Veggie Geek

Cute Stuff My Kids Said

2007-05-28T20:55:00.000-07:00

I'll forget this if I don't write it somewhere:

At a restaurant, my son was eating and the waitress filled his water glass when he wasn't looking.

Astonished, he asked me, "how did the water get there?"
"The lady filled it when you weren't looking."
"Oh, I thought it was a miracle."

And then, today my kids wanted to watch a video. I told them that it rots their brains, and that they had already watched two videos that day. So no more. My son says:
"But I'm still smart. I know that candles are made of wax."

A Little Break

2007-03-12T20:37:00.000-07:00

As you've noticed, I haven't been able to blog much in the past few months. I'm going to take a little break from blogging. I just have too much going on with work and all. Come back every month or so. Who knows, I may pick up again.

Happiness and blessings to you all!

xoxo
VeggieGeek

Library Display

2007-02-03T14:07:00.000-08:00

You may remember that a year ago I reserved the display case at my public library so I could put together a veggie display. Well, the year is up, and my time has come.

During this year, I've put up hundreds of leaflets, and just started putting out Vegan Outreach's Why Vegan. It's a hit, which kind of surprises me because I keep thinking the "V" word freaks people out. But so many people have taken leaflets (Guide to Cruetly Free Eating, Even if You Like Meat, Why Vegan and Honoring God's Creation) that at least a few might have reconsidered their choices.

Anyhow, encouraged by my success with the leafleting, I got some display materials together. I was careful with the images, and only chose the tamer ones. I know lots of little kids come in, so no I had no pictures of dead animals. I then took the batch to the head librarian to make sure that I could put them up. I didn't want someone to pull my display at the last minute.

It went pretty well. I have to replace a couple images. The librarian did say two things that were kind of telling about our world. The first was, "We don't want to show animals suffering or dying."

The subtext of course is that we don't want to see the terrible things we do to these animals. I mean, the whole purpose of intensive animal farming is to disregard suffering and ultimately cause death. Since I wanted to be as much of a squeaky-clean suburban mom-type, I agreed to make changes to the display. After all, I've reached hundreds of people through the leafletting, and I don't want them pulling my leaflets because they don't like me.

Also, kids may see the display. And sadly, we live in a world in which we need to lie to our children about what we do.

And the second thing she said was regarding my leaflets near the door (which are high up so little kids can't reach). She said some people had complained that the pictures were "icky." I was pleased that the librarians didn't take them down, since long ago they warned me that if people complained, they might take them down.

It doesn't really make me angry right now that people complain about seeing something that makes them uncomfortable. It just makes me sad that people expect that decent society conceals the results of our actions from us. And that any crack in that leads them to complain about seeing something "icky."

God shield us from the "icky."

Raising Vegan Jedi

2007-01-24T15:49:00.000-08:00

My little boy is 4 years old, and he asks more questions now about why we’re vegan. I point out other vegans to him so maybe we won't seem so weird, and he about had a fit of glee when he learned Weird Al was vegan. When we saw a car on the freeway with a Go Vegan bumpersticker, the kids both really wanted to see it and were thrilled that someone else is like us.

I was looking for a wallet at Target, and my little boy kept finding gaudy bright pink and lime green leather ones, and I kept telling him that they were leather, so I didn’t want them. He asked what leather was, and I told him it was cow skin that they treat with chemicals to keep it from rotting. Well, you could have knocked him over with a feather. His big blue eyes were all wide and horrified.

“Why do they make things out of cows?” he kind of squeaked.

I explained that it’s how it has been for a long time, and that they use the skin of the cows they eat. He looked like he was about to cry, so I told him that the cows were already dead (I lied about live skinning to a 4 year old. Sue me.). He kind of moped around a little and I couldn’t distract him with Hello Kitty watches or the light-up pen in my purse. I asked him why he was sad, and we came back to the cows.

This was one of those parenting moments you try to deal with as best you can, but really, what’s the right answer? I told him that things will change, that when he is an old old man, the world will be a little different. And that by the time our great great great grandchildren are alive, that people will be nice to animals.

That cheered him up. A few weeks later, we were at Macy’s and there was this cube-chair thing made of different colors of cow hide with the fur on. My son asked what it was, and I told him it was cow fur. He backed away from it and wouldn’t touch it. He got that awful about-to-cry look and I tried to make it educational by showing him how some cows are black, some are white, some are brown. But he would have none of it. He said, “that’s disgusting” and off we went. I really had no rebuttal, because, yeah. Sewing chemical treated cow skin into a cube is disgusting.

His teacher says he’s happy about being vegan, which is good, because it would suck if he felt it was some miserable thing that we inflicted upon him. The teacher says he tells the other kids about being nice to animals, and I asked if he’s ever rude to them about their lunches or anything. No, she said. He liked telling about eating Tofurkey at Thanksgiving and how we left soy milk and vegan cookies for Santa (with 9 carrots for the reindeer).

After the leather incident, he asked about his shoes. I said they weren’t leather. They’re synthetic. He didn’t know what “synthetic” meant, so I said “uh, it means people-made” (as opposed to man-made since we want to be gender-inclusive here). He shook his head and whispered “no!” and looked like he was really upset. “What’s wrong honey?” I asked. His eyes started to tear up, and he said, “not made of people…people skin?”

I quickly explained that they were made of chemicals and plastics, and who knows what, smushed into shapes and cut and sewed into shoes. The little guy calmed down, and I felt so bad for him. Geez, thinking your shoes are made of human skin will screw with you.

We also have history lessons. At the library, there’s a display on the local Native Americans, and part of it is a rabbit skin. I told him what it was, and then explained that they had to eat rabbits and wear their skins to survive. They didn’t have the stores we do now. He only relaxed when I told him that we didn’t have to wear rabbits.

So I don’t know. Part of me is so proud of him. And part of me worries that my beautiful freaks will end up tortured by the suffering when they find out about it. My little girl just turned 3, and I know she’ll be asking questions soon enough. She has a vegetarian teacher who makes her vegan snacks, so that’s nice. This teacher also got T’was the Night Before Thanksgiving to read to the kids. It tells the story of kids who visit a turkey farm, discover that the turkeys will be killed, and smuggle the turkeys home to enjoy a veggie Thanksgiving.

Lessons in animal liberation in preschool - how can you not love it?

Back in Action - Kind of

2007-01-15T21:06:00.000-08:00

I've been away awhile, doin' stuff.

