My Journey to Veganism

One of my earliest memories is of watching my mother preparing herrings for supper and realising that they were dead. I asked her whether they had been killed specially for us to eat, and I can still remember the shock that ran through me when she replied that they had. As it happened, she and my father were practically vegetarian; they had given up red meat some time ago, but still ate fish and chicken occasionally. I think my outburst that night hastened their transition to being complete vegetarian, which wasn’t particularly easy in those days (the early 1950s). My younger sister and I were the only vegetarians at our primary school; vegetarian lunches could not be provided, and our wholemeal salad sandwiches, carrot sticks and salad leaves, nuts and raisins, and bottles of fresh juice were objects of stunned amazement to the rest of the school. It was difficult at first, but we got used to it, and I really admire my mother for being a pioneer of healthy and compassionate eating.