Sam Plouff
This International Non-Binary People’s Day, we talk with two activists—Sam Plouff and Scott Seven—about the intersections between plant-based eating and gender.
Photographer Sam Plouff (she/they) and artist and entrepreneur Scott Seven (they/them) recently joined us for a conversation about what it’s like being both vegan and non-binary. In this conversation, they reflect on plant-based eating, the abuses endured by animals in our food system, and the ways their gender identities intersect with their veganism. Both Sam and Scott have spent time volunteering with The Humane League (THL), and we are so honored they shared their stories with us.
👉🏼 If you aren’t familiar with the term “non-binary,” we encourage you to check out this helpful resource from the National Center for Transgender Equality (NCTE). People use “non-binary” to describe an experience of gender that doesn’t fit neatly into categories of “man” or “woman,” “male” or “female.” There are so many ways for individuals to express their gender identities, and as NCTE notes, “There’s no one way to be non-binary.”
Hi Sam, hi Scott. Thank you so much for being here—let’s get started! Can you tell us about your journeys towards plant-based eating?
Scott: Most of my life, I was very disconnected from what I ate. Like most Americans raised in the Midwest, all around me all everyone ate was animals, animal products, and highly processed food. This no doubt affected my physical and spiritual health. I’m incredibly thankful that I discovered veganism when I did, not just for the animals and the global environment, but for my own health and well-being.
It wasn’t until my early 30s, in the summer of 2019, that I had a miraculous spiritual awakening that left me forever changed. Something shifted in my consciousness, and I immediately stopped eating land animals. All desire for “meat” left my body. It was like a spell was lifted and I was seeing with new eyes. It wasn’t difficult—it was miraculously effortless.
Several months later, I became fully vegan. In mid-November, I attended my first “pig vigil” outside a Los Angeles slaughterhouse. A pig vigil is essentially a funeral for pigs. These pigs leave the factory farm on a truck and can spend up to several days traveling to the slaughterhouse with no food or water. They are packed into these trucks to optimize capacity for profit, completely ignoring their individuality and quality of life. For the pigs, life has been torturous and brutal. But nothing compares to what they’re about to experience when they enter the slaughterhouse. At the pig vigil, I was immediately struck by the inhumanity and violence endured by these animals. The visceral and heartbreaking scene overtook me, and I was overcome with emotion, unable to do anything but cry in horror.
But as activists at the pig vigil, we are there for the animals. We hold space for them. We give them water. We touch them with love. We try to show them as much compassion as possible during those brief moments. We want them to experience any amount of love they can from humans, in contrast to what their entire life has shown them. We do this, and we also bear witness to the truth. This gives us fuel to carry on and inspiration—however tragic—to continue to be the voice for those who have no voice.
One thing to note is that the logistics of bringing the animals to the slaughterhouse always occurs late at night, under the cover of darkness. This type of evil could only exist out of sight, hidden from the public. I truly believe—now having been to two of these vigils—that children should be taken to factory farms or slaughterhouses in middle school. The horror and inhumanity are undeniable and so starkly appalling that anyone faced with the brutal truth firsthand can only be forever changed.
Thank you so much for sharing. Sam, what was your experience? How did you come into plant-based eating?
Sam: I first adopted a vegetarian diet around the age of ten because I wanted to reduce my carbon footprint, and I didn’t want to consume antibiotics or growth hormones. I went to an environmental school for fifth and sixth grade, and while I was there I learned about the environmental impact of meat. We watched The Meatrix, a short animation spoofing The Matrix, where the characters discussed factory farming in the US.
After a couple of years, I realized that many humans—myself included—viewed animals as objects for our own use. This realization dawned on me after learning about ecosystems, spending time in natural spaces, and interacting with animals. I remember being overwhelmed and feeling terrible that I had unconsciously thought of myself as something above other living things. I feel empathetic to other living beings, as I feel all people do. It’s just buried beneath a culture of disconnect and misunderstanding. In the US, we act as if we are above other living beings, instead of coexisting with them on the planet we share. I now realize that this is not a universal attitude, but rather one that is particularly prevalent in western culture, upheld by a capitalistic and patriarchal approach to living beings.
When I got to college, I learned about the dairy and egg industries. Like many people, I assumed dairy and eggs were harmless by-products of animals. But after learning about the horrors of these industries, I felt it was necessary to go vegan. I was really lucky that THL came into my life pretty soon after going vegan! I joined an animal welfare club in college, and I spent time with THL as a campus organizer for a variety of projects. I still like to participate in THL events where I can!
