Out on an FSC-Certified Limb

"There's meat in that, you know," my brother said. Was I supposed to gag, to abruptly expel my aunt's homemade vegetarian casserole into one of mom's fancy Christmas napkins? Actually I was unfazed, calloused by the barrage of taunting remarks my carnivorous brother had been throwing at me from day one of last year's holiday break, when I, fresh off the plane, announced I had become a vegetarian. "Yeah, she ground it up really small so you couldn't tell." I continued to chew calmly, aware of the absurdity of his statement, yet performing mental acrobats to put the image out of my mind.

My family had never known me, the only one who complained on steak night, to be much of a meat enthusiast, but yet the familial devotion to all things barbeque conflicted with their ability to accept my decision. Before the holiday was over, my mother had buried a slice of ham between layers on my portobello sandwich, hoping she could covertly up my protein intake, and my father had given me a rabbit fur hat which, as he proudly explained, was just like the one's in the magazines. "What? You don't have to eat it," he said. My efforts to justify my reasons for becoming a vegetarian—inhumane animal treatment—were clearly not working.

Back at school, I quickly discovered that I wasn't the only one who's family was having a hard time accepting the discrepancy between whom they'd sent off to college and who had returned for the holidays. Over breakfast each morning, one vegan classmate's family again and again insisted she explain her reasons for pouring soy milk instead of two-percent over her Wheaties. Another environmentally minded friend made the unthinkable mistake of suggesting her family all wrap their presents in recyclable newspaper and avoid wasting money and trees on countless roles of non-recyclable glittery paper that inevitably clogged the trash on Christmas morning. Still another humanitarian faced uproarious laughter when he asked his family if they could make donations in each other's names rather than giving material gifts no one really needed. He actually succeeded in convincing them to make a collective donation this year to the local homeless shelter, creating a new family tradition without sacrificing the old, but the rest of us have yet to make comfortable headway imparting our environmental and humane ideals on our families' deeply entrenched holiday habits.

I realized that to get through the holidays smoothly, and still maintain the integrity of our newfound eco lifestyles, we need a strategy. To help construct such a game plan, I spoke with Mary Barknecht, a voluntary simplicity workshop leader based in New York City who helps participants gain time and freedom in their lives by cutting back on conspicuous consumption. Barknecht had an arsenal of advice to help keep the peace over Christmas.