I was tabling for our local vegan society and a GMO Labeling Bill a few weeks ago, and I was struck by the despair expressed by a few people who came up to me. “No one cares, even when they know the facts about animals,” said one woman. An organic farmer said, “Monsanto is so big. People don’t know. Who will tell them?”
My responses? Who will tell them? “Me!!” No one cares? “On this side of the table, I return to the same locations and every year hear from people who have come to care based on the info that I gave them last year. In my personal life, I know several people who are vegan directly because I am.”
While I am sad at the effects of animal exploitation and GMOs, I am undaunted by the scope of the problem, because that is not my task. Someone said,
It is not for us to peer dimly into the future
but to face the issue clearly at hand.
What I can’t do is not my job. My job is to do what I can do.
What other people do is not my job. My job is to do what I can do.
And I can show up with a table and some vegan and GMO materials, stand there a few hours and do my best to answer questions. This is not impossible.
Vegan educator Colleen Patrick-Goudreau says, “Don’t do nothing because you can’t do everything. Do something.”
I thought about all this as I have spent many hours pulling and bagging invasive alien Garlic Mustard from woods by myself (with permission), and knowing I will have to repeat this for several years in each site before the seeds existing in the soil are all gone. I would look up and see a large area infested, but before I could lose heart, I looked down at my feet and said to myself, “That area is not my job. Next year is not my job. This right here within my reach, this is my job right now. Now it’s this plant. Now this one.” I would think about the relief the remaining, native plants will have with this individual allelopathic poisoner gone, and the relief the animals who live here will have when a co-evolved native plant of use to them can flourish. After a while I looked around and the area was cleared. This year.
My son thinks I’m nuts with a goal of eventually clearing an entire woods, but I see no contradiction in attempting the seemingly impossible. I can’t rid the continent of this disruptive pest by myself, but as long as I have sufficient health, and as long as I care, I can pull that one. And now it will never seed.
I tutor inner city elementary students, mostly immigrant refugees, a few hours a week. Will I solve our country’s education crisis? That’s not my job. One week my task was to show 40 kids, not all of whom speak English, how to use a protractor. Done.
In analyzing what is my job, two aspects to consider are, 1. are my efforts efficient and useful?, and 2. what do I do with failures?
As for the first, I try what seems sensible, listen to constructive feedback (seeking out contradictory opinions), watch carefully for results, and adjust. I will choose this path over paralytic indecision. As for the second question, first be sure you have defined failure correctly. If I am vegan, someone asks me why, and they don’t immediately go vegan, have I failed? Not if my goal was to express my veganism – automatic success. If I approach a non-profit and they talk with me about social justice for animals but ultimately decide not to make any changes, did I fail? Not if my goal was to offer a wider view of social justice for their consideration. If I find I could have done better, I can learn and either try another direct approach or “go around.”
Each plant pulled, each person spoken to, each person who sees me rejoice in my vegan life. Was I solving animal and consumer exploitation at that tabling event? No. That is not my job. Was I making a difference? You betcha.
Will you join me? Please consider volunteering for any organization which is striving to make the world a better place, one action at a time.