Working, working some more, and then working again. Fortunately, I get paid for overtime. Unfortunately, we had a $1700 plumbing bill (roots growing through our pipes, causing the toilets to back up into the shower and tub - yay!) and an upcoming $5000 electric bill to repair the crazy-ass electrical system in my old house (built in 1965 which is practically ancient by Southern California standards). So work I did, and earn I did, and now my house has functional plumbing and will hopefully not burn down in the next couple of weeks from an electrical fire. I haven't seen my kids or husband a whole lot, but by golly, we have plumbing and electricity.

You know how long ago, I promised to always tell the truth on my blog? Well, that's easy-peasy when I'm ranting about the government or factory farming or whatver. Because I get to sit here and anonymously shoot at ideas I think suck. It's a little harder when I have to say I think I was wrong.

Not about the vegan thing. No. But about the Jesus thing.

Remember back more than a year ago when I started reading up on religious stuff, specifically Biblical history and the history of early Christianity? Well, I didn't hesistate to post a bunch of stuff criticizing it, but I pretty much quit doing book reviews shortly after. I read some good books, and some lame books, and some thought-provoking books. I had a list of questions that had to be answered, and some of them were. And some weren't. I read and read more, as is my way.

The point I'm getting at is this - I'm a Christian now.

Yipe! I wrote that. Ok clarification - not a right-wing asshat who wants to ban gay marriage or teach creationism is school or any of that. Everything I've said before on my blog and in person (if you know me) still holds. Still the same as I ever was. Except one, uh, small detail.

Here's what happened. I had my little list of questions. And I kept reading and trying to resolve these questions. The biggest question was this - are the gospels (forget the rest of the Bible) reliable? I mean, they've been translated every which way, altered, manipulated, what-have-you. Right? So at the end of the day, they're just some embellished legend of some rabbi who went around telling people to love everyone. Or were they?

I can't even begin to go into everything I read, thought, or stuggled with. But I can give you this - I call it The Apostle Problem, and many others have gotten hung up on this issue. 10 of the original 12 apostles died torturous horrible deaths. John died in exile and Judas did his hanging-falling-splitting open thing. But the others died by torture of one kind or another. So why? Why would they voluntarily die these awful deaths if they knew that Jesus's resurection was a metaphor or they had just dreamed up the whole messiah thing over too many cups of Passover wine? They could have recanted and saved their skin, but they didn't. And if this Jesus guy really did rise from the dead as they claimed, then doesn't that lend an air of credibility to what he said?

This was my sticking point.

I couldn't get anything past it. Anything I could find about the apostles said stuff about their awful deaths. The only other stuff I could find said they didn't exist, but historical evidnce didn't bear that out.

And after reaading more, though I resisted (oh how!) I eventually had to admit to myself that though the gospels (again, forget the rest of the Bible) may not be 100% accurate, they are easlily 95%. And that's enough to mean that if I still said that they were a load of horse crap, then I'd be lying. Lying to anyone else, and most importantly, lying to myself.

It hasn't been easy for me. Just saying the word "Christian" out loud in association with myself about made me have a coronary the first time I did it. My husband, bless his sweet soul, doesn't read my blog, but he knows about my "apostle problem." My friends who read this will be either delighted or horrified by my "coming out." I'm still kind of weirded out by the whole thing.

And to be super-clear, I want everyone to know that I am still pro-gay-marriage, a feminist, I believe in evolution, and I still hate the president. I hate organized religion and all its hypocrisy, lame hierarchies and fancy candlesticks. I cringe at the idea of the 10 Commandments on court walls or having prayer in schools. I have no interest in converting anyone. I think much of modern American Christianity has grossly misinterpreted what this Jesus guy was about, much to our world's detriment. My little pagan heart still sees divinity in nature and finds the swaying trees and the stars in the cold winter sky more moving than any sermon or statue of the crucified Christ. And the idea of going to a church still makes my skin crawl.

So anyway, I'm kind of nervous and weird-feeling about posting this. I've been mulling it over for weeks, trying to think of how to do it. Not so much for my internet readers, but for my friends, especially those who know how passionately and vehemently I've lampooned Christianity. But as I mentioned, I promised to always be honest. Even when it makes me look like a big dumb-ass.

Especially when it makes me look like a big dumb-ass.

So here's me, in my full confused spiritual nakedness, wondering what the hell happened. I don't want to talk any more about it, since there's more, much more, but I'm not really ready to share.

October Sucked

2006-11-04T09:22:00.000-08:00

October was a crazy-bad month, and I wanted to wait until it was over before I blogged it. I’ll write it out chronologically, and warning, there’s a sad ending.

It started out with my 4 year old son dislocating his elbow while playing on the slide with another kid from school. They used to play a game in which they would “save” each other from the lava/monster/whatever by pulling each other up the slide. So one kid pulled my son, and he spent awhile in the office cradling his little arm. My husband took him to the doctor where the doctor easily bent his elbow (palm to shoulder if you care to know) and fixed it.

Then two days later in Home Depot, my husband was holding my 2 year old daughter’s hand. She is our runner, and the place is dangerous for little people with carts of lumber, forklifts etc. So she tried to run, my husband held on to her arm. She was then crying and cradling her little arm. Could it be another dislocated elbow? My husband tried the thing the doctor showed him, and yes, it was fine after that.

Then, last week, my daughter got in the car and was not moving her arm. She said the pain was in her wrist, and screamed when my husband gently moved her hand. We weren’t sure if it was the elbow thing, so we took her to urgent care. And yes, it was the elbow thing. The doctor fixed it. Our daughter said it happened when Miss A at school “helped” her. We mentioned this to Miss A and she remembered helping my daughter back onto her nap mat by pulling her by her hands. Harmless enough. Then my daughter was very sensitive and crying a lot. Well, when you’re 2 with a dislocated elbow, I guess you’re entitled.

We also had fun with head injuries. My daughter ran into a corner so hard that a giant purple-black swelling appeared within 10 seconds. It was huge. And pulsing. And growing. So we called the doctor, called our friends who are in nursing school (while waiting for the doctor’s advice nurse), and eventually figured out she was ok. We had to wake her up every 2 hours and make her count to make sure she wasn’t brain damaged.

Then at school, poor Miss A was hanging a picture which accidentally fell on my daughter’s head and cut her. Miss A was much worse off than my daughter, and she felt terrible. Fortunately, everything was fine.

