3 Reasons Why You Should Become a Pro-Intersectional Activist

Art by Emma Fay

By Lilia Trenkova, Co-Founder of Collectively Free

Intersectionality theory was created by Kimberlé Crenshaw and other black feminists in the 1960s and 70s as a form of resistance to the predominantly white (read: racist) feminist movement and the predominantly male (read: sexist) civil rights movement at the time. It introduced the idea that 1. People who experience multiple – layered – forms of oppression (e.g. racism and sexism) face more struggle than people who experience less forms (say who only experience sexism) because 2. These oppressions feed into and support one another with the help of both institutions and social prejudices. So the term “pro-intersectional” means applying and developing this analysis further in order to affirm and empower people who exist in non-dominant (unprivileged) layers of society.

1. Because it’s important to know the truth

Pause and think about a moment when you realized that your whole life you had been lied to about something you believed in deeply. Remember the feeling of confusion, indignation, sadness or anger.

For example, regardless of which country you grew up in, you were likely taught in school that Columbus “discovered” America. You learned it, you repeated it in your quizzes and essays, and unless you were told otherwise by say your parents, you accepted it. Until one day you realized how deeply wrong it was. Columbus didn’t “discover” the continent; he launched its colonization, paving the way for Western Europeans to commit centuries of atrocities against the humans and nonhumans who already inhabited the lands and waters. How messed up is it that you were fed a totally different story?

Or for example, perhaps you realized one day that there were things in your life you had taken for granted but that someone else in your life had never had access to those things. Maybe you were walking on the street one day and suddenly became aware of all the potholes, tall curbs and steps leading into buildings that make it difficult, if not impossible, to navigate for a person using a wheelchair. Or you woke up one morning and figured out that each bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwich requires the bodily harm of three different species of animals… and that they would have much preferred to continue living unharmed.

If you’ve experienced such a bubble-bursting, life-changing realization, you know the mix of feelings that evokes. You can feel scared and confused (“How could I have been lied to about all of this?”) while at the same time feeling exhilarated and inspired (“F*** this, I’m going to do something about it!”) Which brings us to reason #2:

2. Because it’s important to do something about it

If you learn the truth about something and you don’t let anyone know about it, did you really learn it? And more importantly, did anything change?

Whenever you first learn the truth about a social injustice, it’s natural to feel compelled to do something about it, especially if it has to do with your values.  Obviously you’re more likely to do something if it affects you directly; it feels like it’s your duty! But what if the realization you’ve just had has to do with the lives of others and not so directly yours? Well, it’s still important that you do something about it – precisely because you’ll be in a position where you could potentially have leverage.

What you do can come in many forms. It can mean speaking with people: on a small scale with your family and friends or addressing larger groups of people that you have access to (say if you’re a teacher or in a leadership position). It can mean launching an organization or joining one that already exists. It can mean confronting the problem physically via direct action, or non-physically through writing, art, political campaigns or any other means that combines raising awareness with creating a solution.

Regardless of what type of action you choose, it’s important to continue to learn (and unlearn, as the case may be). Just because a realization made you spark into action doesn’t mean you fully grasp the issue yet or how it relates to other issues and the bigger picture. As you learn, you begin to realize for instance that you can no longer speak about economic justice without also talking about race, gender, age, ability or nationality. You begin to realize that what’s happening in, say, Flint, MI, is not isolated from what’s happening at Standing Rock or at Smithfield Foods. And eventually you find out where exactly you fit into this whole big mess…and that’s when it all becomes a full circle and it all makes sense.

 

This video shows animal liberationists who struggle against many different “-isms” in their daily lives. Yet their fight to exist (queers, single mothers, Latinx, indigenous, disabled, Muslims, trans, working class, students, anarchists, black, immigrants, Asians….) is not separate from, nor does it compete with, their fight as activists for nonhumans; it’s not a matter of either/or but rather it’s both/and. For them, viewing social issues in isolation doesn’t work because they can’t stop being queer or disabled, etc. when they speak out for nonhuman animals or for immigration rights, etc.

Could the notion that we must always choose one thing to focus on also be a story you’ve been fed unquestionably?


