Wednesday, July 24, 2013

The Lobster

The lobster may be the gateway animal for veganhood.

For coastal New Englanders, lobster-eating is a summertime luxury. The bib, the mound of steaming corn-on-the-cob, the watery cracking of the shell, the large silver pot, the thick colored elastics. Native residents and visitors look forward to hot, sandy days on a damp towel overlooking the Atlantic and the subsequent late afternoon feast.

Here's the elephant in the room for my family members, though: I was never keen on the taste of cooked lobster. I remember enjoying it just one time as a kid, though I think that had more to do with the big bowl of butter. But after that day, I found the richness and texture of the delicate, pink clawmeat off-putting. As much as I love the ocean and the mysterious beauty of its plants and animals, the idea of tasting anything from it makes me gag. (Seaweed can occasionally be tolerated under heavily-seasoned conditions.) I even forced myself to retry lobster several times as an adult, thinking my tastes had matured, but no.

In short, not eating lobster was easy.

But as a kid, I watched their dark maroon bodies waving and arching frantically as they were taken from the brown paper bag and lowered into the boiling water before being let go to sink. It seemed horribly wrong. Their claws were even clamped shut, so their last defense for living was taken. The lid was pushed down and the clanking noises from inside the pot made my eyes widen. I knew how much it hurt to have a drop of boiling water hit my skin and how much the mark hurt for the next couple of days. What would it be like to have your whole body lowered into a tank of it?

And what got me was that it never seemed to bother anybody else. Perhaps it did, and nobody else was speaking up, lest it exacerbate my angst. But it was so unimaginably cruel and barbaric to me. I'd run away and cover my ears tightly so I wouldn't have to hear them fight the edges of the pot.

I find it hard to believe that I was the only child or adult bothered by this. We're usually not charged with killing animals ourselves. Instead, most of us pay the service of having others do it for us. Seeing the animal alive immediately before we kill and eat it is a unique experience nowadays. And for me, at least, it made me consider all animals' experience of death for my palate.

The argument has long been that lobsters don't feel pain. It's a rather self-serving argument, when you think about it. We can dump them in scorching water and not feel bad about it. And it's simultaneously fascinating, because most people would acknowledge that cows, pigs, and chickens experience pain, but that doesn't stop us paying others to kill them. We know they are in pain, but we do it anyway. So what makes people so defensive about lobsters' pain? Why go to such lengths to explain it away?

An ABC report from 2005 noted that animals with simple nervous systems, like lobsters, didn't experience pain. 
"I think that individuals, based on their heritage and their genetic makeup, do project their emotions onto animals," said Richard Cawthorn, director of the Lobster Science Center at the University of Prince Edward Island in Canada, who supports the research finding that lobsters do not feel pain."When people do anthropomorphize animals -- even cartoon animals -- it reflects our needs and our desires," said Stevens. "It's more of a political agenda than any kind of scientific or social discussion of the issue."
Excuse me while I compose myself after reading those snooty remarks. A political agenda? How is it political to protect someone from being hurt? We call that empathy, buddy, not politics. And what's more, he works for the Lobster Science Center, whose website reads  -- get this --  "Our research is based in the areas of lobster and crustacean science, focusing on the health of lobsters, crab and shrimp as they are a significant part of the economy in Eastern Canada." A significant part of the economy? And who has the political agenda here? Methinks someone wants to keep his job and eat lobster. (And don't even get me started on the word anthropomorphize.)

Later studies, though, showed that crustaceans were, in fact, feeling pain. D'uh.

In 2009, NBC reported the work of Robert Elwood, a professor in the School of Biological Sciences at The Queen's University in Belfast, and Mirjam Appel, a colleague. 

Elwood and Appel gave small electric shocks to some of the crabs within their shells. When the researchers provided vacant shells, some crabs — but only the ones that had been shocked —left their old shells and entered the new ones, showing stress-related behaviors like grooming of the abdomen or rapping of the abdomen against the empty shell. 
Grooming, as for a person licking a burnt finger, "is a protective motor reaction and viewed as a sign of pain in vertebrates," the researchers wrote.
...If crabs are given medicine -- anesthetics or analgesics -- they appear to feel relieved, showing fewer responses to negative stimuli. And finally, the researchers wrote, crustaceans possess "high cognitive ability and sentience."  

Elwood was also quoted in a 2013 Business Insider article titled "SCIENTIST: Yes, That Lobster You're Boiling Alive is Probably in Real Pain."     

Elwood told AFP [Agence France Presse] it was impossible to prove beyond doubt that the animals feel pain, but the research results were "consistent" with pain and added: "Perhaps we should err on the side of caution." 
Elwood said billions of prawns, crabs and lobster are caught or reared for human consumption every year and treated in "very extreme ways." 
"Crabs have their claws torn off and the live crab is thrown back in the sea. Lobsters and prawns have the front half of the body torn off from the abdomen which is kept for the meat. The nervous system in the head and thorax is still functional an hour later." 
The biologist said many people assumed that because crustaceans do not have a brain resembling that of vertebrate animals, they could not feel pain. 
"Crustaceans are invertebrates and people do not care about invertebrates," he said. 
"More consideration of the treatment of these animals is needed as a potentially very large problem is being ignored."
So yes, Virginia, animals do feel pain. Being thrown in boiling water tends to hurt a lot.

Lobsters provide people with a unique moment of seeing the animal as someone living and fighting to stay alive, not as an inanimate thing. That we argue so strongly against their feeling pain is very telling. We don't want to think of ourselves as someone who would intentionally cause suffering. 

But I wonder if there are other kids and adults out there who are watching how lobsters react to being put in that pot. I can't be alone in this. If I were, people wouldn't be arguing against it so strongly, because who cares what one piddly naysayer thinks. 

Nope. I suspect there are many others whose conscience is nagging them on this issue. And who knows where that might lead?

***

PS. Since I was small and pushed my nose up against a lobster tank, I've longed to free them. I dream of buying the entire tank of lobsters, renting a boat and taking it far far out on the ocean (away from lobstermen's traps), carefully removing the blasted elastics, gently placing the lobsters back in the icy water, and letting them go. They will float downward to the ocean floor, far from boiling pots, and live out long lives. 

Yes, I realize it doesn't make much sense to pay for them, as it only supports the industry that kills them. But I dream about it anyway. Because if I were born a lobster, I would hope someone would do the same for me.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Enlightened?

About three weeks ago, I wrote a feature for Our Hen House called "Just a Joke."  It centered on how humor either includes or excludes others, and how we can react when the latter form is used to make light of animal abuse. A week or two after the feature was published, it was quoted in a front page Yahoo article. This was amazing and incredibly flattering, and yet a bit nervewracking at the same time. (I don't mean to sound falsely self-deprecating, but I kept thinking, "Why on earth are they quoting me? I'm just  ... me." I think I will forever feel like my dorky nine-year-old self.)

The article talked about a Red Robin restaurant commercial that had upset many vegetarians. (I hadn't actually seen the commercial at that point.) I vowed not to look at the comments section, as they can get notoriously nasty. But after only a few hours of being up, the article had garnered over 13,000 comments. Gulp. (A good gulp, but a gulp nonetheless.)

Some of the people followed the link to my original article on Our Hen House, and left comments. Let's just say most of them didn't agree with me. And a few were livid. Which is fine. I'm completely good with engaging dialog, as long as everyone remains respectful.

What surprised me, though, was my own internal reaction to someone's suggestion that I was acting enlightened. I felt my defenses go up at that word. "I don't act enlightened!" I fumed inwardly.

I thought about that comment off and on for the next few days, mostly because it bummed me out. I  really make an effort to not come across as Ms.-Buddha-on-a-hill-smugly-smiling-down-on-the-little-people, since I'm clearly bumbling and tripping along the path along with everyone else. (I just happen to babble as I bumble.) But the more I thought on it, the more I wondered about that word, what it really meant, and why its connotations were so negative.

Merriam-Webster defines enlightened as this: "freed from ignorance and misinformation." And I thought, "Well, hold on now. That's not so bad." I was ignorant before learning about what is done to animals. (Turning back to Merriam Webster, ignorant means "unaware; uninformed.") I wasn't idiotic, stupid, or cruel. I was just unaware. And misinformation? I was chock full of it. I thought humane slaughter was quick and that the animals didn't suffer. I thought cage-free meant beautiful pastures. Wool? A wonderful haircut in the summertime. What's wrong with that?

