice expressed a quality I’d not come into yet, which was a person who was fully at home with herself.  In one moment, she could sound like she'd gulped helium, in the next, her voice was indescribably lush and gorgeous. Despite this, it didn't take long to integrate the two, these opposing voices that could exist in one person and be transformative together. Hearing her voice was a little like the first time I had kombucha. At the first sip, I recoiled at the weirdness of it, the distinctly vinegar flavor with the carbonation that made me feel lightheaded, and then I somehow couldn't resist taking another sip. By the third sip of kombucha, it was not only like it was always imprinted as part of my DNA code but I also was hooked. Kate Bush was kombucha to me.

The moment my Walkman's wheels spun the thin black tape and that translated into sound in my headphones, the dorm room around me dissolved and I was in her world. She has been quoted as saying that she wants her music to intrude, and this is an understatement. She was running up a hill, she was haunted by hounds, an angry man threatened her, made us sympathetic to her as a witch, she described with chillingly simple detail something - a person? - moving under ice, alive but desperate to get out, a ghost in her home, murderers. There was the complex instrumentation, too, the creepy rise and fall of the synthesizer in Mother Stands for Comfort (not to mention the disturbing lyrics belying the gentle, almost sleepy singing), the amazing fretless bass throughout that gave me goose bumps to the point where I needed to put on a sweater to listen.  The first time I saw music as being sculptural, as something I could almost reach out, feel, and let wash over me was through Kate Bush's Hounds of Love album that freshman year in college, sitting on my industrial cot in my messy room. I’d loved albums and songs before but this was different. I was spellbound and I wore that cassette down within a few months. I hungrily reached for the rest of her albums, each one leaving me more punch drunk than the previous. Hounds of Love will always be my Kate Bush album, though, because it was my first.

I was a painting major with English major leanings. I had no idea as to how this would translate into the real world of paying bills and supporting myself, but her music assured me that anything was possible. Kate Bush had her first recording contract at sixteen and Hounds of Love, her fifth album, came out when she was 27. This was the first album she self-produced, making it in the studio she built so she could record it at the pace she wanted, exactly as she wanted. Kate Bush’s music resonated so powerfully with me also because of her story: that she was a fierce believer in her right to be heard, to intrude, and to not always sound pretty or ever be packaged as a plaything. Her childlike curiosity, the way that she played with sound like a four-year-old smashing around finger-paints, the way trusted a bold muse with enough confidence that she was willing to fall on her face, helped me to realize that the pursuit of a creative vision should also be damn fun sometimes (when it’s not infuriating), or your results will suffer. It will be anemic and stale: maybe you will have technical proficiency but you won’t inspire. Our culture can hold to firmly to the archetype of the artist as a dour, long-suffering, joyless scold, and Kate, with her feral, playful but also deeply disciplined aesthetic, gave lie to that outdated notion.

Kate Bush was passionate and sensitive, feminine and ferocious in one, petite, totally unshackled form. More than any of the visual artists I studied, she was my inspiration because she was the one who challenged me, as a woman, to intrude. By the time I graduated and left Kansas, I was optimistic and hungry for the future. I had an amazing group of friends who supported and challenged me, I believed in myself for the first time since early childhood. This might have happened without Kate but I don’t like to contemplate a life without her. Years later, at 26, I met my husband. The first night we went out, we bonded on our mutual love of Kate Bush and I knew I’d never have to explain myself to this man. I knew I’d found home. 

Kate is not perfect, of course, because she’s real, flesh-and-blood, not a marketing creation. After the creative burst of her young adulthood, her output has tapered off considerably. She is a reclusive person, living with her husband and son, rarely giving interviews. (This is a sweet one, though, from 1980: yes, Kate is, or at least was, a vegetarian.)  Some of her songs are overwrought and her music videos – oh, her music videos! - are cringe-worthy at best and stand as very good examples of bad performance art from the 1980s. You can’t say that she didn’t put it all out there, though. Ambition and gumption are to be admired in this fearful, self-conscious world. Who knows what kind of astounding music she’s creating, epic songs she’s writing, off alone with her family and her imagination?

The quiet boy in black with the pale blue eyes faded into the background and I don’t think I saw him past my freshman year. I probably fell in love fifty more times that year alone. He left a lasting legacy to inspire me, though: the knowledge of a daring, brilliant, beautiful woman living as an artist, one who refused to do anything but intrude.

The Case for Why Vegan Feminists Should Just Rule the World Already

Do I really need to count the reasons why? Yes. Yes, I do.

