blissful vegans

Dear Vegan White Woman,

I shared my opinion (via an article) on how it’s disrespectful for people to casually appropriate other cultures. For example, by wearing ritual headdresses, bindis, dreads and cornrows. You responded by asking me if I was the police now for whether or not you could date a person of color or still shop at your favorite sari shop. (You said a few other things, but those are the only two things I remember.) I did not respond to your comment. In fact, no one in the thread responded, because clearly no one was policing anyone. It was a discussion.

Because of this I believed that you think because you have access and the ability to purchase things that are from another culture, that it’s yours to take, use and wear. What I have now learned from this, is that it’s complicated. It’s true that you have access to select and purchase these items, but that doesn’t mean that it’s respectful to wear or use them.

I now realize that it’s confusing for people to have access to things and not understand why they can’t enjoy them. Perhaps someone might think, “but they sold it to me”. Well, it may have been a corporation’s choice to massively appropriate a culture. Like fashion magazines that call cornrows, “a new fashion braid” for the Summer. It may have been a mom and pop Indian shop that sold you your bindis, because they assumed you were using them correctly. You may have bought your faux ritual headdress online. However it was that you gained the privilege to attain these items, even as a gift, access does not equate respect.

It’s disrespectful for white people to wear cornrows, braids and similar hairstyles because it sends a message of entitlement and disregard to those who can’t. Yes, in 2017.  Here is an article documenting on how it’s happening right now in our own backyard: Black students at Massachusetts charter school served detention, suspended from sports teams for wearing hair in braids. So white people might think they look cute in cornrows and dreads, but they might as well wear a tattoo across their forehead that says “Fuck all you Black folx that get punished for wearing your hair like this. I can, so I will.”

This experience has enabled me to examine my own experience of appropriation. I have worn a bindi and sari before in my life. (What?!) Yes, but it wasn’t as a costume. I’m not saying that when you wear saris it is as a costume, but I am just sharing how I came about to wear several saris and Punjabi suits.

One of my best friends in high school was Gujrati. She and I meditated a lot together and so I spent a lot of time eating after school snacks with her, in her mother’s kitchen. Around that time, I started to study Hinduism seriously and so she and her family would invite me to ritual chanting events at her temple and bangla dances. So they would dress me up in saris and Punjabi suits, a million matching bangles and pick out bindis for me. It was on their terms, specifically for the purpose of attending their culture’s ritual events. I have never worn a sari or Punjabi suit, outside of this context. I didn’t end up converting to Hinduism.

That said, I may own some things that are ritual objects or appropriative clothes that I don’t know about. I don’t think I do. I could be wrong. I have forgiven you for your comments on my discussion thread. After all, you deleted them. I’m so glad I didn’t have to. I forgive myself for not reaching out to you about it. Instead I just boiled inside making assumptions about you. Maybe you’re Hindu and you also only wear your saris to temple? Maybe you’ve struggled with dating people of other cultures and you felt like I was saying you can’t? I don’t know you outside of a few animal rights campaigns. I acknowledge myself for being curious about your defensiveness. I really don’t want to be mad at you. I am grateful for your deleting your comment. I commit to keeping the discussion open. I hope we’ll have it one day.

May we heal the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

Dear Vegan Straight Woman,

Sometime last year, I hosted a retreat that overtly specified that people of the LGBTQ community were welcome. You wrote me a letter saying, “No thanks, I’m straight.” And I wrote back to you saying that “straight women were also welcome.”

Also during our exchange, I expressed that we had always created retreats that welcomed everyone. However, straight people always seemed to feel comfortable going to most events without discrimination, so I wanted to be overt about our inviting the LGBTQ community. (I regret not saying LGBTQIA, but that’s in the future.) I said we wanted everyone to feel comfortable attending and that only straight men were not invited to this event. You said, “That’s no fun.”

