The Anti-Speciesist Rape Survivor

From Victim to Activist

CW: rape, PTSD, animal abuse

“Without the deliberate and systemic violation of female bodies, the animal agriculture industry would crumble.”

— “Is Your Food a Product of Rape?”

“Why did you go vegan?” is a question that is heard at many a plant-based potluck or activist community building event. It is ultimately the story of why we are there, why we have made such a controversial lifestyle change. For two years, I have only been telling half my story when faced with the familiar inquiry. Today, for the first time, I am publicly sharing what really happened.

Picture from the book What if the Shoe Were on the Other Hoof? By Keith Allison

I stumbled across a post about rape racks in the dairy industry. I tell people that what I learned went against my beliefs as a feminist. My first reaction, though, was to be disgusted and outraged in a personal way. Because I knew what it was like to be held down against my will, to lose autonomy over my body, to be invaded, to want nothing more than to be free. I knew what it was like to be raped.

I could not imagine contributing to an industry that revolves around objectification and exploitation. Watching the artificial insemination process sickened me. I was overwhelmed with memories of my own assault, from when I was only 14. This realization was one of the most triggering and emotional moments of my life, but it was also the most important and influential. That day, I began to see nonhuman animals as deserving of rights, just like we are.

Now, two and a half years later, I have found my voice in the animal rights movement, but have recently been pondering the roots of why I am here. I am acquainting myself with the label “anti-speciesist rape survivor,” and contemplating what that truly means.

To be an anti-speciesist rape survivor is to not quite fit into the two categories that I most closely identify with- animal advocates and trauma survivors. It is to live in the middle of a Venn diagram, and be invisible to those on either side of me.

Being a Rape Survivor in the Animal Rights Movement

The Oxford Dictionary defines “speciesism” as “the assumption of human superiority leading to the exploitation of animals.” To live an anti-speciesist lifestyle is to reject human supremacy and acknowledge the equality between humans and nonhuman animals. It means that as allies, we must recognize nonhuman animals’ individuality, personhood, and experiences.

This includes their experiences as rape victims. It is highly debated within the community whether or not the word “rape” should be used to refer to what animals endure. I strongly believe that to not do so is betrayal. Vegan feminists, even survivors, have claimed that it is “dehumanizing” to have the rape of animals compared to that of humans. This is incredibly speciesist, and in my opinion a result of a toxic aspect of social justice circles- putting the opinions of the oppressed on a pedestal so high that constructive criticism is deemed unworthy of reaching their ears. This is especially important to address because said oppressed group (human rape survivors) is actively oppressing another group (farmed animals) in this context.

One of the most powerful tactics for creating social change is telling the stories of marginalized individuals. Lots of us know the commonly spewed facts- 1 in 5 women will be raped in their lifetime, perpetrators of sexual violence are less likely to go to jail or prison than other criminals, some states allow rapists to sue for custody and visitation, etc. But what really opened many eyes to rape culture in a way that nothing else could was the Stanford rape case. We don’t know her name, but we know her story, and her bravery has awakened us more than a bunch of numbers ever can.

There is no reason why the animal rights movement should not proceed in this direction as well. In PETA’s video (above), the victims’ experiences were described in heart-wrenching detail, instead of being discounted as a statistic. The only difference is that humans were using their voices to draw attention to an atrocity occurring against other species. This is not a derailment from the issue of human rape, but rather a call for those against the patriarchy to expand their fight for justice to include nonhuman females as well. As a survivor, I can think of nothing more empowering than using my strengths to lessen the suffering of others.

Being a Vegan in the Feminist Movement

My sign at the Cleveland Women’s March

Speciesism, unfortunately, is rampant in every other social justice movement. The Women’s March on Washington has already been accused of lacking intersectionality- failing to be inclusive of trans women and women of color, specifically. Amplifying the voices of those who are victims of more than one systemic oppression can only make our message stronger.