Learning about and questioning social issues and how they affect one another is an indispensable part of being an activist. The good news? Your learning gears and your action gears are perfectly capable in working together. In fact, each makes the other stronger! Even better is when you do this learning with others around you, which brings us to point #3:

3. Because it’s important to do that something with others

Why is it important to work with others? Because doing activism and learning about social issues can be an emotional (and physical!) rollercoaster, so it helps to share the experience with others who understand what you’re going through. It also helps to know that you won’t be alone and that others in your group will have your back if something happens. Stronger communities mean you gain stronger control over your own life.

Why is it important to work with and listen to others who have different backgrounds from yours? Because social issues too don’t all have the same background – so why should we use cookie-cutter solutions? In other words, not everyone in your community will experience the same struggle in the same way. For example, a queer immigrant from Latin America will experience homophobia in a different way than a queer U.S.-born citizen. A cow at a dairy farm will experience speciesism in a different way than a fox trapped for their fur. So when a community values the distinct perspective within itself is when we can start coming up with solutions that will benefit everyone affected.

Community is both the means and the ends in the fight for social justice – it both leads to action and results from action. Community isn’t just a group of people sharing the same space; it requires action from all members for all members. In a community we all teach and motivate one another, as well as hold one another accountable when we mess up so that we can become not only better activists but better people.

 


Lilia Trenkova was born and raised in Bulgaria during the final years of communism before embarking on the long journey (recently completed) that is U.S. immigration. She holds an MFA in Scenic Design, a BA in Theater and Studio Art, and is a certified permaculture designer. In addition to activism, Lili works as an environmental designer, scenic artist and fabricator. She’s a co-founder of Collectively Free where she gets to combine her organizing and creative skills to fight for justice.

whyveganism.com

Essay Reading – Why Trump Veganism Must Go

trump-veganism

Donald Trump’s campaign built on hate and fear-mongering is a tactic all to familiar to vegan mobilization. This essay identifies the dangers to social justice and social movement stability that Trump veganism presents.

Reading by Dr. Corey Lee Wrenn; music by Lucas Hayes.

This is an installment of Vegan Feminist Network’s podcast series, making popular essays more accessible through audio recording. You can access the original essay by clicking here.

Archives of this podcast can be found here.

Podcast #5 – Trumpocalypse

In this podcast, Corey examines the personal and community grief associated with the 2016 American election. This episode also identifies a number of important parallels between Trumpism and veganism. Aggravating human inequalities in a hasty and desperate push for change is an ethical concern.

Episode recorded on November 13, 2016.

Scroll down to listen.

Show Notes

Brookings Institute | “What a Trump presidency means for U.S. and global climate policy

MSNBC | “Michael Moore joins wide-ranging election talk

Public Radio International | “Gloria Steinem says Donald Trump won’t be her president

Saturday Night Live | “Election Night

Vegan Feminist Network | “Why Trump Veganism Must Go

Vegan Feminist Network | “LUSH Cosmetics: Kind(ish) to Animals, Not to Women

Why Trump Veganism Must Go

trump-veganism

Donald Trump’s horrific rise to power was based on fear-mongering and the blatant exploitation of divisions. Millions of “forgotten” working class whites rallied behind Trump, driven by his appeals to dangerous immigrants, nasty women, and dangerous “urban” people of color. Fear, anger, and otherization both mobilized and motivated.

Bigot-powered politics typify other change-making spaces beyond the American presidential race. Veganism, for instance, frequently banks on the same inflammatory approach. Women’s bodies are abused, assaulted, and raped to shame other women into compliance. People of color are framed as “brutes,” “savages,” or “monsters” to encourage whites to side with veganism.

Disaffected vegans, mostly white and male, embrace these tactics, eager to transmit “their” vegan movement, one that prioritizes white-centric, patriarchal values and banks on the ostracization of nonwhites and women. Incidentally, such an atmosphere puts pressure on marginalized people to join ranks with the majority as a measure of protection. As many white women voted for Trump, many white women also throw their support behind these hateful vegan campaigns, happy to cash in their racial privilege and bargain with patriarchy in hopes of higher status by association.

When these tactics are criticized, their vitriolic supporters go ALL CAPS. They become aggressive and threatening, desperate to protect their privileged approach as common sense while framing their critics as anti-vegan. Anyone that finds such an approach problematic is accused of not caring about animals, or told, “If you don’t like it, go somewhere else.” “Make veganism great again,” they seem to suggest.