We exchanged a few more emails and you finally said:

“I wouldn’t be comfortable in such a closed environment where the lifestyle is “right in my face.” In most public areas it is easier to ignore.
But it’s your retreat place and you certainly have the right to invite anyone you want. I simply choose not to go. Thank you.”

What is this lifestyle that you speak of? Is there a way that we act that is offensive? What did you think was going to happen? Did you think we were all going force you to cut your hair short, try to convert you, start making out and pull out heroine needles? (My cranky words, not yours.) It’s this attitude, where we are lumped into a stereotype of your making. Perhaps a hedonist evil and/or a proselytizing cult. Trust me, there are plenty of reasons I don’t talk about being queer. One reason is my second partner committed suicide. Another reason, is because of people like you, who say harmful things.

Because of this, I believed that you hate LGBTQ people and our cultures.
FYI – There isn’t one culture. We’re as varied culturally as we are straight people. What I have now learned from this type of aversion, is sometimes people are just afraid of what they don’t know or understand.

I now realize that it can be a really confrontational experience to be around people that have different preferences than you. I find that when a person doesn’t want something “in their face”, it’s because they maybe they don’t want to ask themselves hard questions like, “Could I be queer?” “Would I like it?” “Who would reject me or stay my friend?” “Will people think I’m queer, because I attend an LGBTQIA-friendly event?” I feel like, if you took the time to ask yourself and were ok with the answers, you wouldn’t be bothered to be around us.  I would say it’s like being vegan, but being vegan is a choice; being queer is not. I can’t erase it from how I experience myself. I’ve tried. I now realize that it’s important to say that I am queer. This experience with you validated my reason even more for overtly inviting our LGBTQ family and community to this retreat.

I have forgiven you for saying those things. I don’t have time to hold your objections of us in my heart. I have forgiven myself for not telling you that your assessment of our lifestyle, included me.  I acknowledge myself for being afraid of being bullied or discriminated against by people that say and harm LBGTQIA family.  I am grateful for your reaching out to me, because now I know how important it is to continue to create invitations that don’t fit the hetero-normative status quo. I commit to overtly inviting our LGBTQIA family to all future events. I hope one day you’ll join us in this understanding.

May we heal the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

Dear Vegan White Woman,

Several years ago we were engaging in an animal rights action of bearing witness, and you started to talk with someone next to you about a woman’s body.

I didn’t see the photograph, but I didn’t need to. You said something to the effect of, “Clearly she could lose weight.” After that moment, I internally banned you from my cool list. Fat shaming, not cool. Vegans fat shaming, the worst.

Some people, even vegan doctors, like to say that vegans shouldn’t be fat. For who? For the vegan movement? For the animals? Nope. I think people should be themselves (.) I am not a health vegan, I am an ethical vegan. I think it’s a great side effect, that animals are spared murder, because people choose to become vegan for health reasons. However, this does not grant anyone permission to go around telling other people how they should live in their bodies.

Because you said this, I believed that it wasn’t safe for me or my fat and curvy friends to be around people that say body shaming things like you did. What I have now learned from this, is that I don’t care what fat shaming people think anymore. I now realize that I’m not more or less of an important person, because I don’t fit into some people’s definition of a “healthy vegan body.”

This experience enabled me to seek out other vegans who understand what it means to be respectful around or in the absence of those who struggle with sizeist, fat shaming and all the disrespect that goes along with objectification of our bodies.

Since this comment, I noticed you called yourself out on this perspective.
So I am happy to say, I have sincerely forgiven you for what you said. I have begun to forgive myself for not giving you the benefit of the doubt. I could stand to lose some of my pride around you. I suppose I could have “called you out” on it back then, but we weren’t there for that. We were there for the other animals that were being objectified for the consumption of their bodies.

I acknowledge your efforts for becoming aware of the way you fat shamed others and even yourself.  I am grateful for your saying that fat shaming phrase, because it pushed me to create a retreat for curvy vegans.

I commit to continuing the create celebratory spaces for curvy vegans and I am glad that you have begun to too. Thank you.

