In the fall of 1994, a new high school senior wanted to speak with me. Her parents were divorced, and she had lived with her mom. For reasons unknown to me, that changed her senior year. She moved in with her dad and stepmom. Her grandfather was a businessman in town and well connected throughout the county. I make this point not to improve the girl’s importance within the standing of the community but to demonstrate her connectivity. She wasn’t just passing through. She was staying and planning to graduate from Britton-Macon, and she thought the superintendent of the school could help her best.
She made an appointment to see me. That in itself was rare. Most kids just showed up. Her appointment was before classes began and when I asked how I could help her she said, “I’m a vegan so I can’t do the required dissections in my biology class. I need to take the class but won’t do the dissections. And I don’t want to be in class while they’re being performed.”
I was forty-seven years old and that’s the first time I heard the word vegan, or if I had heard it before, it never registered. I listened to her concerns, told her I would look into the problem, and promised to get back with her the following day. The truth of the matter was I needed to find out what the word meant. I needed to educate myself before I could help her.
I did my fair share of dissections when I took high school biology. The four I remember were an earthworm, a starfish, a frog and a cat. Jim Poleman and I were dissection partners. He became a doctor. I don’t believe that happened because he worked with me in biology but who knows? Maybe?
My clearest memory of that experience was the frogs were alive when we started the project. We had to open the frog to see its heart and we had to be careful so we could watch it beat. Jim wasn’t the most careful cutter, so I took the lead. We were successful.
The agreement between my biology instructor, the high school senior and me was too. The internet was relatively new then, but we located several online options, mostly books and pre-recorded videos. She would attend class on non-dissection days and was required to take the same exams that others took.
What I didn’t know at the time was November 1, 1994, was the first World Vegan Day. That was about the same time I spoke with that high school senior. When I contemplate the situation now, I wonder if the celebration influenced her decision to become a vegan.
The day was established to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of The Vegan Society. If you look it up, you’ll see it was a celebration of people who don’t eat meat. Or eggs. Or cheese. Or mayonnaise. Or honey. Or whey. Or gelatin. Or anything that comes from an animal. Nor do they use any clothing, accessory or object made from an animal. No leather, no wool, no pearls, no ivory-keyed pianos. Zip. Nadda. Zero.
As I progress towards living a healthier lifestyle, becoming a vegan is not on my radar. I am having to learn some new words though. They’re all associated with a plant-based diet, so I need to become more informed.
I took a class the other day about the importance of healthy eating. It focused on plant-based diets. The two presenters gave a demonstration which outlined the importance of such a path. Ironically, I signed up for the class before my heart issues hit the fan. It may have been divine intervention or simply a push from Ruth. In any case, I went.
During their presentation they prepared The Ultimate Nutrient Dense Rainbow Salad. They had little bowls of precut vegetables, and they added them to a larger bowl as they progressed through their explanation. Later, when I reviewed the recipe, I noted that there were twelve main ingredients. The salad dressing they prepared had another eight. There were no duplicates.
One of the big reasons they shared this salad was it will last a week in your refrigerator. You can eat it all week. I made it Monday night. It took me over two hours to chop up the vegetables. That’s a lot of work. I worked up quite a sweat, so it turned out a bit salty. Based upon my first portion, it could last several weeks or until it spoils. Whatever comes first.
Other than the fact that I hate green peppers, I’ve never been fussy with food. As a kid I ate what my mom made. In college I relied on my roommate, Jim. After marriage, Ruth set the pace. Now I have to set my own, but the very first thing I have to do is become familiar with words that I’ve heard but are unclear. Things like kale, edamame, cauliflower “florets”, quinoa, ginger root, turmeric and tahini. I knew most of the items, but I had to ask the grocer where to find them. I’ll probably be asking for answers similar to that throughout the rest of my life.
My hope is if I eat healthier and take better care of myself, the rest of my life is way down the road.