“PC” culture isn’t welcome here. Neither are women, people of color, disabled persons, trans persons, and others. In fact, they are framed the bigots for daring to challenge the discriminatory status quo.

trump-fans

The result of anti-intersectional vegan campaigning is strikingly similar to that of Trump’s. The ranks swell with sexist, racist, blissfully ignorant, and hateful deplorables. More than tapping into and inviting in this bigotry, this framework actually aggravates it, creates it, and normalizes it. Being racist, sexist, or otherwise prejudiced and discriminatory is becoming an acceptable value so long as it is positioned as necessary for the protection of the oppressed.

Violence begets violence. History has shown that appealing to privilege will encourage behavior change that is unstably based on violent ideology. This violent ideology supports discriminatory actions. It further marginalizes the underprivileged. Vegans will do well to avoid taking cues from Trump’s play book. It is unsustainable and wholly incongruent with the principles of social justice.

I am further wary of post-Trump appeals to “come together” or strive for “unity.” It is akin to victim-blaming. Rape survivors hear it. Communities impacted by police violence hear it, too. Those who have been wronged by institutional oppression are not those who should be concerned with unity. They should be focused on how to strategize to survive systemic violence. Vegans betray justice by insisting all movement parties “just get along.” There is no ethical justification for supporting violence in our society or a social justice movement. Both Trump’s campaign built on hate and the vegan movement’s campaign built on hate will have deadly consequences to minorities impacted by that ideology.  “Unity” rhetoric is a form of social control and protects, rather than challenges, inequality.

 


Corey Lee WrennDr. Wrenn is the founder of Vegan Feminist Network. She is a Lecturer of Sociology and Director of Gender Studies with a New Jersey liberal arts college, council member with the Animals & Society Section of the American Sociological Association, and an advisory board member with the International Network for Social Studies on Vegetarianism and Veganism with the University of Vienna. She was awarded Exemplary Diversity Scholar 2016 by the University of Michigan’s National Center for Institutional Diversity. She is the author of A Rational Approach to Animal Rights: Extensions in Abolitionist Theory.

whyveganism.com

How Vegans can be Better Pro-Intersectional Activists

vegan-unity

Content Warning: Ableism, trans antagonism, racism

By Aris Austin

A couple of weeks ago, I published an article on why vegans need to be better pro-intersectional activists. If you haven’t already read that article, I encourage you to read it before moving on to this one. If you’re short on time, here’s a quick summary: Being a pro-intersectional activist (1) is the right thing to do and (2) will make our movement stronger.

So, how can we go about actually being pro-intersectional activists? I am by no means an expert on the issue, but I do try my best. I hope to outline a few first steps we can all take below.

1. Listen

Listen, listen, listen. This is number one on my list for a reason. Leadership starts with listening. Unless you are a single mother struggling to feed her family, you won’t know what her life is like unless you listen to her. And if you try to advocate for her before listening, you’re talking over her instead of using your voice to amplify hers. That isn’t good advocacy.

Listening doesn’t necessarily mean needing to seek out that single mother, or sitting on your hands until you happen to hear her speaking. You can educate yourself. It’s easier now than ever to listen to the stories, experiences, and needs of people. A simple Google search will yield countless articles, blog posts, and videos from single mothers talking about their experiences. So do some research. Listen to the voices of oppressed individuals. Learn, and then use your own voice to amplify theirs.

2. Never stop listening

If you haven’t seen Chimamanda Adichie’s Ted Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story,” I encourage you to watch it. As she explains, “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.”

We cannot allow ourselves to think that because we know a single story, we know every story. Listening to that mother’s story is an important step, but it does not make us an expert on the lives of everyone struggling to feed their children. How can we claim to know the story of a disabled mother of two in Chicago simply because we’ve already listened to the story of an able-bodied mother of three in São Paulo? Their experiences may be completely different. If we ever make the mistake of thinking that we’re done learning, we limit our ability to do good things and increase our potential to cause damage.

3. Own your mistakes

This one can be hard to do, but it’s also incredibly important. And hey, we all mess up sometimes. Every single one of us has made some kind of mistake in the past, and as we learn, it’s reasonable to expect ourselves to make more. However, the way we handle ourselves after making a mistake can mean the difference between a good and a bad conversation. Because of this, it’s important to handle ourselves well.

In my article on why vegans need to be better pro-intersectional activists, I used an example where you unintentionally hurt a friend by using the term “moral schizophrenia” to describe the treatment of animals. Let’s explore that example again, first looking at what might happen owning your impact.

You: “The way people cuddle their dogs at night and have no problem slaughtering pigs…They don’t even feel bad about eating bacon, but recoil at the thought of eating dogs. It’s total moral schizophrenia!”

Your friend: “Whoa, hold on. I get what you’re trying to say, but it really bothers me that you call it “schizophrenia.” That makes it sound like people with schizophrenia are violent, or don’t know how to make moral decisions. I have schizophrenia, remember? I would never hurt anyone.”

You: “I see what you mean, but that’s not my intention. I’m just saying that people treat animals in unpredictable and sometimes violent ways. I’m not trying to offend anyone.”

Your friend: “But when you use it like that, it’s ableist. You’re adding to the stigma that makes people see me as violent, unsafe to be around, and unfit to live in society. Will you please stop using that term?”

You: “You don’t get it. That’s not what I mean at all. I mean, obviously I feel safe around you, so you know that isn’t what I mean. I get that the term might offend you, but it’s a pretty common term in the animal rights movement. Sometimes we have to use shocking language to explain shocking things. Anyway, if most people knew that pigs weren’t all that different from dogs…”

You have completely lost your friend at this point. By defending yourself instead of listening, you’re causing hurt and perpetuating stereotypes that potentially limit her options in life. You’ve probably caused some damage to your relationship, and you’re certainly not getting anywhere with your vegan message. Worse, you may have given her the impression that veganism is an inherently ableist movement, and you’ve left yourself open to making the same mistake in the future.

Now let’s look at an example where you own your impact and address your mistake:

You: “The way people cuddle their dogs at night and have no problem slaughtering pigs…They don’t even feel sorry about eating bacon, but recoil at the thought of eating dogs. It’s total moral schizophrenia!”

Your friend: “Whoa, hold on. I get what you’re trying to say, but it really bothers me that you call it “schizophrenia.” That makes it sound like people with schizophrenia are violent, or don’t know how to make moral decisions. I have schizophrenia, remember? I would never hurt anyone.”

You: “Wow…I guess I never thought of it that way. I don’t know what to say, except that I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m going to make an effort to stop using that term, and to be more aware of casual ableism in my language. Thank you for telling me.”

Sure, it sounds a little corny, and apologizing and owning your impact probably didn’t fix everything. Your friend may still be hurt. But by simply apologizing and not arguing, you’ve minimized the damage you’ve done and taken a big step toward doing better in the future. Rather than alienating your friend, you’ve shown her respect, and you’ve taken a step toward deconstructing oppressive systems.

It can be hard to take being called out well. Our first reaction is to become defensive, because we feel like we’re being attacked. It might be helpful to keep in mind that your friend probably only spoke up because she trusts you. She knows that you’re a good, thoughtful person, so she expects you to be willing to correct your mistake. In a way, her calling you out may be a sign that she thinks highly of you and is willing to push you to do better.

4. Speak up

This step combines all of the previous steps and helps you create positive change. You can’t (and shouldn’t) rely on your friend to educate every vegan on why saying “moral schizophrenia” is wrong. Let’s say that after your conversation, you went home and did some extra reading on why saying “moral schizophrenia” is problematic (educating yourself is great!). Now, let’s say that a few weeks later, you hear another vegan drop the term. This is your chance to speak up.

It’s probably more constructive to engage this other vegan in a conversation rather than outright attacking them. Since you also used to use the term, you can start by finding common ground with them, and then explaining why you’ve changed your mind. Let’s look at an example:

You: “Hey, I just wanted to point out something you might not be aware of. I noticed your use of the term “moral schizophrenia,” which is something I used to say too. But a friend recently pointed out that it implies those with schizophrenia are violent and dangerous. That’s already a major stereotype that can limit their employment, housing opportunities, and even safety. When we use it to describe violent systems, it only worsens the societal stigmas they have to live with every day. I know you probably didn’t mean any harm, but do you think we could talk about using different language that isn’t so harmful?”

They may change their behavior based on that simple conversation. Even if they reject your invitation, at least you did the right thing. You’re acting in support of your friend, and you’re working to remove harmful behavior from the vegan community. In doing so, you’re doing the right thing, and you’re making the vegan movement stronger by making it more inclusive and accessible.

