I am not a vegetarian

I am not a vegetarian. Neither is my son. Nor is my husband. And yet none of us eats meat or living things. Confused? You see, I have finally come to realize that despite what I have been telling people for years, we are not what we eat.

I am a person who loves life, who values all breathing, living creatures. Because of that I don't contribute to their torture and consumption. I don't cook once-living beings in my home, and my family doesn't eat them either. As a result, we feel more closely connected to living things and closer to the earth. But I am not a vegetarian.

Nor am I a writer, a mother, a teacher, a wife, or a friend. The person I am is multifaceted, so much more than one thing, one label. I am lots of things; a person who loves to write, someone raising a child, a person who facilitates and helps others to explore new ideas, a life partner to my husband, someone who loves to chat and laugh and even cry with those closest to me, and yes, someone who does not eat living things. Labeling people makes the world simpler for us all, but it also constricts our view of one another and of the world. When we reduce people to labels--a black man, a feminist, a brat, a vegetarian, a stay-at-home mom, a student, a single parent--we all make instant judgments about the meaning behind those labels; they whisper to us, somewhere inside our heads. And none of us, I would be willing to bet, fits snugly into any one label. We are much, much more than the labels imply.

It is during times in my life when I have been most consumed by one label or another that I have felt swallowed up, as though the burden of the label itself was enveloping me and keeping me from being all of the other things I am in my life. When my son was first born, I was totally in awe of him, and I lost the sense of myself as a separate person while trying to be a new mother. As a result I was not able to fulfill my roles as wife, daughter, friend, worker--even self--as I once did. I felt like I was losing the prisms of light that had suspended my soul for so long and that were intrinsically part of the fabric of who I was. And so before drowning in this new role of motherhood and losing sight of my own true self with all of its many different pieces, I stepped aside and remembered to be myself first. I missed the person I used to be before I was mother to my son. I knew that I had to regain that sense of self when I wasn't busy nursing, soothing, changing diapers, and "mommying." So I set the 15-minute rule for myself. Every day I would pause and spend 15 minutes just for me. That might have meant taking a hot bath, flipping through the pages of a magazine, calling a friend or family member, sipping a cup of tea or taking a walk. Before you can be anything, you must be you, the core of who you are when the labels are removed, your true authentic self.

My son just recently began preschool this fall, and I was tempted somewhere in mid-August to call up his teacher to let her know that he is a vegetarian. But I didn't. Instead I chose to discuss with her what he is like in his totality. I told her that he loves to do experiments, make his own snacks, and paint at an easel. He loves books and puppets and other people. He still needs help with the bathroom stuff. He is very sensitive, loves life and all living things. He doesn't eat food that was once a living creature, nor do we. He wishes he could learn to read words. He is an amazing kid, and although I know he is ready to be at school for a few hours each day, I will miss him more than words can say. She listened intently, and I got the impression that she realized that even at four, my son is distinct in his own right, as is every living being. I am glad that he attends a preschool that applauds differences and views them as strengths rather than limitations.

I never want my son to be a label or to feel confined by the labels put upon him. I don't want to be labeled myself. And so it is with conscious effort that I trust that all of us are complex people who live our lives in unique ways. Let's try to get to know and appreciate those differences. And in so doing, let us never be reduced to being just vegetarians--or just anything for that matter.

Carol LaLiberte, mother of Andrew, is a college instructor, newspaper columnist, freelance writer and consultant.

COPYRIGHT 2002 Vegetarian Baby and Child
COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning