Thursday, July 22, 2010

rumspringa-wha?

Most people I know and love know me and love me (or perhaps distain me) as a vegetarian. For the past eight-odd years, the foods I choose and choose not to sustain myself with have become an overwhelming part of my identity. So much so that I try to phrase it in less pigeon-holing terms:

“No, thanks, I don’t eat chicken.”
-“Are you some kind of vegan/animal rights activist/crazy person?
No. I just am not currently eating meat.
-Oh. Not even fish/ham/turducken?
No. I am not eating animals.
-Not even eggs?
Life begins at birth, asshole.

When people ask why I don’t usually have a good answer. Usually it’s some sort of formulation about health, both mine and the world’s, but I don’t always succeed in not coming off as dogmatic or, conversely, apathetically or arbitrarily vegetarian.

Living in the tofu-eating bubble of Eugene, Oregon for the last four years has not made me question my eating habits much. There, the typical host will ask if anyone eats meat, rather than if anyone is a vegetarian, and veggie burgers are usually the default barbecue fare.

But, as so many red-blooded Americans will tell you, human beings were meant to eat flesh. I will not try to argue with that, so now, finally, I am going to test it out myself. After years of claiming that I feel healthier when I don’t eat meat, I’m going to actually try it on for size.

And that’s where my Amish imagery comes in. The legend goes that the Amish, perhaps America’s most celebrated conservatives, are given a trial period of the sinful non-Amish life at the end of their adolescence. At the end of the Rumspringa, the youth must decide whether they wish to return to Amishdom or become a regular American. The fascinating part of the Rumspringa, and one that is capitalized upon in the media, is that Amish youth rarely chose the life of sin they enjoyed for a year, and usually return, prodigal-son-like, to their families. It certainly doesn’t help that their families will shun them if they don’t return, but theoretically, the choice is all theirs.

As a woman who appreciates her right to choose, I have resolved to make an educated reevaluation of my diet. In Rumspringa fashion, I will quit vegetarianism—yes, cold turkey—and begin to eat all kinds of meat. After the fling with meat subsides, I will coolly and rationally decide whether I wish to return to the realm of the herbivores or not.

Most likely, I will. But only time will tell. Stay tuned.

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