Category: farming

The gray matter of veganism.

Laura Wild1 Comment

I always enjoyed consuming animal products. Though it’s been over five years since I’ve eaten any meat, I can’t deny that I don’t sometimes crave it, and I continue to occasionally consume animal by-products. The reasons I chose to eat more ethically are pretty standard;  I love animals, I’m horrified by factory farming, and think I’m healthier without eating meat. However, over the years I’ve also realized that simply not buying animal products is not a particularly effective way to end animal suffering, especially without being mindful of the numerous other ways I contribute to the meat industry. Recently I’ve begun to embrace a less rigid approach to veganism and I not only feel healthier but feel that my lifestyle is more sustainable, and in many ways has a greater impact on the lives of animals.

Like sexuality, spirituality or anything else one uses to identify themselves, dietary choices are not always something that can be easily explained. For me, being vegetarian is built on the basis of flexibility, and it seems to be working pretty well. It wasn’t always that way. When I first gave up meat I was happy to condemn everyone from ranchers to hunters and fisherman, but I still gladly consumed dairy products as my primary source of protein. I was in denial of the realities of the commercial dairy industry, and was somehow able to justify supporting it while I pointed my finger at other people. Since then my views have evolved, and I’ve come to accept that advocating a meat-free diet may not be the most practical way to support ethical consumerism.

In my experience I have found that some meat-eaters tend to view my lifestyle as privileged, and they aren’t necessarily wrong. When I look at the veg community in the Pacific North West, for example, I see a white-washed group of upper middle class liberals who are devoted to a strict brand of veganism that is not always welcoming to outsiders. A youtube search for vegan recipes brings up a multitude of videos made by urban stay-at-home moms, a demographic that only a small percentage of Americans can relate to. Do I condemn this group of people for their unbending and sometimes unattainable dietary choices? Not at all, I think it’s wonderful that some people have the resources to be healthy vegans and raise vegan families, but I do acknowledge that this is not the reality for many of us. Even I have trouble attaining the nutrient-rich vegetarian diet that I strive for, and I live a block away from Whole Foods. But it is not just the logistics of adopting a completely plant based diet that I struggle with, it is the elitism.

After volunteering on WiMo dairy farm, I was lucky to be able to eat all of the organic milk, eggs, cheese and yogurt that I wanted. While the conditions on the farm were not perfect (as I’ve detailed in some of my older posts) they were so much better than the norm. These cows were valued for more than the milk that they provided, and that made a world of difference. In Boulder, CO, raw milk is a hot commodity, and that is exactly where we sold the majority of our dairy products. Even with the support of the community, it’s important to note that the work required to maintain such an environment is not always economical; the farm I lived on never made a profit for their efforts, and barely broke even. When making a profit is the primary goal of a farm, the ethical standards start to drop significantly. As you can see in the picture above, mass-production dairy feedlots provide a very different reality for animals. As I saw first hand when I rode my bike by the Caballo Dairy in New Mexico, the abuse of veal calves is such standard practice on commercial dairies that farmers don’t even attempt to hide it from the public.

Do I think everybody is ready to embrace raw dairy products from ethical family farms? Though I wish it were the case, I have to say no; not when milk shares start at $20 a gallon. Until there is money to be made in the ethical agricultural business, it seems like it will continue to be an industry only for the elite. In my search for commercial dairies that don’t use veal calves, my results were just as depressing. My goal was to provide a list of cruelty-free brands of milk that are readily available, but I’m sad to say that none of the major commercial brands I researched made the cut. Without readily available cruelty-free dairy options and as most Americans continue to consider dairy to be a staple of their diet, one begins to wonder how best to conquer the high demand for cheap animal products. Instead of trying to find ways around supporting an industry that will always value efficiency over the health of animals, maybe we need to focus less on what we eat and more on where it comes from.