Then on Friday the 13^th, we got rearended. We bought a used minivan 2 months ago for safety. I kept having this feeling that we should get a safer car – that our 6 safe years in our Echo (a subcompact) were our fair allotment, and we should watch out. So we got this minivan. Then we got rearended so hard that it is costing almost the entire value of the car to repair it ($7000). My husband and I suffered minor whiplash, but the kids were completely fine. The people behind us and in front of us were fine too. And the other guy’s insurance is paying everything, so all it means is that we’re back in the Echo for about 6 weeks while they fix the minivan. I am soooo glad we got that minivan, because we got hit HARD. And in the Echo, my kids are about 2 feet from the bumper of the car behind us.

But none of these things were that bad. I mean, we all came out ok.

Now for the sad part.

Our sweet kitty, Robin (aka, The Puck) was hit by a car and killed last week. Our neighbors, bless their hearts, found him, put him in a box where our kids wouldn’t see, then quietly told us so we could plan how to tell the kids.

I was devastated. I was crying too much to put the kids to bed, so my husband did it. I felt terrible about having him outdoors (he was an indoor cat for years and then got out and would get crazy when locked in). I did some soul-searching about keeping him in and making him unhappy but keeping him alive versus letting him out where he was so happy but obviously got killed. I cried that night, I cried in my sleep, I mostly held it together the next day at work.

Anyway, the first night, I wanted to see his little body, so I opened the box. It wasn’t gory. His body was curled on its side, just like he was asleep, only his head was completely under him. Even with no medical experience, I could see his neck was broken, and there was only a tiny amount of blood from his nose, indicating that his heart didn’t pump blood for long after the injury. He died quickly, which eased my heart a little since I feared that he lay in the street in pain before he died.

That night, I was thinking about Robin, and how much I would miss him. How he licked my children’s heads when they were newborns, how he’d curl up with them to sleep, how he patiently let them pet him, even when they were a little rough when they were younger. I fell asleep and had a dream about a cat I had when I was 4. His name was Charmin (yes, after the toilet paper because he was all white and “squeezably soft”). He bumped his head on me and wordlessly told me that he was in a happy place with sunbeams (the kind cats like to lay in) and that it was where they all go. (Not sure what that means – all cats? All souls?). Maybe it was wishful thinking from my troubled brain, or maybe good old Charmin was letting me know that Robin was ok. Either way, it was comforting.

The next night, after we went to urgent care for the elbow, we told the kids about Robin. We explained what “dead” means, and that his spirit is not in his body any more. My husband and I debated what to say beforehand. I believe in a soul, and that it goes to a happier place after death. I am fine calling this place heaven. My husband is not. So eventually I told him that if he was picky about wording, he could say whatever he wanted since none of it offended me. In the end, we both talked and the kids were sad, but not distraught. I don’t think they really grasp it fully.

My daughter kept saying, “We have to fix Robin. Fix his head, fix his legs…” And we told her he couldn’t be fixed.

My son, after asking about Robin not coming back, said that Robin was part of the universe and was somewhere, “with no cars.” I hope so.

I told them that his body was in a box outside, and we’d bury him that weekend. They wanted to see the body, and since it wasn’t gory, we thought about it and said ok. We described how he would look (cold, still, kind of stiff) and that his spirit was gone and his body was just empty now. My son thought he had no heart or brain, so we had to explain the physical structures vs. spirit thing.

My little daughter cried out, “There’s Robin!” when we showed them, so we told her that it was just his body. They wanted to see his face, and we were kind of wary about that. But in the end, we decided that it was ok and let them see his still little face. Then they helped pick out an old baby blanket of theirs to use as a shroud, and my husband and I wrapped him.

On Saturday, the kids drew pictures for Robin and we buried him. My daughter was a little upset when she saw us drop Robin down into the hole (it was about 4-5 feet deep because we didn’t want to accidentally dig him up when we garden). Then the kids wanted to play, and we let them. I attached the pictures the kids drew to chopsticks with clothepins and stuck them in the ground.

And our house is a little empty now without our Robin. Our other cat, Peaseblossom has been extra lovey, and I think she misses him. They would sleep together and roll around on the ground play fighting. So I’m giving her extra attention since she probably wonders where her friend is.

RIP Kittenhead

A Little Break

2006-10-02T20:09:00.000-07:00

Sorry I left you with that cranky post below for almost a month. Things are hectic, with little room for doing anything that isn't crucial. So I'll probably be away for a few weeks.

The Vegan Gold Star

2006-09-05T21:16:00.000-07:00

I am still coming to terms with how people talk to me as if I'm the vegan confessional and tell me about why they eat meat when they find out I don't.

And so I present, the Genuine Vegan Gold Star. Print it out, put it in your wallet or on your office wall. It's from a genuine vegan!

The Vegan Gold Star

I ________________ am hereby given full approval and endorsement by Veggie Geek the Duchess of Freakbiscuit, who represents all vegans, for the following activity:

_____ A) For not eating cute animals. I am able to feel empathy for certain animals because they hit the right spot in my brain to trigger maternal/paternal feelings. Ugly animals like chickens are hereby ok to torture because their eyes are beady.

_____ B) For finding within myself the fortitude to laugh when faced with seeing terrible suffering. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism, but who cares. Writhing pigs are kind of funny, right?

_____ C) For being grossed out by eating "weird" animals from other cultures. Vegans love to hear about how I think I ate rabbits or dogs or snakes because those are icky animals and it creates common ground for us.

_____ D) For loving my cats and dogs so much that I buy them stuff for Christmas. Since I love my pets, any harm I may inflict on other animals doesn't count.

_____ E) For talking about meat for over an hour whenever I am reminded that someone at the table is vegan. Vegans love to hear about all the places I've eaten pigs, cows and chickens. Their reticence about participating in the frivolity is just because they're hungry.

_____ F) For allowing my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner's dietary preferences to dicate my own. Hey, we're a team, so if he/she eats meat, I sort of have to. Just because we vote differently, drive different cars, like different books and otherwise act as independant human beings doesn't mean I can eat what I want. My hands are tied.

_____ G) For basing my dietary choices upon not making any waves or being different. I'll tear someone a new one if they take my parking spot, but asking a waiter to hold the cheese is making too much trouble.

_____ H) For wanting to help people so much that I can't be vegetarian. People are more important than animals. C'mon, you can't really love humans if you don't eat animals.

_____ I) For wearing the gorgeous skins of mink, rabbits, foxes or other fur-bearing animals. They're so soft and beautiful. And after all, it's fashion! It's girlish high spirits to wear such "bling." No harm done, right?