May we all continue to heal the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

 

Dear Vegan White Woman,

As you may have seen, I’ve been writing to other vegans, and it’s been really difficult. Each day, I actually need to gather my strength from profound sources to write these letters. I feel so vulnerable when I write them and release them.

I’m writing these letters, because I don’t want to feel the resentment or aversion of abandonment of my inner stories about you and our other white sisters. It’s not only white sisters that have done these things that I’ve been writing about, but sadly it is mostly.  Interestingly, I don’t find myself getting as frustrated with non-vegan white sisters. I guess somewhere inside of me there is an inner myth that white vegan sisters “should know better” and “have the power” to make things right or easier for women/people of color like me. That somehow you should be above the fold when it comes to compassion, because you’re vegan. Plus, since you have white privilege, I feel you have an obligation to use it wisely.

So my grievance with you, my white sister, is that to me, you abused these powers. I invited you to one of my ceremonies and instead of contributing the way that everyone else did, you offered to help me. Since you are a person of visibility and privilege, I accepted your offer to help me and honestly you haven’t really tried to help me. I heard from others that you had made similar offers to them and you haven’t helped them either. Because of this, I believed in the end that you didn’t truly intend to help me.

Since then, I have learned that being vegan does not equate increased compassion for all, especially human animals, and maybe not even for non-human animals. Being vegan is an opportunity to increase our compassion, but we don’t all take it. I now realize it’s my responsibility to help myself and to do my best to support the vegans of color and all human and non-human marginalized communities in my life. This experience with you has enabled me to be extra mindful of my own visibility, privileges and strengths.

I have forgiven you for not fulfilling your promise to me. You might say, “I didn’t promise.” For me, my word is my promise. I have forgiven myself for shamefully falling for a version of a”white (vegan) savior” myth. There isn’t a white woman that can help me more than I can help myself. I know now, there are only white sisters who are willing to uplift me and help me, while I uplift and help myself. I am grateful for these white sisters. I acknowledge myself for wrongfully viewing myself as too small and too powerless to be my own savior.  We aren’t saviors. However, I am my own best friend. And you’re just another precious human sister. I am grateful for the times you’ve shared your vulnerability and time with me. I am grateful for the things you do put your heart in to, for us all.

I commit to continually learning about my privileges. I commit to not taking my visibility for granted. I commit to healing the divide between us, in the small ways that I can. I may not reach out to you, but know sister that I am connecting with you in my heart.

May we all heal from the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

Dear Vegan White Woman,

Several years ago, I attended a networking event that you were at. Over a year before this event, we had met at a separate event, and we casually spoke about co-hosting a retreat together. I wrote you about discussing the possibility of doing a retreat together and you didn’t call or write me back. Not hearing from you wasn’t what concerned me.

It was at the networking event, where we quickly said hello before the event began, that I was disheartened.

During one of the breaks, you introduced me to someone and said, “Oh, this is Bee. She and I are going to do a retreat together!”  I was absolutely taken aback by this statement. I thought, “What? I haven’t seen you in over a year! Who said anything about doing a retreat together?!”

When this happened, I was offended that you would make such a presumption without discussing it with me first. Maybe you thought it was a compliment? Because of this I believed that you didn’t have any respect for me or my work, other than to co-opt it in someway for your own gains.

What I have learned from this is to be really careful about who I even casually suggest working with. I now realize it’s up to me to set really clear boundaries as to who I trust. This experience enabled me to carefully discern whether someone is respectful of me, my work and how we will work together. I’ve learned to raise my standards and seek complete alignment with my co-facilitators; even if it’s for just the one event we might share.

I have forgiven you for the way you introduced me.  I have forgiven myself for not speaking up at the time.  I’m aware that I have been inconsiderate in my event planning at times. I’ve usually been messy with my boundaries when I was in financial fear or hoped that I would gain some traction in my business growth if someone liked me. I acknowledge myself for being careless during these times. Now I am more concerned with being in alignment with my values, rather than worried about money or acceptance by others.