Today, there are many reasons to be plant-based, including for humanitarian reasons. The animal agriculture industry is incredibly violent—not only to animals but also to people. The violence required of the animal agriculture industry is often displaced onto people of color, who make up the majority of factory employees. Additionally, low-income individuals and communities in close proximity to such factories are often left disproportionately vulnerable to pollution-related health issues. This is now a primary reason I am vegan today: I am driven to sustain and promote a plant-based diet by the injustices placed upon people of color and the working class.
Have you found others in the vegan community who also center race and class in their thinking about plant-based eating?
Sam: People of color have been discussing the intersectionality of food justice and race for a long time. Some great people and groups to follow on Instagram are @soulfirefarm, @queerbrownvegan, @intersectionalenvironmentalist, and @illuminative.
Through education, travel, and meeting new people, I have realized that it is basically impossible to untangle the many social justice issues from environmental issues, economic issues, and so on. Many social justice movements are intrinsically tied to veganism, because they support the same ideas—for example, holding big corporations accountable for their racist, sexist, classist, unsafe treatment of their employees—and generally seek justice for the unfair treatment of people. Many of these systems are so deeply interwoven that it’s not just difficult but unreasonable to exclude social justice from discussions of plant-based diets.
How do veganism and gender coexist in each of your lives?
Sam: Both my gender identity and my veg-lifestyle choices have required learning and unlearning. Especially about the patriarchy, food systems, and western capitalism. There is so much to unpack across these institutions, and as I just mentioned, they’re all interconnected.
I also think gender identity and veganism require open-mindedness.
For me, both dismiss a need for “perfection,” which aligns with the idea of a binary—having to align 100% with one side or the other. Many see veganism as a diet—one in which you strictly abstain from all animal-products. In reality, it’s just a lifestyle of making conscious choices that consider both human and non-human suffering. For instance: I work in a kitchen, and this morning there were leftover eggs from breakfast. Instead of throwing them away and letting them go to waste, I ate them—even though they weren’t vegan. To me, it’s more important to reduce food waste where I can—as long as it won’t make me sick!—instead of following a strict idea of what veganism should be.
This is similar to how I view my gender identity—though it’s an identity, not a lifestyle. I used to believe that there was a fixed binary and that I had to fall on either side of it. Now, I happily exist outside of that binary and identify as non-binary.
A lot of it is a balance. You have to look at how your individual choices impact the world. Individually, people—especially those with economic and social privilege—have a lot more power than they realize. And they can make a real impact on society simply by making more conscientious choices. With that being said, many of our personal choices about food are out of our control, especially for those with limited access and choice. So at the end of the day, I think it’s most important to try and be conscious of what we are eating, and to make positive choices for ourselves and the planet where we can.
Scott: I was raised in an incredibly conservative Christian family. We attended a church where I was taught that I was born a sinner, that my “default“ was sinful, and that I was required to repent on a regular basis. This fostered a form of self-loathing. And this came long before my journey into discovering the truth about my sexuality and gender identity. It has taken a lot of spiritual work to remove that old programming and to accept that, like all animals, I am worthy of happiness and love.
There’s an old saying that “hurt people hurt people.” Until I could accept that I was spiritually sick, I could not become spiritually healthy. It has taken a lot of time, energy, and work for me to get to this place, but I honestly believe that there is a little bit of good in the worst humans, and a little bit of bad in the best. That we are all animals sharing one planet. And that we each have the right to be here. When I think about the human animals who do harm to themselves, to nonhuman animals, and to the environment, I no longer see them as an “enemy“ but, instead, as spiritually ill. And if I meet someone who is ill, I behave with compassion. Many parallels exist between my veganism, my gender identity, and my personal journey with recovery and sobriety. I think the common thread I use to connect all three is “acceptance.”
If I choose to obsess about things that I cannot control, it’s easy to get frustrated, angry, and burnt out. When I accept those things that I have no control over, I have more peace. I can control what I do, what I eat, and what pronouns I use and practice using for others. What people eat, what people do, and what people choose to say are all things that I cannot control. The more I focus on accepting events, circumstances, other people, their actions, and my own personal shortcomings, the more happiness I find myself with.
What better thing can I practice in my daily life that will help animals and the planet than acceptance? Equal to acceptance is compassion. First I must start with true compassion for myself. I must choose to forgive myself for sometimes misgendering myself, for having eaten animals for so much of my life, and for living in my addiction for so long. When I can have compassion for myself, I can have true compassion for the animals and for other humans.