A real live vegan feminist is the best kind of person to know. This is not opinion: this is scientifically provable fact. She has the most interesting array of friends, knows the best restaurants, books, films and music, and she will make you laugh and laugh with her impressions of stupid, annoying people. The vegan feminist will bring more cultural savvy and belly laughs into your life. Trust this.

While the rest of the world is tittering over the latest antics of a celebrity who is having a public nervous breakdown or psychotic episode, vegan feminists are too busy actively cultivating a whole different reality to notice or care. That's how cool and above it all we are.

We organize vegan bake sales that raise thousands of dollars to make the world a better place in our spare time, and, no, there's not a lot of time to spare what with these misogynist wing-nuts running around everywhere ruining everything. Still, we manage.

We are equally nimble at discussing the intersectionalities of oppression or this really great recipe we found for dairy-free Eggplant Parmesan. Some of us have also been known to talk about the really awesome shoes we found online.

Now that peak oil has come and gone, vegan feminists on bikes will be the incandescent symbol of the new world order. It’s inevitable: we will be the next icons. What? It’s not going to be a violently apoplectic tea partier with a stupid haircut, I guarantee it. Best to befriend a vegan feminist now rather than seem like a johnny-come-lately.

Despite our reputation of being a bunch of sanctimonious scolds, we have a great sense of humor, because, really, how could you live in this world and not have one? We can even laugh at ourselves. For example, how many vegan feminists does it take to screw in a light bulb? Answer: THAT'S NOT FUNNY.

With possible food shortages looming, vegan feminists are powerful allies. We cannot only make a great dinner out of just basmati rice, kalamata olives, vegetable scraps and a can of coconut milk, and we can organize a kick-ass potluck in our sleep.

We don't sleep, by the way. Too much to do. Like brainstorm meals and organize potlucks.

When life gives us lemons, we make organic, Fair Trade lemonade and we grate the rind for later use so as to not be wasteful, then we sell the lemonade to help support an awesome cause. Why? What do you do with lemons?

Some of us have children, some of us would rather adopt a pack of asocial, peri-menopausal jackals. Some of us wear make up, some consider lip balm an obvious doorway to selling out the sisterhood. Vegan feminists of today like to keep you guessing. In other words, we’re not all wearing hemp power suits and swaying to the dulcet harmonies of the Indigo Girls on our iPods. In other other words, watch what you say.

Looking for a book recommendation? Fiction [Science fiction? Dystopian? Fantasy? Young Adult? Post-modern?] ? Non-fiction? Biography? Memoir? We’ll send you our lists. Is it okay if they’re not alphabetized?

Who’s going to help you move? Who’s going to pick you up from the airport? Who’s willing to sniff the questionable Vegenaise? Well, it might not always be a vegan feminist, but if we say that we will do it, we’ll do it.  Why? Because we are dedicated friends who keep our word and because we are fearless.

Vegan feminists will listen to you complain about your life with sensitivity and understanding but hold you to a high standard of changing the things you can. Because we believe in you, that’s why, and because we don’t coddle.

When a local newscaster smugly narrates forage of a woman stripping to save the polar bears or minks or whatever, do not blame the vegan feminists for the bad press. Nobody consulted us on this.

Who’s starting wars? Who’s undermining unions? Who’s hunting deer and whales? Who’s letting their dogs poop everywhere and not cleaning up after them? Who’s generally screwing things up miserably? Not vegan feminists.

At the end of the day, or even the beginning, we rock because we’re funny, critically engaged, whip-smart, fierce, compassionate and consistent. Vegan feminists are hard at work trying to make the world suck a little less: what other subculture could say the same thing and be able to actually, you know, point to proof of it? 

If vegan feminists ruled the world, there would be beautiful gardens everywhere, Rush, Glenn, and Sarah would be the names of our poodle mixes, and chocolate would be a birthright (it’s all organic, Fair Trade and dark because we rule so we can just call it chocolate now). We’d have to dedicate no time to cleaning up messes caused by stupid, sexist, right-wing windbags and selfish corporate opportunists. What does this mean? More time for creative self-expression, bike rides and potlucks. This is why vegan feminists should just rule the day already.

Who’s with me?

Let's hear it for the weird kids!

After innumerable teacher's conferences, field studies and unsolicited comments lo these past eight years, I’m not leaping to any conclusions here to deduce that my son is perceived as a little strange by society at large. An odd duck. Maybe even weird. Not alarmingly weird, like the kind of boy a mother instinctively shields her own child from weird. On the contrary, he's the sort of boy that mothers tend to want their children to play with, at least that’s what I hear. He's well-behaved, he's witty, he shares well, he's articulate. But he's just...weird.

