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It was last Sunday, the same day as Gay Pride in Los Angeles. The town was dressed in rainbow colors that shouted from the street corners and rooftops that people demanded equality in this town – for ALL. Every rainbow flag that hung from every restaurant, painted on every street, bursting from every colorful balloon that hung high in the sky to celebrate this day, promised an outcry for the end of oppression for ALL. Fairness for ALL, Freedom for ALL. Or was it?

I guess some people’s definition of “all” is subjective. Limited. Exclusionary. Because on this day, when I would typically be marching proudly with Mercy For Animals in the Pride parade proudly giving voice to the Human Rights cause of LGBT issues, instead I was miles from the parade in West Hollywood, dressed in black at the Santa Monica Pier. On this day, I was giving voice to the voiceless – the animals. The animals who aren’t included in the majority’s definition of “all.” This, despite the fact that they have the same capacity to experience pain, the same longings of freedom and the same fear of suffering. I knew that on this day I must attend the National Animal Rights Day celebration and participate in a ceremony that would mirror similar ceremonies in Spain, Germany, Australia, Rome, and Israel – a ceremony I didn’t know at the time would have such a profound effect on me – an experience that would both bring me to my knees and urge me on to fight for animals with every breath I take. This would be a historic event in the US and this vegan wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But I would have to be brave and strong, because on this morning I would go and put on a jumpsuit and sterile gloves and stand in a formation of vegan activists and be handed the body of a dead animal. The animal I would be handed, along with the other 29 activists who volunteered to hold the deceased victims, didn’t have a blessed life, a life of comfort or kindness.  

These animals had only known torture at the hands of a human. They were used, abused, imprisoned, murdered and discarded at factory farms or laboratories. Without knowing too much detail on these beings’ short but horrific lives, it seemed obvious to deduct from the state of their bodies that the birds had their gentle beaks cut off (without pain killers, which is common practice at factory farms), the rabbits had their eyes ulcerated with broken necks that surely came from trying to escape the pain of animal testing, the fish had spent their last wide eyed moments gasping for air as a hook embedded into their throats cruelly yanking them from their home, the goats had their lives cut short without feeling the sun on their back or breathing in fresh air or having a normal family relationship, and many companion animals just had the bad luck of being turned into a shelter so over crowded by the fault of people who insist on shopping instead of adopting, that they were simply the next in line to have their lives ended without being able to rest their tired bodies on a soft bed or feel the pat of human who would show them nurturing, friendship and love. Many had blood on their small bodies, broken bones and contoured bodies that hinted that they never had a comfortable moment from the horror house they were born into. Their bodies showed the scars of torture. The animals had looked much worse when they were acquired for this ceremony, but the loving hands of activists had washed them to provide them with dignity for the first time, which didn’t come during their lives but in their death.  

As one of the organizers, Vida Jafari handed me a small chicken, frozen and frail. I couldn’t contain my tears. They fell on the chicken’s body as I whispered to her that “it’s over now”…the pain, the terror, the loneliness, the horror. For the first time, her body would be handled with respect, with gentleness and with love and admiration. I thanked her and all the animals present for their offering. The bodies of these victims were used as instruments of peace, raw brutal truth for all to see. Every meat eater, dairy consumer, leather wearer, person who refused to spay or neuter their companion animal, every fisherman, every disconnected human, would on this day be forced to meet their meat. There is blood on the human hand based on the decisions we make every day – photographs and film is helpful, but the undeniable visions of actual dead beings are undeniable.  

This ceremony made the animals heroes, even in death…especially in death. Every activist I stood with had tears flowing freely – and many onlookers, including children, joined in our grief. I was fortunate to have strong animal rights activists friends to my left and right (Melissa Carbone Lauren Sessa and Stacy Gueraseva) but as I am sure everyone present would agree, the moments we had with the animals cradled in our arms were our own – intensely private and intense. One of the organizers, Aylam Orian, read a moving, poignant statement that began, “Welcome to the 3rd National Animal Rights Day. On this day, once a year, we stop everything else, and give our full attention to the most marginalized, abused and oppressed group on this planet: Animals. On this day we remember them, lament their pain, and mourn their loss. We give them a voice through ours, and reach out on their behalf to anyone who has a heart to listen. If animals could talk, their chorus of cries would drown out every other noise in the world. ” No truer words were ever spoken.  

As the sun grew warmer, and the smell of the decaying flesh began to take over, it was time to wrap our charges in clean, white sheets, swaddling them with love and light. We placed flowers over their bodies and prayed for their journey onward to be filled with peace – peace that they were denied in this world. My friend Libra Max, the day after the ceremony, said to me, “I’m feeling grateful for our community and I didn’t know most of the people there yesterday, but I love them.” The Facebook page for participants was filled with similar sentiments of people recognizing that we were all now bonded forever. I have to agree. Veganism is the future. Oppression is oppression no matter what species it is put upon.  

The time for animal liberation has come. Just look into the deadened eyes of the animals we held at this important, historic ceremony and try to convince yourself otherwise. I dare you.

For more information on NARD visit www.thenard.org and to learn more about the movement visit VeganRabbit

Simone Reyes