The above named individual is hereby granted vegan amesty for any and all acts of harm to animals. No other vegan or vegetarian may approach or comment upon the activities of this person. No other thought or action is required from this person to hereby be granted the status of Good Person from her royal majesty, Duchess Freakbiscuit of the Vegans.

I got the job!

2006-08-25T19:55:00.000-07:00

Good news! I got that job that I applied for. I was worried about the salary, but I shouldn't have. Along with getting paid vacation and sick time, I get the coveted blue badge instead of my current green one with the giant C for "contractor."

So I'm stoked. I wish I could describe more of what I'll be doing, but I don't really want to discuss where I work on the internet. Suffice it to say that the company makes things that help people who really need it. And that this job will put me closer to this "helping people" thing than my current job (at which I help people by being a tiny cog in a big machine). And my new manager actually said I could be the grammar police.

Be still my beating heart!

I gave my notice today, turned in the forms where I sign away all legal rights and peed in the drug test cup.

Yeah we're moving on up. To the east side...

Interviews

2006-08-14T20:27:00.000-07:00

If you work with me - shhhh!

I spent five, count them, five hours interviewing today for a position. And those five hours of interviews took almost nine hours.

It's at the same company I work at now, only it's a regular position instead of a contractor position. This would be good since I'd like to not get kicked out of meetings when they discuss important stuff (and later be held accountable for knowing what is going on in our department). I'd also like to get Christmas off, or maybe a few days off when my kids are sick. As it is now, I get no sick time or vacation time. All the "freedom" of being a contractor goes out the window when you have kids and a mortgage. Screw freedom, give me wage slavery.

I remember the days when five people would come to one room and ask you questions, and then they'd all listen to your answers. Now, five people show up at five different one hour slots (interspersed over a 9 hour time frame) and ask you very similar questions. You get good at answering these same questions, so by the last interview, you sound all well spoken. Or sumthin.

I get paid hourly, so I kept running back to my desk to get in some work in between interviews. I was kind of peeved, because first of all, they wouldn't give me any hint about salary. I have no idea if I just lost nearly a day's worth of pay interviewing for a job that isn't even in my salary range. And after that, the original 6 hour interview window kept expanding until I was scheduled on and off for almost nine hours. Nine flippin hours of running back and forth for interviews.

And on top of that, they insist on getting drug testing info, credit reporting info and all this background info on me, all without ever even discussing the job, salary, or if they'd offer or I'd accept. I spend almost an hour filling out forms.

But hey, I'd like to get the job, so we'll see if it pans out. If not, I'll probably be more hard-ass about finding out salary before I interview again.

My Appologies

2006-08-06T17:50:00.000-07:00

I haven't been posting much lately, and the pattern is likely to continue. My laptop died, and we can't get another. Big Brother watches now at work, so I can't post during my lunch hour. And things have just generally gotten busy. The 40 or so minutes I have between chores and bedtime is usually filled with some other vital activity like showering.

You may have noticed that the book I'm currently reading hasn't changed in months. I've been reading, just nothing I think anyone wants me to write a review on. More on that later perhaps.

I am taking a belly dancing class now. I took one back almost 10 years ago, and it was tons of fun. So now I get to go on Thursday nights and shake my thang with a bunch of other sassy women from my town. Much fun. City-run recreation programs rock.

My Son, the Vegan Jedi

2006-07-30T00:22:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned, my kids have never eaten at McDonalds. They have no idea what a happy meal is, and at last week's company picnic, they gobbled up avacado rolls while viewing the unnaturaly white peanut butter and jelly Uncrustables with suspicion. They're odd, but what did we expect?

My four year old son is still convinced that Old McDonald runs McDonalds and kills his animals, no matter how many times I try to explain that Old McDonald might run a farm sanctuary.

My 2 year old daughter is still too little to understand what we're up to, although she did tell her teachers that she doesn't drink milk when they accidentally put the cup in front of her.

My kids like to help me stock my leaflets at the library (we call it our "activist activity"). I let them hold the Guide to Cruelty Free Eating, but not the ones with the horrifying pictures. My son and I were walking out of the library restroom, and there was a rolly polly bug (known in some regions as a sow bug or a pill bug) inside the building. My son wanted to pick it up and take it outside, so he very carefully got it and carried it outside to live in the bushes.

Later that same day, we were shopping and we saw a wounded cricket on the ground. Up until now, my son has been scared of crickets because of the sound they make. We told him they were singing, they were nice, about Jimmy Cricket and the cricket in Mulan, but to no avail. He told me we had to save the cricket, and I hapened to have an empty plastic box with me, so I scooped it up.

He then got to release his little friend into the bushes, and he was happy to tell his daddy that he saved two lives that day.

Other kids were walking by the wounded cricket, but my little guy stopped, and insisted we help, and that made me proud. Also, my kids pick up the numerous rolly pollies from the walkway in front of their school so they don't get squashed.

My son recently informed me that he was a jedi "A nice jedi though. I don't hurt living things with my light saver [sic]. I'm a vegan jedi."

A jedi padawan from Episode I. Oddly, this little padawan has the same name as my son.

Mother's Little Helper

2006-07-25T21:55:00.000-07:00

What's small, battery operated, buzzes, and though I love my husband, has become my new best friend?

Robots. House cleaning robots.

I know everyone has heard about the Roomba, the vacuuming robot. And up until now, I dismissed them as overpriced toys for lazy yuppies. But then I met the Scooba.

I have two small children, and they make a mess on our floors. I have spent far too many hours of my life on my hands and knees, chipping dried bananas and petrified cheerios off the floor with a dull knife. I wash or vacuum all my floors once a week (well, almost) but they're still always nasty by the second day. We don't wear shoes in the house, so it's even more nasty when sticky banana goo is stuck on my foot.

Enter the Scooba.

I had ignored it, but then it was on sale, and I had a coupon, and there was a gift card, and so on, until it seemed cheap enough for me not to have a brain hemmorhage paying for it. The Scooba changed my life.

It does four things - vacuums, squirts cleaning solution (you can use vinegar in place of their pricey solution, so it's non-toxic and cheap), scrubs, then sucks up the water. No matter how often I run it, the water comes up dark grey. Nasty. But my floors feel clean and nice, and I am a much happier person because of it. I loved it so much that we got the Roomba too. Every day it gets about a baseball sized hunk of grey ick from my carpets. I have vacuumed every week since we moved in, so that's not old gunk. Fresh shed skin cells - nummy.

