That may be about to change.
On our way out to San Diego we whizzed
across the country in five and a half days on seventy-five mile an hour
interstate highways. Part of what I’ve
loved about the return trip has been the backroads route we’re taking home,
which has allowed us to really see America in all its glory and degradation.
Its hometown pride and its abandoned
towns. Its long held traditions and its
technological downfalls. Its amber waves
of grain and its drought decimated farms.
While I’ve been most disturbed by the
empty storefronts and broken windows that signify the desperate struggle
affecting so many of the people living in one-street towns across our country,
the children have become focused upon the plight of the animals. Specifically the cows.
At first we passed field after emerald
field of grazing cattle in all their bucolic beauty. Then yesterday we hit the industrial ranches.
In other words, the feed lots.
Just having heard about them and how they
treat the animals had been hard enough, but actually seeing them was almost
physically painful. Hundreds upon
hundreds of animals crammed into pens with nothing to do but stand in dirt
hardened by the blazing sun. Tiny
canopies give brief respite from the heat to a few, while the others mill about
trying to find relief in each others’ shadows.
Even their feed is dried out and in the 100 plus degree heat, water is
nigh on impossible for them to push through the crowd to reach.
Having to explain this inhuman treatment
of animals by humans to my children was tough, but having to tell them that this
is where all the beef we eat comes from was shaming.
Most difficult to process, though, was
the day we passed hundreds of miserable cows walking in each others’ filth who were
forced to spend their days watching the contented herd just across the street
grazing in the pastoral splendor of a tree studded field with a stream running
through it. This juxtaposition of sad
cows and happy cows caused much consternation in our car; and was the trigger
of a long conversation about the plight of the local farmer versus the
corporate farmer, and the temptation of the one to move into the ‘modern’ world
of the other.
It’s been an interesting verbal journey
that confirmed Sarah’s non-meat diet and began what I’m afraid is her voyage
towards veganism, although I’ve told her she can only become a vegan when she’s
prepared to make all her own meals to eat with the family. With all we’ve seen with our own eyes, though,
I think we’ve all felt pulled towards the meatless world
In the end I think William will continue
his carnivorous ways for now, as will the rest of us. But I hope the images of the happy cows and
the sad cows will stay with all my children and affect the food choices they
make in the future.
I know that I’ll be looking for meat,
poultry and dairy from local farms and small ranches where they treat their
animals with dignity and with the gratitude they deserve for providing our nourishment
like the one owned by the family we spent the day with today.
I may be a card carrying carnivore, but
at least I can do my part to support the small farms that were once the
backbone of our entire agricultural system.
To learn more about Connor's Army go to www.ConnorsArmy.org
To see exactly why we're doing this go to www.SunriseDayCamp.org
To make a tax deductible donation go to https://www.wizevents.com/register/register_add.php?sessid=1809&id=1056
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