If not being able to give up your favorite foods is what’s keeping you from going veg, by all means, don’t give them up! Maybe you can’t give up your Toblerones and Hershey’s kisses but you’re ready to replace your hormone infused dairy milk with a much healthier plant-based alternative. Maybe you can’t give up any dairy products, but you can support a local farm by buying their pasture-raised beef. This method may not be perfect, but I still think it is a big step in the right direction. It is disconcerting to see two groups of people that are on such polar opposite sides of this issue. Can’t we all agree that supporting small businesses is better than giving all of our money to huge corporations? If so, then buying local is the first step.

If you love animals and you want to make a difference, do whatever you can to reduce your impact on their lives and, more specifically, their deaths. If that means you still enjoy the occasional steak or burger, don’t let that stop you from advocating for animal rights. If you think that confining calves in small cages and forcing them to stay immobile is wrong, take a stand against buying veal. Support ethical farms whenever you can, even if that means buying your steak from them; this part just may be the key to seriously changing the factory farming industry for good. It is up to us to define what the future will look like for livestock animals, and while a vegan world may not be on the nearest horizon, I think that a more ethical, free-range agriculture may be.

 

Veritas- a cooler word for the truth.

Laura Wild1 Comment

I never thought I’d return to the Southern Tier as a route leader; I thought my days of soul searching and daydreaming under the desert sun were over. When I got offered the chance to return to Bike the US for MS and ride across the country a second time, I laughed out loud. It was like a writer’s miracle; I finally had the chance to go back to all those infamous desert roads and rediscover what I had dubbed as my glory days. In a moment the world felt small again; I had been so sure that 2014 was my once in a lifetime opportunity to prove myself that I actually believed I had absorbed everything from the experience that I could. It goes without saying that I was wrong. Since that time I have learned over and over again that I could never possibly be done growing and each experience I have had has dwarfed the previous one. Now, as I sit a day’s ride outside of Phoenix (the same place I was abandoned two years ago) I realize that I have been looking for enlightenment in all the wrong places. To be honest, I don’t feel like I want to get all introspective and philisophical this time around. In fact, ironically enough I feel like I’ve gotten all of the roving and pondering out of my system for the time being. I’m happy to announce that this blog is no longer devoted to dramatic narratives of self-discovery, thank the lord. This time around, I’m writing the truth.

 
I passed a 200 acre feed lot the other day and it was absolutely horrendous. I was right outside of Brawley, California, so I can officially confirm that happy cows do not come from CA. I’m used to feedlots; I live in the Midwest and take a lot of road trips; but this one was the worst. It included the usual herds of oversized cattle confined to pastures full of two-foot-thick sludge, but it was also no less than 110 degrees out. That is torture for any living animal, and I don’t have to go into how intelligent and social cows are because I covered that in my last post. This particular feed lot was also connected to a slaughter house, and the sounds of cattle bolts and distressed cows could be heard all the way from the road. Hundreds of solar panels stood amoung them and provided the small shelters that the poor animals huddled under, exhausted and afraid, unaware that giant manmade eco-freindly machines were providing their shade. Once again, the irony was unbearable, but not as unbearable as that hot Mojave sun. No one could deny that a sight like this is terrible, and that the treatment of those animals is plain wrong. And yet, time and time again, we somehow manage to. We all do, even if we are only doing so by simply refusing to acknowedge the problem.

 
Maybe in a case like that, humans are too far removed from the problem to take action. After all, I don’t even remember noticing this feed lot the first time I rode by, and that’s probably because I was too preoccupied with my own stresses for the day. I think that too often people like me hesitate to even accept that such things are wrong, maybe because they feel insecure about not being able to stop it or maybe because they feel insecure about contributing to the very industry. Either way, a group of hungry cyclists facing a 90+ mile day are not the ideal candidates for proactive passerby. Of all the pictures posted on social media that day none were of the obviously depressing feed lot, and I’m sure those disturbing images were not even called to mind at dinner time when we stopped at a burger joint. Of course I don’t blame any of them. I do, however, blame the dangerous way of thinking that forces us to justify something that is so obviously wrong just so we can go about our days without having to carry the extra weight of acknowledging it.