I have excuses for buying them. I am preparing for work, at work, commuting or doing meal prep from 6:00 am until 8 or 9 pm daily. Few exceptions (if a kid is sick). And on weekends, the machines give me enough time to do other things, like spend time at the park without worrying that I'll be up until midnight doing laundry or cooking for the week or whatever since I spent too much time on the floors.

They're excuses. Yes. I could have kept using the old mop and vacuum. But dang, if it isn't just the coolest thing to come home to a clean house, when you left with sand and popcorn all over the floor. The Roomba even goes back to his home base and recharges itself.

How cool is it that we live in a time when household robots are for sale in regular stores? And how sad that we have this, but people still starve. I have thought of this, yes. But I bought them anyway, and maybe I'm selfish, but I don't regret it.

Vegan Firefighters

2006-07-19T20:06:00.000-07:00

I found this video on vegan firefighters on Vegan Porn.

Now if anyone says vegans are sickly and wimpy, you have the ammunition my friends.

The Veggie Geek Psychological Profile

2006-07-13T20:08:00.000-07:00

Being vegan is like taking part in a bizarre sociological experiment. The way people respond to you is almost a whole psychological profile in itself.

The Veggie Geek Psychological Profile
Which is your favorite Beatle, and why?
Which is your favorite Muppet, and why?
How do you respond when Veggie Geek eats with you?

The answers to these three questions will reveal more about a person than you'd ever want to know.

Now, first of all, I wasn't always vegan. I deserve every comment I get. Behold some of the dumb things my husband and I said and did that deserve karmic retribution:

1) When I met my first vegan, I told her how we ate fish and chicken. Very little red meat! (What, did I want a merit badge? What is it about not eating beef that's more "vegetarian?")

2) My husband saw a shirt that we thought was a hoot - Vegan: definition - naked, starving, lying in a ditch, eating the bark that fell off a tree. (Har har, those vegans, they just go to far.)

3) Told anyone who would listen about my unintentional veganism in college (as in, no money for food, lived off pasta and lettuce) and how it made me lethargic and spacey. I would happily describe protein deficiency as a reason I couldn't go veg.

4) Screaming tomatoes - I read something about tomatoes "screaming" when they're cut. This proved to me that plants felt things just like animals, thus vegetarians were not thinking straight. And of course, I would spread this info far and wide, without ever thinking about how many "screaming" plants have to be eaten to make a little meat. Or how many "screaming" animals died terribly because I wanted to save a tomato.

So anyhow, I've mentioned some of my interactions with omnis before. At this point, I've seen and heard a lot. I've been openly attacked, been told I should let my kid "choose" (would you feed your preschooler a dog that had been skinned alive? Why not let him choose for himself?) I've had a group of people stand next to me (knowing I was veg and having eaten with me and discussed the topic with me) and rip on my beliefs, calling people like me ignorant and deluded. I've had people do the "gobble gobble" thing at Thanksgiving. I've had them ask me to help dig through a bucket of chicken to find them a breast (I kind of went off, just a little). I've had people call my food "shit," while not tasting it of course. I've had people be kind, respectful, totally nice. I've heard intelligent questions. I've had people go so out of their way to accomodate me that I got tears in my eyes since they were so thoughtful.

I'm not the Vegan Crone yet, but I'm dry behind the ears now.

And I am learning that most people are very cool about it. And also that the asinine stuff is never really about me. For a long time, I felt attacked. Why did people always want to tell me how they think my ideas are dumb? Why not leave me the fuck alone? Why assume that I'm stupid or haven't thought past "animals are cute and fuzzy?" I'm just trying to eat here. Go the fuck away.

But I'm starting to think that it's really about people defending themselves against me. It's odd. They only say that stuff because they're afraid that I'm judging them. They say that stuff because they want to look kind and knowledgeable. They don't want to be wrong or perceived as cruel. They don't want me to think badly of them.

I had a meal with someone, and he is a very cool person who I liked a lot. During the course of a meal, this person told me how he was vegetarian for X number of years. Also, suggested that we let our kids eat a hamburger if they get invited to a birthday party at McDonalds (ha and double ha!). Later, he told me about how he had to eat meat for some reason. Further on, he described sitting with a Buddhist monk on a plane who was vegetarian. This monk said he'd eat meat if someone prepared it specially for him. So this person thought about it and went back to eating meat (all the time, not just when it was offered). Later, more discussion on how he didn't want his kid to be "picky" and inconvenience people, so they gave him meat.

Now, I made sure to be super-polite. I didn't even respond to any of this (aside from explaining how I could pack a veggie burger or vegan pizza or whatever for the birthday party). I just did the nod and smile. Mmm hmmm. Oh, really. Is that right? Emily Post would have raised her fist in triumph at my politeness.

I wondered why our food choices always become this big discussion, even if I don't even say anything. It kind of bugged me about our beliefs being, well, not "attacked" but certainly questioned. Why do people have to harp on me? Why keep bringing it up over and over? Then it came to me. None of this was ever about me. It's about the other person.

It's about someone else justifying his choices. Especially since he used to be vegetarian. It was like - look, I was where you are now. I have to eat meat for health. Monks would eat meat, so it's ok. Raising your kids to fit in is important.

Side note - raising my kids to "fit in" is right above raising my kids to poke their eyes out with pencils on my parenting to-do list. I'd rather teach them to think and act for themselves rather than torture helpless things in order to not be "picky." Besides, anyone who won't be their friend because of what they eat can just miss out.

Back on topic - I'm going to start looking at all these little episodes in a new light. Instead of me being the target of attack, I'm going to view myself as being in sort of a position of power. Instead of feeling upset about it, I'm going to remember that they're the ones on the defensive, even though all I'm doing is happily eating my lunch. After all, I can just quietly do my thing, and if people feel defensive, that's really their problem. I never realized what a powerful position that was - to just sit, do my thing and not take responsibility for the reactions of others. I will be an unshakable mountain of veganness.

Response from Tyson

2006-07-03T22:30:00.000-07:00

In the comments for my post on Tyson giving out prayer booklets, I mentioned that I emailed Tyson.

Here's a copy of my email:

As a former consumer of Tyson products, I feel the need to comment on the Giving Thanks prayer booklets that you offer for your customers. I used to purchase Tyson products for my family all the time, until I learned about how you raise and slaughter your birds.