My son creates elaborate stories involving him and his friends having adventures catching ghosts and aliens and he draws plans for cat hotels with deep, winding underground tunnels. He could name four-syllable dinosaurs from the Cretacious period when he was five but he couldn’t tell you any characters from SpongeBob SquarePants. (Still can’t.) At his preschool, an idyllic place run by a painter almost as an artist’s retreat for young children, my son decided that in the year-end production of The Adventures of Frog and Toad he wanted to depict a Vegan Velociraptor rather than any characters already created. He settled for this as his second choice because his teacher didn't know how to begin to spell the Triassic era’s coelophysis.

Even at this artsy preschool with the bold paintings everywhere and interesting projects always being undertaken, my son was considered odd, not in a negative way, more like he was a rare museum acquisition, a gem to behold. He was adored, he was encouraged, but he was a little…strange. The message that I’ve consistently gotten is that every child is unique, of course, but that my child is a little more unique. “He has a rich inner world,” is how educators typically characterize him.

When he was two, my son burst out crying that whole autumn with the leaves falling from the trees, the life-and-death of it all bringing him to tears. I would tell him that the leaves would come back in the spring and he would point to a pretty red maple one on the ground and sniff, “Not that one.” I had no answer for that. He was far too tender for the local Waldorf school: all their plaintive songs about the cycles of life sent him wailing and scrambling past the pastel scarves to the door. That sensitivity, combined with his singular way of interpreting the world, has worked together to create an unusual child.

When he was three, my son was so spellbound by the Pompeii exhibit at the Field Museum that he insisted that we go straight home and start painting volcanoes immediately. For a year, I drained our library system of every possible volcano-themed book and movie. Every story he told, every drawing he made, my son found a way to bring it back to volcanoes. They reigned supreme until he learned about tsunamis, underwater volcanoes, which led him to deep-sea creatures, dinosaurs and evolution. His first band, created at five with a few of his friends, was called Bronto-Scorpions Don’t Wear Socks, the name of their signature song, with the lyrics being that phrase repeated over and over again.

Now eight, left to his own devices, my son would still have every article of clothing on not only inside-out but backwards. He can describe the movement of the tectonic plates but he has trouble bouncing a ball. He could explain the phenomenon of the Aurora Borealis to you reasonably well but he can’t figure out the mechanics of tying a shoelace for the life of him. He doesn’t care, though, because who has time to tie a shoelace when there are alternate universes to create? Shoelaces are a waste of time. Thank goodness for Velcro.

There is a long literary and cinematic tradition of weird kids – also identified variously as nerds, underdogs, freaks, spazzes – being celebrated as under-appreciated, often long-suffering, ultimately victorious heroes. From Charlie Bucket to the Harry Potter trio, the theme of triumphing over bullies, bad circumstances and danger is something that resonates with the human spirit. We feel emboldened by their courage, buoyed by their independence and uncommon grace. The underdogs’ willingness to forge ahead despite their obvious liabilities is deeply uplifting and we are inspired by the courage with which they take a less-traveled path. We like to imagine that we would do the same in their Velcroed shoes. Well-liked, accomplished and athletic characters aren’t juicy, rich or compelling. Our hearts are with the scrappy, weird ones. We like their spirits, we identify with their struggles and we root for them because if a weird child triumphs, it means that there is some equity and goodness in the world.

Weird kids out in the field, though, face a different reality because their enjoyment of life is contingent on how they are perceived and treated by other children. While almost all children side with Harry Potter over his mean-spirited cousin Dudley, they aren’t always kind to actual flesh-and-blood classmates who don’t fit in. Weird kids often eat alone. They can struggle to make friends without active parental involvement. They are among the last picked as partners or for teams. While the other children are scheduling play dates and squeezing in birthday parties, odd kids often live in a much different social landscape. They don’t necessarily mind this – many are not joiners – but at a certain age, they become aware that their peers have very different social experiences.

The message from adults should be that what makes the so-called weird children of the world tick is also what makes them wonderfully unique individuals and gives them the qualities that will get them far in life. Instead the message is that while it’s great to be different, for their own good, they don’t want to be too different. It is a protective instinct, I think, but I don’t believe it’s what’s best for their evolving spirits. As long as the children are kind and respectful to others, I honestly think that they should be left alone to develop their weird selves.