And I began to realize that I am enlightened. And that's not a bad thing. It's something we all strive for. Don't we all want to be freed from ignorance and misinformation? I took one of the best courses of my life recently, on teaching science to elementary grades. Upon learning oodles of great teaching techniques, I realized I'd been a woefully inadequate science teacher despite my best intentions. I immediately applied the newly learned strategies to my States of Matter lessons. The changes that took place in my students as a result took me by surprise. Suddenly they were enamored with the scientific process. Kids were voluntarily writing in their Science Notebooks during recess -- recess! -- expanding on their new ideas and questions. They'd lie on their bellies, tongues sticking out the sides of their mouths in great concentration, furiously writing away. And I wondered if one of these intent writers would someday discover the cure for cancer. Thanks to a terrific university teacher, I was enlightened, and now 24 kids were enlightened. I was grateful that he freed me from ignorance and misinformation. Grateful and humbled.

Being enlightened on anything means you know more than you did before. And then, if you choose, you can pass that information on to others! This is especially powerful when it means suffering for victims -- especially voiceless ones who need all the allies they can get -- might lessen as a result.

Enlightened doesn't mean "you're a complete ding-dong, let me explain things to you." It has nothing to do with being a more moral or superior person, if that is even possible. It's just mindblowingly cool. When you read a captivating book, you are enlightened in some way. You are changed. I started following a blog about a couple that has an adorable child with Down's Syndrome. It enlightens me every time I read it. My many misconceptions get an education. The way I view the world is altered.

So I'm fine with enlightenment now. And the amazing part is every person is enlightening in some way. We all have many things to teach or pass on.

There's this fun game we sometimes do at school in Morning Meeting. You start with your group seated in a circle and the first person throws a ball of yarn to someone else with one hand while holding on to the end of the yarn with the other. The new person holding the ball of yarn (who is attached to the original thrower by that long, connecting strand of yarn) holds her piece of the yarn and throws the ball to someone else. And the process continues until the whole class is connected in a cool, spidery web. It's that interconnectedness that really illustrates enlightenment. We learn, we share, we get stronger from each other.  

You bet I'm enlightened. Wouldn't have it any other way. It's a badge everyone should wear with pride.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Serenity's Return

(Written last Sunday, but my website host has been acting funky the last two days, and I haven't been able to publish.)

Ahh.... calm is settling. As I sit back this lovely Sunday evening, all the laundry is done, a fantastic dinner is sitting happily in my belly, the kitchen is clean, and the house is regaining a sense of order. Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Song Book plays spunkily in the background. You haven't lived till you've heard her sing "It's Too Darned Hot." What a great tune.

If anyone is following this blog with any regularity, I extend an apology for being so silent. I always find it disconcerting when a blog suddenly goes quiet. "Are they okay?" I wonder. "Have they stopped posting for good? Did something bad happen?"

Nope. All is well. I've been productive and, as much as I missed writing posts here, there was an angry and disgruntled line of  "you-can't-put-us-off" tasks awaiting. Many are now done (or partway done) and I'm feeling sheepishly proud of myself.

SIMPLIFY
For two months, I have been decluttering like a woman possessed, and last weekend we had a monster yard sale.

A while back, Tammy Strobel's You Can Buy Happiness (and It's Cheap) arrived at my library. I was immediately smitten by her story and inspired to simplify a life that had become very spread out.

I'm also a huge fan of Peter Walsh, of Oprah fame. Several years ago, I got his book It's All Too Much and subsequently shed layers of stuff that no longer held importance in my life. Recently I came across his newest book in the library entitled Lighten Up! which focuses more on finances, clutter, and life choices. Very eye opening and just what I needed to hear. It was good kick in the pants.

As a result, our house has been a bit frightening looking for the past few weeks as I've gone room from room, deciding what I wanted to keep and what I was ready to kiss goodbye. Boxes upon boxes of things that once were important stood in precarious Leaning-Tower-of-Pisa arches about our home. (On the upside, the cats had a blast. It was like Disneyland for them.) Among the cast-offs were tons of baby things for the baby that never arrived. Knitting paraphanelia when I thought I'd become a knitter. My enormous children's literature collection that wasn't being read. And big people books. (I'd say adult books, but that could be misconstrued.) So many books. What had I been thinking when I bought them all?