I am grateful for you, because immediately after that exchange I made it a point to sharpen my alertness people at that event. It’s so much more important to me now, more than ever, to know who is in alignment with my values.

I commit to honoring those who I choose not to work with, to honor who choose not to work with me, to honor those I have to privilege to work with and to honor myself when allowing others to work with me. I’m not perfect, but I am honest. Who knows, maybe we’ll host a retreat together one day! Funnier things have happened!

Thank you for listening.

May we heal the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

Dear White Vegan Person,

I started to write this letter to you, and sadly started to remember other occasions where this has happened differently with others. So I may save those for other letters. To remain authentic and clear, I will just speak about this particular occurrence with you.

Some time ago, an outreach event (insert vegan event here) that was designed to be informative and fun for the local community was created by white people and presented by mostly white people. A cis woman of color thought it would be a good opportunity to finally bring some of the local vegan leaders of color in to the fold. When it was presented to you, you didn’t seem impressed or particularly enthusiastic. This felt hurtful and condescending for her, like an “eye-roll”. However, your team members thought it was a great idea, so vegan leaders of color were added to the program that time.

I don’t know if you didn’t know of any vegan organizers or leaders of color in the local community, but at the time it wasn’t apparent in the your program that local vegan leaders of color were important to your event. I believe you’ve since included some vegans of color from various areas outside of the local area. Although it’s visually a helpful effort, it felt tokenizing from another perspective.

Because of this story, it appeared that you don’t value local voices of color. I don’t believe this is inherently true, because I know your work and I don’t think you believe that. I believe you have a good heart and that you want to do what’s right, meaningful to the local community and your wish is to make a positive impact.

What I have learned from this, is that I need to continue to value local vegan voices of color. This experience has enabled me to focus on what it means for me to be inclusive. It enabled me to invite or recommend local vegan leaders of colors to events that warmly and overtly welcome us.

I have forgiven you for not uplifting my voice and some of the the local voices of vegans of color that live in the area that you curated your event in. I am beginning to forgive myself for boxing you in the “another white vegan event” category. I acknowledge myself for doing the work to let go of how you run your events.

I am grateful for the opportunity you’ve given vegans of color to continue to be part of the planning and presenting at your current and future events.  I am committed to creating events that are inclusive of the local vegan thought leaders of color. Even if it’s just to share a meal with one or several of us.

I hope this makes sense. It’s a difficult subject, but I’m trying to just be present to my own experience of this story. It’s a messy job, but I need to do it for my heart.

Thank you for your time.

May we heal the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

Dear Vegan White Woman,

Some time ago, a cis-woman of color I know wrote you a letter about other women suffering from harm. They were suffering from receiving harm in regards to their race, sexual preferences, their concerns about xenophobia and their general experience of being lied to and disrespected. She wrote this letter to one of our communities, because she was concerned about the young teens and new vegans in the community that were beginning to get involved in more animal rights work. She wanted to protect them from experiencing the same harm that happened to her and the other people.

Your response to her was, “I’m sorry to hear about your issues with (insert animal rights group). I would prefer not to be included in any emails about these kinds of controversies. Thank you and good luck.”

This woman of color felt very hurt, insignificant and dismissed by your tone. I recall her saying, “Why wouldn’t she want to know about something that could effect her teenager? Her child wants to be an animal rights activist one day!”

I was appalled to hear this. I was in shock to hear this about your response. I know you are active in this vegan community.  If I’m completely honest, it’s because of incidents like this that I began to become suspicious of vegan white women’s trustworthiness. It’s hard to hold the thought that some vegan white women don’t want to hear about the struggles that don’t apply to them.

However, there was a silver lining. This experience enabled us to reach out to other vegan people of color. We began to create our own space for vegans of color. We knew and know other vegan POC (people of color) weren’t going to say, “I don’t want to know about these kinds of controversies” to eachother. This is our daily life.