I have written my own prayer. If God is a compassionate being, I think He would be horrified by what Tyson does to His helpless creatures.

video link in case you have no idea what I'm talking about:
http://www.petatv.com/tvpopup/Prefs.asp?video=virgil

cut and pasted this prayer

Thank you,
[my name]

So I got a response back. I was kind of surprised, but then I remembered that I heard back from KFC when I wrote a letter to them too. Same basic form letter thing with them assuring me that though killing birds may be "distasteful" (KFC's word) that they are humane. The email below makes it sound like the chickens are going to a day spa with the calming low lights.

I'll withold the email address from the guy who sent it, just because... well, I don't know why I'd protect someone at Tyson. Maybe I should put up the email address if people want to respond. Then again, I'm anti-spam. I guess if you want to email someone there, go to Tyson's website and have at it.

Here's the email from the Customer Relations person:

Tyson Foods produces and processes its chickens in the same
manner that 98 percent of all chickens in the United States are produced
and processed.

Independent contract farmers who usually have other
agricultural interests as well grow the chickens on relatively small
farms. The space they have during "growout" is controlled, but it is
about twice what is provided by poultry producers in many other
countries. They typical broiler house is about 16,000 square feet. The
birds are allowed to move throughout this entire space. The houses are
kept warm in the winter and well ventilated in the summer. It has been
consistently proven that chickens, which are uncomfortable, do not gain
weight as quickly and are more susceptible to disease. So every effort
is made to keep the chickens comfortable. The chickens are fed a
nutritious, high quality diet that is primarily corn-based and, contrary
to widespread belief, contains no steroids or growth hormones. Tyson
also does not routinely feed healthy broiler chickens antibiotics as
growth stimulants.

Another widespread misperception concerns the practice of
"debeaking" chicks. Tyson discontinued this practice on broilers many
years ago. Nor does Tyson "declaw" chicks, as has been falsely
alleged by some groups.

In the processing plant, the chickens are slaughtered in the
most humane manner possible, which includes calming them in a low-light
room and stunning them early in the process with a low-voltage electric
shock that anesthetizes them before processing begins.

In times past, when chickens were killed on the farm, their
necks were wrung or their heads cut off with an ax. Modern methods
traumatize the animal much less.

We realize that the idea of killing chickens in any manner
treads on delicate ground with many people. But we would ask those
people to understand that for the millions around the world who depend
on an affordable protein source, our operations are essential. And
we're doing our best to ensure that those operations are carried out as
humanely as is possible.

And my response back:

Thank you for your response.

Just briefly - just because 98% of other chicken processers do something doesn't make it ok. Scalding animals alive is not ok, even if 100% of other places do it. Other countries have terrible animal welfare standards, so saying you're doing better than they are is not saying much.

As for "cheap protein," plant sources of protein are cheaper, heathier for humans, kinder to animals and better for the environment. So the arguement that somehow it's ok to hurt helpless animals for human benefit does not hold up.

As for your "humane" slaughter, I think this video speaks for itself. There is no reason to believe that this was an isolated incident.

http://www.torturedbytyson.com/

It's disgusting. It's inhumane. I have now taken it upon myself to tell as many people as possible about these practices. Already, a good number of family and friends have decided to boycott all Tyson products.

I know we come from different perspectives, what with you working for Tyson. So thanks for reading my email. I wasn't an activist of any kind before I saw things like the video above. I'm an average 30-something white-collar suburban mom who ate your products for years. I fed them to my kids. I believed that companies like Tyson would never do things like the video above shows.

If people like me, my family and my friends (who are also not "activist types") are sitting up and taking notice, Tyson should pay attention. If appealing to Tyson's sense of compassion for living things has no effect, perhaps a complete boycott will.

[my name]

Mother of the World

2006-06-29T20:51:00.000-07:00

You know what I like to do? Look at people while they drive to work in the morning. My husband usually drives in the morning, and I love to look at people while they're unguarded. They're more loveable that way. I practice loving people, because when I see things like this, it's hard. Oh God, it's hard. (Found it on Veg Blog. Warning! Graphic images).

I had an epiphany when I was a new mom four years ago. I was in a diner-type restaurant with my husband and infant son. The bar had some real salt-of-the-earth type people there, which is nice in the San Francisco Bay area because looking at hip urbanites all the time is dull. One guy was overweight, greasy looking and his pants were a little low. He was hunched over the bar, eating something, looking through a newspaper. My immediate reaction was "ick" because he was not physically attractive to me. Then I thought of my son, and if he looked like that, my love for him would not change. I would love him with all my heart, ugly, beautiful, old or young. And this man had a mother, and she loved him that way. And in that moment, I kind of got it. I found myself feeling love toward him, as if he was my son.

It was such an odd feeling that I decided to try it more often. I pretended that other people were my children. Homeless people, grouchy people at the market, snooty looking people in expensive clothes - I found I could love them if I was their mother.

So now I do it with commuters. I look at them in their cars while they're staring straight ahead, listening to radios or drinking coffee from Starbucks cups. I find that I still judge them by what they drive (Hummer= self-absorbed, beat up truck = hard working) or by their bumper stickers ("W" stickers make me think they're ignorant or uncaring, liberal-type stickers make me thing "ah, kindred spirit"). But if they're my sons and daughters, that stuff doesn't matter and I can wish blessings on them without judging first to see if I think they're worthy. I can sort of think of them as innocent, as having good hearts.

And that's a big step for me, because I like individual humans, but as a group, I think they're violent, selfish barbarians who have such marvelous potential which they squander for greed and pleasure.

Vegan Preschool

2006-06-27T22:47:00.000-07:00

My children's school is taking the older kids (potty trained) to Chuck E Cheese tomorrow. I'm packing vegan pizza for my son to eat, so he can enjoy the fun.

Check out this menu from a preschool in Colorado.

http://www.bellavitaschool.com/nutrition.html

Sigh. I wish there was a school like that here. How marvelous.

Prayer for the Dead

2006-06-21T12:30:00.000-07:00

Tyson is now offering prayer booklets for free on their website. They're prayers of thanks at mealtimes.

http://www.tyson.com/GivingThanks/

Because I'm perfecting my cranky vegan persona, I wrote my own:

Dear God,
Thank you for the carcass of this bird of whose body we are about to partake. As we gather together, we are grateful to the underpaid workers who endure unhealthy working conditions, low pay, and the highest injury rate of any profession so that we can get the animal for ten cents less per pound.