While attending the Women’s March on Cleveland, I spotted a Trump sign on which someone had painted “PIG” in large letters. I tried to convince those around me that this promoted the stigma that pigs are inferior beings, but I was told to just take the joke and move on. Trump’s treatment of women is deplorable, and makes many of us feel like we are being victimized all over again. But Trump himself has used the word “pig” (and “dog”) to insult women, so I urge all anti-sexists to think critically about the ideas we are promoting when assessing 45’s actions. Pigs are in the struggle with us. Gestation crates, genital mutilation, and butchering should be seen as abominations against everything the feminist movement stands for, and yet women’s rights activists dine on the bodies of pigs without a second thought.

Author Carol J. Adams writes in her book The Sexual Politics of Meat: A Feminist-Vegetarian Critical Theory: “…[J]ust as the slaughterhouse treats animals and its workers as inert, unthinking, unfeeling objects, so too in rape are women treated as inert objects, with no attention paid to their feelings or needs. Consequently they feel like pieces of meat… To feel like a piece of meat is to be treated like an inert object when one is (or was) in fact a living, feeling being.” I have seen firsthand survivors make these types of comparisons. Women describe being covered in blood after their attack, saying they looked like a slaughtered animal. They call out their batterers for abusing animals as well as themselves. When telling their stories, survivors say that they were “treated like an animal.” A recent campaign (pictured here) features models bedecked in headscarves made out of raw meat, in an attempt to convey the message that women are not just “flesh and bones.”

If women’s acknowledgement of this resemblance is so widespread, why isn’t it more mainstream in feminist ideologies? Shouldn’t this make everyone striving for women’s liberation think twice about their treatment of animals? Why do survivors accept similarities between animals’ hardships and their own, but adorn themselves with the products of vivisection and wrap their bodies in someone else’s fur? When it comes to the goal of ending all injustice, nonhuman beings should be seen as both fellow victims of the patriarchy, and victims of human despotism as a whole. Nonhuman animals are so marginalized that even social justice advocates ignore their plight. True intersectionality demands that we leave behind this antiquated way of thinking, and start fighting for animals with the same ferocity with which we fight for humans.

Being an Activist with PTSD

Rachel Ziegler (right) and I (center) being dragged away after jumping the stage at Nathan’s hot dog eating contest

On July 4th of last year, I was put into the most powerless position I have been in since the day I was raped. I was one of three activists who were arrested for disrupting Nathan’s hot dog eating contest, and we spent twelve hours in jail. Being grabbed, handcuffed, and thrown into a cell; relying on someone else to allow me to use the restroom and drink water; having my body violated and searched; and being verbally abused by the officers all culminated in a severely triggering ordeal, bringing back feelings of helplessness, loneliness, and loss of sovereignty over my body. It has affected me ever since, making my heart race and causing a knot of panic in my stomach whenever I see police.

This past September, on the fourth anniversary of my assault, I reacted in a way that I never had before. I had panic attack after panic attack, stayed in bed for days, and was crying more often than not. I decided to take a year off school to heal. I believe that there were several factors involved, but I don’t think there is any doubt that what happened in the Brooklyn jails contributed greatly to my distress.

That being said, I absolutely reject the idea that I would be in a better place right now if it wasn’t for my activism. After several years of sharing this secret with people who vastly underestimated the consequences and treated me like I should “just get over it,” coming out to activists is refreshing and comforting. Because most of my animal rights friends have an understanding of other cruelties as well, they are empathetic and oftentimes know exactly what to say. If I ever feel ashamed that I can’t go through with an action because of triggers, I know that my emotions are valid to them, and that they don’t view me as a less dedicated person because of it.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last person to come to activism because of experiencing trauma of some kind. I do not claim to hold a monopoly on knowing how to recover from such deeply rooted pain, but I can confidently say that in my case, activism saved me. Balanced with self care, animal advocacy has allowed me to channel the agony of my past into passion for creating a better future for others. I have found my purpose, when for so long I felt I had been rendered useless.

I dream of a world where all hurting people- human and nonhuman- are viewed with compassion and a desire to alleviate their suffering. But this cannot happen when humans still deny that nonhuman animals are indeed people. A cow is not property which doesn’t have feelings, and that can be touched and disregarded in any way those in power please. She is a person, who experiences emotional turmoil when her rights are taken from her, just like I did after I was abused. I am asking you to include her in the revolution.

Until ALL are free.