Naturally, a lot of feelings resurfaced like vague echoes. Decluttering can be a skewed and often unwelcome trip down memory lane. The baby stuff, in particular, was something I'd avoided for years, after packing it away in the attic. Out of sight, out of mind. Except it wasn't really out of mind. It was a weight I didn't realize I carried, like a sad ghost haunting me from above. Now it's gone and I feel like a new person.

There's still more to do. Even though I got rid of a lot of attic things, for example, I want to go back and do another sweep to organize what's left. We continue to sell things on eBay. But having so much meaningless stuff gone is an incredibly liberating feeling.

SHED
We finally finished the shed! It was my Dad's design and project and it's gorgeous! He did most of it, with Ryan and I just filling in here or there doing odd jobs on it. And now our lawnmower and other unsightly objects are finally out of our living room! Once we organize and clear our tools out, we can actually have people over again! And they can bring their kids without worry of the children getting into our saws! Luxury.

We're getting our life back.

YARD
I redesigned a large portion of our yard last fall and had a lot more work awaiting me in the past month as the soil awoke. There is literally a lot more ground to cover, but I've made great strides and am really thrilled with the progress! (Pictures will be posted soon...) Ryan disassembled the large fence -- we gave it away on craigslist -- and it's opened up the yard. We're at the point where neighbors are beginning to come by and comment on the amazing difference. I squirm like a child being praised for drawing a pretty picture.

I've also begun our garden. All the cold crops are coming up nicely and I'm putting in all our summer things tomorrow after visiting our favorite local garden center. Picking up my vegetable seedlings is one of my favorite tasks of the year. I can't think of a happier chore! [added Monday note: I just planted everything!]

CLASS
I just began taking an 8-week, 3-credit online graduate course at Wheelock College about teaching science at the elementary level. I actually adore online classes, and I suspect I may be one of the only people who does. Taking classes in Boston, though, can take a huge bite out of your wallet, what with the exorbitant parking fees. So I'm content sitting home at my computer and doing the work from there. :) I have two one-credit courses after this one and then I am done with my post-graduate classes! Huge sigh of relief.

KITTIES
We had a big scare a week and a half ago when Sergio, one of our two indoor kitties, escaped the house unnoticed. He's gotten very good at slipping by me when I get home but I usually catch him right away. This time, though, he was gone. Just gone. He didn't hang around and howl after he'd gotten outside. There was no sign of him for about 8 hours. We'd searched the neighborhood from about 5:00 - 10:30, plastering posters of him everywhere and calling to him constantly. We finally came home dejected and heartbroken and settled into the living room, where we unenthusiastically ate our dinner whilst keeping our eyes peeled outside.

And then suddenly he walked up to the back door and meowed. I ran over, let him in, and sobbed. Sobbed like a baby. I thought my boy of 15 years was gone for good and my heart had been broken into tiny shards of glass. And then by some miracle he was back.

Every day that I see him now, I thank my lucky stars. He's such a sweet cuddlebug.

Meanwhile, our other kitty Kaci, has been rapidly losing weight. All the tests came back saying everything was as it should be, so we were mystified.  But she's been endlessly ravenous, so it struck us that she just wasn't properly absorbing the nutrients in her food. The vet gave us some different medication, though, and she's perking up quite a bit in just two days. She even seems to be putting on weight again. We'll bring her back on Wednesday to have them recheck her weight.

I never want to be the person that makes their animal companion survive miserably just for the sake of surviving a few more months. But if she can thrive again, I'm all for that! So we've got our fingers and paws crossed!

WRITING
I've started to do more regular writing for both Vegbooks and Our Hen House, two terrific websites that I've long admired. Every two weeks, it seems, a new book arrives on my doorstep from a random book company, ready to be reviewed. (In the spirit of keeping the house clutterfree, though, I give the books away as soon as the review is finished.) It's work I love to do, though, as writing is just plain old fun and the subject matter always interesting.

***

So that's the scoop. I have many new ideas I want to write about and am glad to be back!