Thank you for the billions of birds who will live crammed together by the thousands covered in their own feces, their eyes infected from the fumes of their own waste, who will be debeaked without anesthetic, thrown into transport cages, sustain broken bones, and be transported without food or water. Please bless the ones who die of exposure or injury.

Thank you for the slaughterhouses where the panicking birds will be attached to the conveyor lines by their legs. Please bless these birds as they flap and peep (they are too young to cluck, because they grow so fast). Thank you for the birds who get their throats slit and bleed out quickly. Please give peace to the thousands who are scalded alive.

Bless the children that mysteriously develop tumors and diseases in areas near poultry farms. Bless the rivers that are so full of poison from poultry farm runoff that the fish and plants die. Bless my family as we eat the product of torture, greed and environmental destruction. Thank you for allowing us not to care because it's hidden. Please let us keep pretending that everything is ok.

My real prayer:
Please let all people in the world be filled with such compassion that they cannot bear to cause suffering. Please bless the souls of all tortured beings. May they find the peace in the afterlife that we have denied them here on Earth.

Kid's Movies are Animal Rights Movies

2006-06-12T21:36:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned, my children are 4 and 2. They're old enough now to have Movie Night, and we curl up with popcorn and watch a movie on Fridays or Saturdays.

My dad sent us a copy of The Fox and the Hound, which I haven't seen in ages. And I'm coming to the conclusion that many kids movies have animal rights/vegetarian themes. It's weird really. These are movies made by adults, for children, and they undermine the very systems that the adults foist upon the kids as "normal." It's almost like the adults are trying to plant ideas that other adults are immune to, but children are open to.

The Fox and the Hound:
In the first 5 minutes, the mama fox is carrying her baby and running from the hunter and his dogs. Then, she leaves the baby, snuzzles him goodbye, leads the hunter away from the baby and gets shot.

The skins of the animals that the hunter killed are shown as horrific and scary.

The hunter puts out leg hold traps to catch the fox, and later gets caught in one of his own traps, prompting me to educate my children on the concept of "poetic justice."

The whole movie is sympathetic to the fox, and the hunter is shown as a bit of a lunatic, shooting all over the place. However, at the end, the hunter spares the fox because the hound steps in front of him to defend him. So here, an individual animal is spared because of his "specialness," but other foxes who are not "special" will still be killed.

My poor son, sensitive soul that he is, was really agitated and wanted to turn it off during some of the more intense parts, like when the hunter hides behind a tree to shoot the terrified fox. My little daughter is starting to display empathy and was actually sad when the nice old lady (who rescued and raised the fox) had to take him out to the forest and let him go.

Chicken Run:
Ah, that famous line, "I don't want to be a pie!" Here we see chickens who don't want to be slaughtered plan their escape. My favorite part is the teeth.

Bambi:
We haven't watched this one with the kids, partially because of Bambi's mom getting shot. I remember getting really upset when I was a kid. In time, we'll watch it. But again, we have the idea of the hunter being this monster who kills for no good reason.

Charlotte's Web:

The new movie is coming out in December, and yes, I'll take my kids. How many vegans or vegetarians out there remember reading the story or seeing the movie and having something within you say that killing pigs was somehow not quite right? Then we buried it for awhile after our families told us that it was The Way Things Are.

Wilbur only escapes death because he moves out of the "pig" role to "pet" role. He'll be spared, but other pigs will not. So again we see this idea of a "special" animal being saved, because he's different from the rest of his kind.

Shark Tale:
There's a shark who is a vegetarian. He's ridiculed by his family members, who try to make him be a "real" shark by making him eat fish. Adults can easily read it as an analogy for a young gay man in a family of "macho" men. But just as important is the idea of this compassionate shark who endures ridicule and ostracism to free worms, rescue fish, and aid the escape of a bunch of shrimp, because one is raising his orphaned nephew and needs to live to support his family.

The movie shows vegetarian shark as an effeminate and sentimental character, going with that old media favorite of vegetarianism being feminine and thus naturally inferior to the masculinity of killing animals. But the shark is a sympathetic character all the same.

Madagascar:
A lion, hippo, giraffe and zebra get stranded in The Wild. The lion doesn't know that steaks are made of animals, since he was raised in a zoo. As the days pass, the lion gets hungry and goes "crazy" and tries to eat his best friend, the zebra. He quarantines himself away, trying to keep himself from killing his friend. In the end, he ends up living on sushi. So again - animals are friends. Don't eat your friends. (Of course, we explained to the kids that lions must eat meat, so he can't just be an herbivore like his friends)

Finding Nemo:
The sharks have this AA group to get them to not eat fish. They hold up their fins and recite, "fish are friends, not food." The humor of course is that sharks must eat fish, and one goes nuts when he gets a whiff of fish blood. But as always, there's this sympathy for the hunted fish - they're scared, they run, they escape, we cheer.

Babe:
The cat tells Babe, "You see, animals that don't seem to have a purpose, really do have a purpose. The boss has to eat." And thus, Babe learns about The Way Things Are.

Kids feel happy when Babe becomes a sheep pig and is saved from being made into dinner. Just like Wilbur in Charlotte's Web, he accomplishes this by moving from "pig" role to "pet" role. He is spared because he is not like other pigs. This part sort of reinforces the idea that normal pigs are ok to kill because they're not "special."

At Christmas, the duck makes a terrible connection. "Christmas? Christmas means dinner. Dinner means death. Death means carnage. Christmas means carnage!" Sadly his duck friend Roseanna was killed for Christmas dinner. The part where the humans carve up Roseanna makes them look very creepy indeed.

The puppies tell Babe that pigs can't go in the house, not live ones anyway. And the mother dog assures them that people eating dogs is "ridiculous." But at this point in the movie, some people might ask themselves why.

When I first saw this movie, I liked the cute pig, but easily compartmentalized the idea of cute pig versus my bacon. Different things. I think most adults do this automatically, after years of practice. Kids don't have the practice, until we make them spend years deadening themselves to their own compassion for other creatures.

It's kind of a weird experiment we're doing on our kids. At least for me. I watch them respond to these ideas with confusion (why does the farmer want to eat the nice pig?), excitement (Nemo's daddy is getting away from the shark!) and horror (little foxes, run away from the hunter! run away from there!). I know "normal" kids respond the same way, but what happens when the adults don't tell them that it's ok to eat the pigs or shoot the foxes? What if we tell them not to hurt them even if they're not "special" or cute?