I am beginning to forgive you for your dismissal.  I’m beginning to forgive myself for sticking you in an “all white vegan women are ignorant until proven woke” box. I’m still afraid to reach out to you after hearing about this. Hearing your response to this incident, I still feel like you don’t want “our dirty struggles” to make a mess in your tidy world. (These are not your words, it’s just how i feel.)

However, I’m holding the realization that sometimes it’s too painful for some people to look at others suffering. I know your life isn’t easy. You’ve shared some of your most private secrets with me. It’s hard to hold the suffering of others, without some training, especially when we think we have enough suffering of our own. Given my years of training in Buddhist meditation, I have the tools to hold the suffering of others. I know I won’t run out of love. I hope one day you can experience this kind of love. Maybe you already have begun, but I just don’t know enough about you anymore.

These letters are my way of acknowledging what happened. It’s not meant to shame you. It’s just part of my healing, our healing. I am grateful for your helping us to seek and reach out to other vegans of color.

I still feel a tinge of abandonment while writing this, but I commit to continuing to unpacking my side of this disconnection. This is just letter one.

May we be healed from the illusion of separation.

Blissful wishes,
Bee

I’m starting this blog, Blissful Vegans, as a way to share a series of personal “open letters” in response to several significant events that have happened to or around me.

1) Good Grievance. Instead of a virtuous “gratitude list”, a friend of mine suggested I write a list of grievances, I am aware of, as a queer cis-womxn of color and member of the vegan community. This list is to include things I’ve either experienced directly or witnessed in some way. I thought this was such a caring and thoughtful suggestion on his part. I love making lists, but I never thought to make a list of these concerns. It actually made me teary-eyed that he suggested I give myself permission to give voice to these heartaches. So I’m looking at it as a gesture of self-care. Giving these difficulties a place outside of my heart is a clear and tangible way to unburden my heart from holding these worrisome grievances all by my lonesome. Also, instead of just writing a list, I thought I’d write each story in the form of an anonymous “open letter”.  Maybe they’ll remind you of some of your stories.

2) Our Struggle for Peace. It’s not going to be about complaining for the sake of complaining. I have a long time habit of finding ways to challenge myself to find tangible solutions to get back to my inner and outer peace. Besides, anger and frustration just make me restless, uncomfortable and unhappy. (I really really like being comfortable in my body and mind.) I don’t believe that ignorance is bliss. I think this phrase is really a euphemism for “indifference is numbness”. We can all stand to be less ignorant, myself included. Plus, I realize I’m not alone in these struggles.  So I want to share these thoughts in hopes that it might bring peace of mind to others who might feel the same way and or have come across similar incidents.

3) 30 Day Startup. They say it takes 25 days to break a habit. Right now, I have a habit of blaming specially selected people (or groups of people) for certain things that upset me. (Anyone else do this?) In order to end the painful and frustrating blame-game in my heart, I’ve made a 30 day commitment to begin actively engage in grounding, connecting, feeling and exploring solutions for change or acceptance around these difficult topics. Plus, being public will help me stay accountable. So thanks for being my accountability buddy. Warning: Sometimes topics will repeat, because after all, I’m trying to break a habit.

4) The Taste of Freedom. I’m an ethical vegan that loves a great meal, but nothing tastes better than the freedom to feel peace and blissful joy in our hearts. In order to really taste my wishes for an ideal future, my intent is to offer to myself and others (in my little corner of the world), the potentiality for slices of freedom from ignorance, oppression and suffering. How? By exploring my heartaches with authenticity and sharing my attempts to travel back home to love in my heart. I hope it helps you in a small or gigantic way. I’m still learning, so I hope you’ll have wisdom to share with me too.

In the end, my wish is for all of us, including vegans, to be able to find our way back to being our own version of blissful vegans. Even if it’s just for a moment. There’s value in such a moment, because it gives us a reference point to return to.

Also, a few people have been asking me to record meditations for them for a while, so that might become a part of this daily ritual. Let me know if you want access to the meditations too.

Thank you for your time.

Blissful wishes,
Bee