The language of vegetarianism
Vegetarianism is not a practice I was born into. I was not raised sickened by the thought of meat, the process of making meat, or what happens to the human body when meat is consumed. For almost three years I have been vegetarian, and my beliefs and values have changed, as well as my knowledge on the practice of vegetarianism. I consider myself fluent in this once foreign practice, and it is second nature for me to let servers at restaurants know my dietary restrictions or check the label on a can of soup.
James Paul Gee, a linguist and an educator, in his article “Literacy, Discourse, and Linguistics: Introduction”, describes this learnt trait as a secondary Discourse, and the process of obtaining secondary Discourses as this: “we acquire these fluently to the extent that we are given access to these institutions and are allowed apprenticeships in them” (Gee 8).
To Gee, a Discourse is “a sort of “identity kit” which comes complete with the appropriate costume and instructions on how to act, talk, and often write, so as to take on a particular role that others will recognize” (7).
I learned “how” to be a vegetarian from my sister, who had already been a vegetarian for four years. There isn’t a set of guidelines to follow, or even a hard transition to complete, but it took time for me to adapt into this new lifestyle, and I was able to do this by watching and learning from someone else. For me, becoming a vegetarian did not simply mean I stopped eating meat. It also shaped my beliefs and values, as well as changing my customs and mannerisms.
A stereotypical vegetarian is an extreme-liberal, tree-hugging, hippie. I don’t exactly fit this unrealistic mold. Walking down the street there wouldn’t be anything that I do, say, or wear that would scream “vegetarian”, but there are definitely some traits I could acquire that would contradict my values and beliefs. My vegetarian beliefs are founded on the principle of anti-animal cruelty, specifically I don’t believe it’s right to kill animals for my personal gain or use. For example, wearing a leather jacket would go against my beliefs, and might get me labeled as a hypocrite. Likewise, wearing a leather jacket at a vegetarian restaurant, while talking about my vegetarian lifestyle, would be socially and morally wrong. As Gee points out, “It is less often remarked that a person could be able to use a language perfectly and still not make sense. It is not just how you say it but what you are and do when you say it” (5). In my case the “language” Gee refers to would be my actions. Going to a different country and not following their cultural practices, is similar to a person walking into a vegetarian restaurant wearing leather-it’s not socially acceptable, and it shows a fundamental lapse of knowledge of this type of language.
Often I’m sarcastically asked if I try to force others to become a vegetarian, and the answer is no I will not. Becoming a vegetarian was my life choice, as eating meat may be someone else’s. I’m not offended when people eat meat around me or talk about how hard it would be for them to become a vegetarian. However, if somebody chooses to “eat vegetarian” it is often not the same thing as being a vegetarian. As Gee writes,
“while you can overtly teach someone linguistics, a body of knowledge, you can’t teach them to be a linguist, that is, to use a Discourse” (7).
Gee would call somebody claiming to be a vegetarian while really just “eating vegetarian” a “mushfake.” There is a difference between the two, being a vegetarian is a lifestyle while, eating vegetarian is often part of a day-to-day diet. Gee defines “mushfaking” as “partial acquisition coupled with meta-knowledge and strategies to “make do”” (13). People who claim to eat vegetarian, have the tools to become a vegetarian, but don’t actually become a vegetarian, can be defined as “mushfakes.”
Eating out as a vegetarian, or really just meals in general, can occasionally be a small ordeal. Some foods thought to be vegetarian are not, and others are made or processed with meat, and have the potential to have been cross contaminated. For example Jello and marshmallows contain gelatin, a product made from various animal by-products. This starts to limit foods I can eat, and knowing about these certain un-vegetarian friendly foods is part of my secondary discourse. Since becoming a vegetarian I know what to look for on a menu, key words, such as broth, to stay away from, and to always explain specifically my dietary restriction. I have learned through trial and error what restaurants are vegetarian friendly, such as Chipotle, and Olive Garden, and companies such as Morning Star and Boca, along with places and companies that are not. This is something I would have never even considered three years ago.
Vegetarianism as a way of life may seem simple. There aren’t many difficult rules or standards to follow, simply don’t eat meat. But there is still a whole world, or discourse, that comes along with the choice of becoming a vegetarian. I really knew nothing about the everyday struggles vegetarians are sometimes put through. It’s not impossible by any means, but it does take research and effort to be able to make this lifestyle change.