It is important to note here that we should use our voices to amplify the voices of oppressed individuals rather than “talking over” them. What I mean by this is that we should be mindful of the space we’re taking up, especially if we’re speaking from a place of privilege. Like many things, this is dependent on the situation. If a man in a group of men hears a misogynistic remark from his friend, that is absolutely the time and place for him to speak up. However, if that same man finds himself in a room where several women are already discussing their own experiences of harassment from men, this is probably a good time for him to listen and learn rather than launching into a speech of his own. Women in our society are already so often “spoken for” by men, so it’s best for him not to take over the conversation, especially because he’s probably the least experienced person in the room on that particular subject.

5. Act in solidarity with others

I’m not saying we all need to drop animal rights as our first priority. But there’s little that bothers me more than people who purposely ignore every other form of oppression simply because of animals. To avoid speaking out against racism or xenophobia simply because you think the group of people being attacked is especially bad for the animals is (and yeah, I’ve seen stuff like that coming from some fairly prominent vegans). To condone slurs about Chinese people “because they eat dogs” ignores the fact that (1) people in many other countries eat pigs, who aren’t so different from dogs, (2) there are many wonderful activists in China working to end the dog meat trade and (3) racism is never justified, no matter what stereotypes you decide to believe.

We can do better by avoiding this mistake, but we can also do better by acting in solidarity with others. There are so many other movements that deserve our support, and we can give it to them by making very few or even no sacrifices to our work for the animals. Consider North Carolina-based group Vegans for Peace. Members of their group have joined other LGBT rights activists for several protests against North Carolina’s discriminatory House Bill 2. I imagine that many of these activists are animal rights activists first and foremost, but they understand the injustice happening in their state, and they’re taking the time and effort to protest it.

Acts of solidarity like this not only help combat injustice, but also make the vegan movement more inclusive. A group of vegans protesting HB2 tells the government that trans discrimination is wrong. But it also tells trans people that they’re safe around that group of vegans. And if we help people feel safe and welcomed around us (rather than making them feel unsafe or excluded, like some vegans seem intent on doing,) it greatly increases our movement’s potential for growth and positive change.

This is part two of four in a series on veganism and social justice.


meAris Austin is an author, student, and activist who writes fiction and nonfiction that aims to dismantle oppression. Their fiction has previously been awarded with honors at Colorado State University, where they attend school and serve as president for the university’s animal rights group. Aris can be found on Facebook page and more of their writing is available on their website.

We Need More Pro-Intersectional Activism in the Animal Rights Movement

Aris Austin

Content Warning: Rape mention, ableism, racism, misogyny

People tend not to respond well when individuals outside of a group criticize said group. So I’m here, a dedicated member of the animal rights community, to say this: we need to do better on inclusivity. Way better.

I’m not saying this to argue, and I’m not saying this to accuse anyone. I’m saying it because it’s absolutely necessary if we want to think of ourselves as good, compassionate people. I’m saying this because it’s the right thing to do. It can make us—and our movement—better.

Many of the animal rights activists I know do an excellent job of supporting other social justice movements and recognizing oppression. But some of us are so awful at it that it makes me cringe. I don’t believe that the vegan movement as a whole is intentionally racist, or sexist or ableist. But when so many of us say or do hurtful things and then don’t own it when called out, I can see why those outside of our movement say that. When we uphold activists with racist messages, or organizations that use (intentional selection of the word use) women’s bodies for media attention, I understand why so many people see our movement as uninterested in helping humans.

I remember a time when I was part of an online group dedicated to mentoring new vegans. One of the other mentors—a person of color—took issue with the fact that so many other mentors were alright with spreading the message of a very well-known activist who is particularly racist and sexist. I agreed, and thought it would be pretty straightforward for the rest of the mentors to listen. After all, this person took the time to explain why they, as a person of color, often felt marginalized within their own movement because of people’s willingness to support this activist. I was shocked by the response.

People immediately leaped to defend this activist, claiming that he “had done so much for the animals” and therefore was a good person. Others said that this was “about the animals, so those kinds of issues aren’t important here.” One person even told us to “take our intersectional veganism somewhere else.”

Newsflash: being vegan doesn’t give you a free pass to be an awful person. Fighting one form of oppression while actively supporting other forms of oppression makes absolutely no sense.

