To the Anon asking about indigenous vegetarianism and veganism, and anyone else who might be curious…
I’m an indigenous vegetarian, and I am lucky to be one (and let’s be clear: I AM ONLY MYSELF, I cannot and would not speak for any other indigenous veg or non-veg!).
My location, in Boston, means that I have access to a wide range of vegetarian (and vegan!) food. Because I have this access, this privilege of location, I have made decisions. Just like any non-Indigenous person, I live in THIS imperfect world: heart disease runs in my family, factory farms (some of which do direct damage to indigenous communities) are the primary source of meat for myself and many others, I really hate pork, the water my fish come from is polluted, I have everyday access to reasonably priced vegetarian food, etc. Those are things I thought about when I made the decision to become a vegetarian. I also had a lot of discussions with a close friend, who is a vegetarian for religious reasons and had some good insight–not just about her own beliefs, but about practical stuff, like protein and iron sources (which are crucial to me as an athlete).
I also gave a lot of consideration to how I could best live as an indigenous person, how I could best be respectful of my own ancestors’ and the ancestors’ of my friends and family, how I could best honor traditions and beliefs. The best way for ME, a displaced city-dweller, to do that is to not consume meat (I do consume eggs and dairy, out of dietary and financial concerns). There is a lot of good to be said about honoring the animals you kill and about respecting another life. Eating meat that is a product of the factory farm system is not a good way for me to do that. It does not help me to engage with, but rather furthers my disengagement from being indigenous. But it’s something I can do something about it! It’s a quiet little protest for me, a quiet little way to acknowledge whole long lines of people for generations and generations before me who DID eat meat. Every time I pass by the chicken wings or forgo the steak, it’s a reminder to myself–and to others–that I am making a conscious decision not to be part of this system. It’s an acknowledgement of what has been lost and what can be regained. For me, it’s a bit of prayer made through action.
It is important for everyone to realize, however, that I am only one person, and my situation is different in a thousand ways from those of other people, and that all of our decisions about our food–or our lack of decisions, in times of necessity–are valid and worthy. We all make our own way as best we can.