 
Unfortunately, on the Southern Tier bike route it is virtually impossible to turn away from all of the abused and neglected animals, and many of them are not nearly as far out of reach. The evening before we got to Brawley we were camping in another small country town called Live Oak Springs. I was on the phone with Jenny when I found I was being followed by two skinny, mangy calico kittens and the first thing I said to her was, “Oh shit, now I have to deal with these kittens.”

 
It isn’t easy to drop everything and devote yourself to taking an animal to a shelter or finding their rightful owner, at least most of the time. Being raised by my kind hearted mother I have always prioritized the health and safety of animals, I think it’s just something that runs in my blood. Even so, I still only take action when I’m not able to justify not taking action. Only when I am sure nobody else is going to do something, especially on a bike trip where I am tired and emotionally drained, do I go out of my way to try and do something. I’m not proud of this, but because I rarely am convinced that other people are going to step in to help a neglected animal I find myself taking that role more often than not. If I had a car I’d save twice as many animals, but with only a bike I am usually reduced to harassing as many local people as it takes to get the job done.

 
In this particular case all I had to do was knock on the doors of a few camper trailers before I found the owners, and then I returned the kittens and suggested they be taken to a vet. In other instances, I have called the local sherrif and closest humane societys, trying to convince someone else to go out of their way to save an animal. I am delighted when I come into contact with a fellow animal lover who is more than willing to help me, but more often than not I spend a lot of time trying to convince people to make a call, or take a drive, or even refer me to somebody else. Everyone is just so busy, that without prioritizing animal welfare I don’t know how local law enforcement can even make a dent in the reports of animal abuse that they must receive. Especially in states like New Mexico and Texas where animal protection laws are virtually nonexistent.

 
The sheer amount of stray animals in the United States alone is overwhelming. The least I can do, besides try my best to help the few individual animals that I come across, is be honest about what I see. It is really the least anyone can do, but even that seems to make a differnce. Americans need to stop relying on the code of politeness and start intervening when we hear our aquaintences joke about blatant cruelty, and especially when we see it in action. If we can stop desensitizing ourselves to animal cruelty, and speak our minds when we come across something that is wrong, maybe animal abuse will finally go out of fashion.

 
Veritas means truth in Latin, and while that is a pretty fancy term to describe the theme of this entry, it felt pretty fitting. One of my fellow cyclists has it tattooed on his arm, and he explained to me today that he got it when he decided to live more truthfully and authentically. I won’t try to recreate his words, but what he told me inspired me to look up the word and I discovered that it comes from the name of an elusive greek goddess who embodied humility and truth. I guess she is my inspiration for the next few weeks that I will spend in the deep South, and as I pass through each town I’m going to document the treatment of animals that I witness exactly as I see it. In my quest to live a kinder and less destructive life I have fallen in and out of denial many times; once before I stopped eating meat, again before I spent time living on a dairy farm, and most recently when I witnessed the giant feedlot in Brawley that never made it onto a postcard. I can’t promise that my clumsy ranting won’t cause me to step on any toes, but don’t let that keep you from staying tuned for my next story! There is a fire lit beneathe me and I have never been more ready to speak the truth.

 

 

This is Calico, a highly creative name I gave to the healtier of the two cats. She was a stunner. For a less adorabe picture google Brawley feedlot.

 

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Redefining Paradise: An Intimate Look at the Life of a Dairy Cow

Laura Wild3 Comments

Whenever I shop at Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s, I see cartons of milk that depict happy cows roaming in vast, green pastures. Up until recently, the stamp of approval from the FDA reading “certified organic” had always been enough to convince me that I shouldn’t feel guilty about the industry that I was supporting.  After getting the chance to spend time with the animals who provide the literal “cream of the crop” to health conscience, white collar consumers, I began to redefine what the best case scenario truly means. I went on a quest to find out where all of these happy cows lived, but after a few months of searching I was only able to find a select few.

Not unlike many of the decisions I have made in my life, deciding to take another break from school to work on a raw dairy farm was an impulsive choice. With an intense love for animals and very little understanding of my impact on their lives, I decided it was time to immerse myself in a business that I relied on every day. While I haven’t eaten meat of any kind for almost 5 years, I still consume milk and eggs. The same brutal videos of factory farms and slaughter houses that drove me to become a vegetarian also drove me to seek the truth about the dairy industry, particularly the side that sells non-GMO and grass fed products.

My first week on a small acreage farm in Berthoud, Colorado, was a dream. I got a glimpse into the lives of animals who were obviously cherished and appreciated, and whose comfort and health was valued above their milk production. Each cow was affectionately named and had their own distinct personality, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with their simple, shameless innocence. They weren’t afraid of humans in the least, and quickly warmed up to me and accepted me into their herd. Each day we became more and more comfortable with each other, to the point that they would approach me for affection and attention on their own. It soon became evident that these animals were less like the other livestock on the farm – consisting of almost 100 free range ducks and chickens – and more like companion animals. These cows were more dynamic and intelligent than I had ever imagined, and those qualities paired with the fact that they were innately gentle and docile made them some of the most peaceful animals I had ever encountered.

However, as soon as I became aware that their quality of life was much better than the vast majority of livestock in America, I also became aware that even cows that are treated with respect and kindness are still far from living in paradise. The reality is that it is incredibly expensive to treat animals humanely, and unfortunately we live in a world where the value of innocence is much lower than the demand for affordable animal products.

Though local anesthetic is used for all of the procedures that are absolutely necessary for the cows on this particular farm, such as dehorning, I will say that the process is still very difficult to witness. The owners of the raw dairy would spend thousands of dollars to treat any injuries or illnesses that their cows acquire, but there is no denying that bovine medicine seems like something out of the civil war era. It isn’t pretty, and I think most farmers would agree that it isn’t ideal. One of the most common and most troubling practices on the farm is the separation of mother and calf. This usually happens after the babies are completely weaned off of their mothers, but it is still heartbreaking to listen to them call to each other for days after they are separated. This practice has been the most difficult thing for me to justify to myself.

Yet in commercial dairy, the treatment is so much worse. The meticulous cleaning regimen we use twice a day to wash the cow’s udders with human grade iodine is simply not practical on large scale diaries. Instead, the udders are rubbed with a flammable grease and all of the dirty hairs are burned off of their skin without anesthetic. This is not the worst case scenario, either, but common practice. Dehorning is always done without anesthetic, too, and calves are taken away from their mothers immediately after birth, after which the male calfs are often raised as veal. These are details that I had never wanted to believe before, but after seeing how brutal even a small family owned farm can be, I have no trouble believing what goes on in mass-production lots.

In the end, a life that includes some of the unfortunate practices that I have seen on the farm is still much better than the alternative. I wish I knew how to fix all of the things that do not seem right to me, but I just don’t have the answers. If humans are going to continue to use animals for our own benefit, then our relationship with them can never truly be altruistic. Unfortunately, I can’t suggest that everybody I know become vegan and believe that anybody actually will. It is simply too much to ask, and not a very realistic way to reduce animal suffering, anyway.

Still, I believe it is helpful to be aware of our impact on animals. If we can’t support small, family owned farms every time we buy animal products, we can at least try to decrease the amount of money we invest in commercially produced animal products. Because I ate meat for most of my life without thinking twice about where it came from, I can sympathize with anybody who doesn’t even want to acknowledge the reality of factory farming. But if anything is ever going to change, we simply have to confront the moral implications of consuming large quantities of meat and dairy, especially. Animals are not commodities, they are living beings. It is time that we cherish all animal life, and not just when it is most convenient to us.