I would bet that Albert Einstein, Marcel Proust and Gertrude Stein were total weirdoes growing up. So were Thomas Edison, Emily Dickenson and Galileo, I’m sure. That sort of obsessive, singular vision, the total immersion not in simply perfecting their craft but becoming pioneers does not happen for those who prioritize fitting in at all costs. Weird kids are often “weird” because they have a different calling altogether. Like the very high-pitched whistles that are imperceptible to most human ears, I think these children hear (and see and think and feel) stuff missed by many others but it is so plainly obvious to them, they can’t help but respond to it.

Many wonderfully strange children of today will grow up to be great innovators, inventors, artists, peacemakers, novelists and problem-solvers. They are often the ones who are driving the world toward progress and new, creative, compassionate ways of thinking and living.

To us, it is perfectly normal that our son has a school for his cat with a daily schedule (kitty nap time, cat math, kitty climbing) on the chalkboard. He plies Clover with catnip and she occasionally indulges him when she’s not hiding behind the radiator. Today my son has Kitty School but in fifteen years, he could be developing curricula for a whole new educational approach. Maybe it will be one that honors and encourages the exquisite weirdness of all pupils.

The future of the world depends on these odd children blazing their new, wonderful, weird paths. Thank goodness for them.

The Emotional Pipeline of Food

Going down this very well traveled road of exploring food and emotions, I may as well start by saying that I was not a very happy child growing up. Or I could amend that to say that I was happy as a young child but went through a very dark time that lasted for years due to circumstances I couldn’t control. Tempers were unpredictable, confusing undercurrents influenced everything and most people couldn’t be trusted, so food became a source of consistency and reliability. When others failed, food was there for me. Coffee tables could easily be upturned in a fit of rage and my mother might have been pacing the house crying, but food was always a trusted companion. While life was uncertain, the top of a Hostess Cupcake would still always lift off in one piece, Wheat Thins would always taste exactly the same, one after the next. Food also helps to smooth over the edges, distract and numb us; it is an opportunity to feel better, or at least less bad, if only briefly.

Beyond the palliative effect food seems to have on most of us, the familiar tastes and scents of our childhood foods contain vivid memories and give us easy access to our emotional wiring. Jay’s potato chips will always make me think of my mother. Her favored snacks have always come from the salty-crunchy food group: sweets, she can take them or leave them, but popcorn, tortilla chips, corn chips and, most of all, potato chips make her feel instantly better. Potato chips bring to mind greasy paper plates and summertime, comfort and frustration fused together.

Catching a whiff of Hershey’s chocolate syrup instantly reminds me of my father, of drunkenly constructed sundaes at the kitchen table, of richness and bitterness swirled together. I remember the cans of Hershey’s syrup with triangles punctured into the lid, chocolate globs dried on top, always in our fridge. My father sought out sweet flavors like it was a genetic imperative: he had no interest in my mother’s bags of crunchy things, but if there was cake or brownies or ice cream in the house, he couldn’t help but devour the whole thing like a tornado. Whereas my mother has that enviable ability to eat ten potato chips and call it a day, my father was voracious in all matters and had no inner-mechanism for quitting once he started doing whatever it was that made him feel better. So when I smell Hershey’s syrup, I also think of desperation.

The influence of a Jewish grandmother who showered her family with love and home cooked meals probably cemented this merging of food and emotions together for me. Nothing will ever compare in quality to even her simplest grilled cheese sandwiches. I cannot think of my grandmother and not associate her with the smell of sizzling potatoes in vegetable oil, the intoxicating steam of matzo ball soup, perfectly crispy-and-chewy ruggelah, It is hard to think of her and not remember the comforting smells of her kitchen, of sitting at the kitchen table with my feet wrapped behind the chair legs, grating potatoes and onions, cracking eggs into flour and sugar. Her kitchen was a place to escape, a place where I was not simply accepted but adored. Even though her hands prepared it, her food was imbued somehow with my feelings toward her and my sweet grandfather: uncomplicated love and devotion, bites of gratitude and contentment that warmed me from a hollow place in my belly like a hot potato wrapped in foil. It’s no surprise that I have her photo up on my kitchen wall, along with her grater, rolling pin with the chipping red handles and ceramic set of containers. I’m not much of a collector of mementos, but one room in my house is different. Food is full of memories and emotions at times: my kitchen reflects that.