* * * * *

Even though some of these movies have the idea of the "special" animal being spared because he can move into the "pet" role in people's lives, these stories can also serve as a bridge between loving pets and loving "food" animals. If one animal is special or unique, maybe others are too, if only we look at them with different eyes.

I think the movies about a "special" animal can be read two ways: You can see it as justification to continue harming animals because the ones you hurt aren't special like the ones shown in these sentimental children's movies or books. Or you can make the connection between one special animal and many special animals.

It's interesting how adults almost always fall into the first category, but children fall into the second. And yet, adult filmmakers make these movies and adults take their children. It's as if there's something there in the adults, some desire to reconnect to the simple love they once had for all creatures. Maybe those adults know, deep down inside, that they still have the little seed in them, and hope to see it blossom in their children?

Now I'm going to quote a part from the absolutely brilliant theme song, from the Vegan Freak podcast which I am sadly very behind on listening to. Go, listen to the song and sing along. Go, listen to the podcast too, since it's always great. Also, visit the Vegan Freak Forums. And buy books.

When we were kids
the bugs and the birds fascinated us
They were just like us
Then we were taught to slam the door
It's not cool to feel too much
But some of us break free
According to you I'm a vegan freak
If that's what you think, I'm a vegan freak
That's your opinion I'm a vegan freak
Happy as Larry I'm a vegan freak.

Product Review: Earth Shoes

2006-06-07T07:33:00.000-07:00

Earth Shoes Sandals

I have the shoe pictured above (2 of them!), and I've worn them almost every day for 10 months. They are the best shoes ever. I thought I loved my Birkenstocks, but they just don't compare.

These shoes are nice enough for work, but feel like weekend shoes. My spine is a wee bit curved, and if I wear anything with a heel, even a thick chunky heel, my back tells me about it. Back problems run in my family, so I figured I'd take care of my back, and it would take care of me.

Earth shoes has this "negative heel technology" thing. It means the heel is slightly lower than the toe. Sounds weird, and it took about 15 minutes for the shoe to feel normal, but oooooh, it is heaven on your body. Without even thinking about it, your body just aligns correctly. Your center of gravity shifts, your shoulders go back a little and you stand up straighter. Your grandmother would be proud of the posture these shoes give you.

They're expensive. $89 for the pair I have. But I have learned a few things in my time on earth. Scrimp on other things, but bras and shoes should be comfortable. Get poor quality ones, and you'll suffer. I'll spare you my bra suffering stories. For now...

Anyhow, if you're looking for great walking shoes that are cute, check out the vegan sections of the Earth Shoes website.

Oh, and I put them in the washing machine on "ultra gentle" with a teeny bit of detergent, and they come out squeaky clean. (I do not promise all of their shoes will be ok with this treatment)

My only complaints are these - other Earth shoes are leather, so it's not an all-vegan company. And the shoes sometimes make a farty kind of noise when I walk. This is awesome in a quiet office environment. They probably think I eat too many beans. I think shoes that don't have the faux leather sole will not ake this sound.

Gay marriage means more crime

2006-06-04T09:55:00.000-07:00

This is the craziest thing I've read all week. The claim is that gay marriage will lead to more crime.

Danger Will Robinson! Danger!

It goes like this:

Prison populations have exploded in the last 30 years due to "the lack of moral training during the morally formative years."

The breakdown of marriage is why these younger inmates did not get the moral training they needed.

Same sex marriage increases the "gap" between marriage and parenthood. In the past, the two were inseparable. Now, you can have kids without marriage and marriage without kids. (And to think, you don't get stoned for it or anything. What is the world coming to?)

Gay marriage cannot produce biological children, so it increases this "gap" between parenthood and marriage.

In Norway, legalizing same sex marriage correllated with higher out of wedlock birth rates. (And births of babies named Gunther increased too. Correllation does not equal causation.)

And I'm just going to quote a piece, because, honestly, I can't top this:

Ironically, once gays have the right to marry, few take advantage of it. Evidently, they want the right to marry only because they do not want heterosexuals to have something they can’t have. And they are willing to destroy the institution for everybody else.

The result is going to be more broken families—and more crime.

Yes, the gay people want to ruin marriage for everyone else because they're a bunch of spoilsports. And I had no idea they were responsible for the increase in crime created by the offspring of heterosexuals.

Sigh. This is just sad. I think I need to go look at the pretty sand art video again to feel that all is right with the world again.

Sand Art

2006-06-01T20:55:00.000-07:00

My dad sent me the coolest video. It's moving sand art.

The website is sandfantasy.com.

I'd recommend "Just Imagine" to start with. The woman who does this is incredible.

Vegans Rejoice!

2006-05-30T20:50:00.000-07:00

Boca's chick'n patties and nuggets are vegan again!

Here's a link to their website's FAQ on vegan products.

Things to do with chick'n patties (they come out best when oven baked):

Vegan Chicken Parmesana: Put cooked patty on top of pasta and cover with marinara sauce. Sprinkle with Parmesano Sprinkles from Uncheese Cookbook.
Vegan Crispy Chicken Burger: Stick in a bun with tomato, lettuce, sprouts and Veganaise.
Slice and put on an asian style salad with mandarin oranges, crispy noodles and a ginger dressing.
Slap patty on a plate, nuke and cut up for kids to eat with ketchup.

The downside is that they are far from being all natural, and the company probably has some nasty record of human rights violations or environmental destruction.

But if you're in need of the fast meal, these can bail you out in a pinch.

Don't You Dare Step Out of Your Prescribed Gender Role

2006-05-28T09:03:00.000-07:00

This is crap. There's a male student in Indiana who wears women's clothing - not just for prom as a prank, but all year long.

Excerpt:
Logan said he had spent years defining and exploring his sexuality. This year, he took a major step by dressing as a female every day, wearing makeup, a hair weave, nails and girls' fitted jeans to school.

And they wouldn't let him into the prom because he wore a dress.

What the fuck? If you don't conform to society's idea of what you're supposed to wear, you can't participate in public activities? What a crock of shit.

The only silver lining is that the student's mom seems very cool.

Excerpt:
His mother, Donnetta Logan, said she was not surprised by what she called the ignorance of school administrators.

"I tell Kevin that in society there will be those who accept him and those who won't."

Good on you Donetta Logan. If it was my son, I may have had a few less polite words. Something like "You ignorant fuckheads. You're just jealous that my son looks cuter in a fuschia empire waist gown than your daughter does. Get your heads out of your asses and join us in the new millennium."