Let’s do a quick thought experiment. Imagine you’re at dinner with your family, and you are the only vegan at the table. Your uncle eyes your plate and decides to ask why you don’t focus on something more important, like human rights. You stare at him for a moment, stunned. How can he not understand this? You explain the many intersections between animal rights and human rights—connections between meat and environmental racism, farm worker abuse, the language used to make both animals and people seem like objects—the list goes on. You explain that animals also have lives that matter to them, and that regardless of whatever else we advocate for, being vegan minimalizes violence and is the right thing to do. He calmly apologizes and explains that he meant no offense, but that human rights are more important, so the animals will have to wait. And then he goes back to eating his steak.

Angry? I’d be angry.

Let’s imagine a second scene now. You’re at a coffee shop, explaining the moral inconsistency in loving dogs but eating chickens. Your friends are surprisingly interested, and you throw out an ableist term than many vegans still use: “moral schizophrenia.” One of your friends seems taken aback. She explains that she understands the point you’re trying to make. However, she also asks you not to use that term, because it implies that individuals with schizophrenia are inherently violent and immoral. She reminds you that she herself has been diagnosed with schizophrenia, and like many with schizophrenia, she has never acted violently. She is, frankly, hurt.

So you “apologize” to your friend, but you don’t actually own up to the hurt you caused. Instead, you explain what the term is meant to imply, that you mean no harm in using it, and that sometimes we need offensive language to explain such an important issue. Then you continue the conversation, using the term “moral schizophrenia” again. You probably even expect your friend to listen to your message and be totally okay with it.

Oops. You just became the uncle who made you so angry a minute ago.

This is exactly what happens when people blow off human rights violations with the excuse that the animals are worse off, or use controversial language like “slavery,” or “rape” to describe the abuse endured by farm animals. We can argue all day about what does and what does not constitute rape, but the important thing so many people miss is this: it has been explained over and over that using this term in animal rights issues is offensive and even hurtful to many rape survivors. Several rape survivors have asked for the use of the term rape to be left out of these conversations. And since we can use other language to describe the reproductive manipulation and forced impregnation of farmed animals (I just did it twice) this hurt is unnecessary. That alone should be enough of a reason to stop using the word rape in those conversations. In fact, we ought to be willing to turn animal rights communities into safe spaces and fight all forms of oppression, simply because it’s the right thing to do.

Doing the right thing alone should be enough motivation. Our movement—a movement built on love and justice—ought to be concerned with all forms of oppression, not just the forms we know the most about. If you truly need another reason to be kind and inclusive though, here it is: making our spaces safe for people of all marginalized groups is one of the best possible things we can do for our movement. Not only is it right to stand in solidarity with people fighting their oppression, but our acts of solidarity will also help them feel welcome in our spaces and more open to our message.

For example, Collectively Free, a pro-intersectional animal rights group, counts New York Pride among their followers on Instagram. Now, I don’t know the exact reasons NYC Pride has for following CF, but I might speculate that this has something to do with CF’s continuous support of the LGBT community. In the words of Raffaella Ciavatta, one of CF’s co-founders:

“When you have groups like Pride NY follow you on Instagram, you must be doing something right. Unless of course, you simply don’t want to make the AR movement accessible to minorities…”

Building a pro-intersectional AR movement is the right thing to do, and it makes us better. Imagine what would happen if every vegan fought for LGBT rights? Not with any kind of ulterior motive, but simply to support our fellow human beings. We would add millions of voices to their cause. And what if the LGBT communities in turn supported us and joined our movement, simply to support the animals? They would add millions of voices to our cause. And when we join with even more groups, then what happens? What happens when animal rights and racial equality and feminism and LGBT rights and disability rights groups all join forces? Ideally, we could throw off our oppressions together. It suddenly becomes something more than fighting the issues facing each of us. It becomes an issue of liberation for everyone.

We’re stronger together. So let’s stand together.

 

This is part one of a series of posts on animal rights and social justice. Part two will outline some tips for being a better pro-intersectional advocate.


meAris Austin is an author, student, and activist who writes fiction and nonfiction that aims to dismantle oppression. Their fiction has previously been awarded with honors at Colorado State University, where they attend school and serve as president for the university’s animal rights group. Aris can be found on Facebook page and more of their writing is available on their website.