Not unexpectedly, when I became a vegetarian and later a vegan, I felt that schism from my past pretty profoundly. It was one thing to distance myself from unhappy times associated with food – I am glad to never eat a lamb chop again for many noble reasons, but self-centeredly, I’m glad because they remind me of Sundays, which remind me of when my father was home from work, which reminds me of tension, fights and tires peeling out of our driveway - but going vegetarian meant separating from comforting, warm memories as well. It meant saying goodbye to my grandmother’s Jell-O, always reliably ready for my brother and me. It was just Jell-O, a powder bought in a box, totally artificial but it was perfect because it was from my grandmother. The first thing we would do when we went to her condo was open her fridge and grab our cups of Jell-O: consistency, care and blessed predictability could be found in that wobbly gelatin. Giving up meat meant no more corned beef and meltingly tender potatoes that only my grandmother could make. Chicken noodle soup, kishke, raspberry jam dot cookies: gone, gone, gone.

I recognize missing my grandmother and the emotional connection with her is more significant than missing the specific foods she made us, though I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss that for a time, too. What she cooked for us felt sublime because it seemed to be infused with her spirit and the awareness that when I was eating it, I was happy: I was safe, away from my worries and I was with her.

I think we do a disservice to people struggling in their transition to veganism when we downplay or overlook how emotional food memories imprint themselves upon us and our psyches. I consider becoming a vegetarian at fifteen the best decision I ever made because it paved the way for so many other blessings in my life, but I have to acknowledge that there was a loss there, too. Just as giving birth to my son, the light of my life, was an incredible gift that I cannot overstate, there was a loss with it, too, of independence, of the freedoms I enjoyed before he come into my life. This is not to say that I ever for a moment regret having him but that things are not always so relentlessly upbeat.

Someone’s memory of fried chicken might be deeply intertwined with childhood and carefree summers at her grandparent’s farm. Another person might associate hamburgers and milkshakes with a particular restaurant, just him and his dad once a week, or, to someone else, chicken noodle soup with Ginger Ale was something her mother always gave her when she was home from school with a fever. Chicken salad sandwiches aren’t just chicken salad sandwiches: they are picnics with your cousins, a chance to see your parents smiling and turn your world upside-down by rolling down the hill. Corned beef sandwiches with mustard on rye are you and your papa sitting side by side at the lunch counter, him taking your cole slaw and giving you his potato chips, the way his breath always sounded, steady like an engine. Little Debbie snack cakes were you and your best friend, hiding out in your tree house every day that July: not as decadent as Hostess, but perfect for what they were because they were the food that transformed you into superheroes. When we eat these foods, we not only revisit familiar tastes that comfort us because we recognize them, we revisit familiar feelings that comfort us because of our memories.

A way out of the mental trap that our past is our destiny is to recreate the tastes and flavors you grew up loving. We are so fortunate to be living at a time that this is possible. There is a cookbook for every taste, from raw salads to comfort foods, as well as all manner of ethnic cookbooks within the vegan sphere. A trip to a well-stocked library is a great starting point. Asking an herbivore if he has any particular recipes will probably result in you getting a dozen variations – we vegans love to be helpful! – and I think that with an open mind, patience and a willingness to experiment, you could find a good staple of recipes that fulfill what you’ve been missing. Plus, there’s everything from egg-free mayonnaise to dairy-free melty cheese now to help you on your way, products not necessarily created for the vegan market but for people who have to cut down on animal products for health reasons. These are designed to taste as close as possible to what you grew up eating.

The first time I had matzo ball soup again after a twenty-year embargo, it was a revelation, like all those years melted away and I was with my grandmother again, sitting in her little yellow kitchen. The broth didn’t come from chickens and the matzo balls didn’t have eggs but that didn’t create any barrier to my grandmother. That place in my belly, no longer hollow but missing her sweet spirit, filled again, not with food so much as with her particular smile, voice, vibrant energy. I feel the same way when I use her rolling pin, creating things that nurture and nourish my family, make them smile. I hope that my son will grow up to continue the tradition, also feeding the people he loves delicious, nourishing, peaceful food.

Perhaps what is most important is that if we are craving the feeling of nurturance of long ago foods, we look inside and ask how we can create that sense in a more lasting, rooted way in ourselves beyond food. Veganism shouldn't be a barrier. When we think that we’re hungry for a specific thing – an omelet, a French dip sandwich, whatever - often we’re hungry for feelings and a time in our past. Can we cultivate an inner-source of nurturance, love and joyfulness that meets our deeper needs? If we can’t access that, nothing will fill ever us up.