“Motherhood does not exist to be owned,
commodified, or invaded.”

Ashley Capps is a writer, editor, and researcher specializing in farm animal welfare and vegan advocacy. She is also the Founder and Director of the Mothers Against Dairy campaign, a powerful anti-dairy campaign. To mark Mother’s Day, we asked Ashley about how the campaign came to be.

You have mentioned it was a bit unexpected to find yourself running a campaign focused on mothers when you yourself are not a mother. Can you elaborate?

That’s right!— I am not myself a mother. And, with much love and respect to the many amazing mothers I know, I don’t plan on becoming one. For me, there are just too many beings in this world already who are in need of love, care, and protection. As long as there are shelters full of healthy cats and dogs being destroyed every day simply for lack of adopters, I feel like my abilities as a caregiver are best directed at providing a home and family to as many needful animals as time and space allow.

Why did you start speaking out against the dairy industry in particular?  

As a vegan, I am opposed to all forms of exploitation, but I have always found the dairy industry particularly galling. With dairy, we are literally farming mothers for their breast milk. Just think about that for a minute. We force these animals to become mothers, to carry their babies for nine months, and then we steal those babies from them in order to facilitate our theft of their maternal lactations— their child’s baby food— so we can turn it into ice cream and cheese.

For me, the very idea of breeding individuals into existence in order to force them to become mothers so we can needlessly invade and parasitize their mothering relationships is so violently entitled, so deeply offensive, and profoundly anti-mother.

While the dairy industry works tirelessly to position animal milk as a necessary and natural foodstuff for humans, they cannot erase the biological fact that in all species of mammals, mothers’ milk is very specifically baby food, and cow’s milk is for baby cows— just as goat’s milk is for baby goats, sheep’s milk is for baby sheep, and human milk is for young, developing humans. That’s what the stuff is for, and that’s why we are weaned.


Ask any regular milk and cheese consumer to swig a glass of breast milk from a consenting human mother, and they’ll look at you like you’ve lost it. Heck, try recommending the mothers’ milk of any other mammal apart from cows, goats, or sheep as a menu item, and most people will recoil in disgust.

So how is this bizarre cultural dissonance maintained? Much like the tobacco industry, now notorious for its predatory and misleading campaigns, the dairy industry depends upon constant rebranding and investing in a diverse array of authority/celebrity figures for its messaging— from doctors and nutritionists, to million dollar campaigns spotlighting actors and athletes, all insisting how wholesome and good for you— crucial, even— ruminant animal baby food is.

 

And now the dairy industry is using women and mothers in their messaging?”

Yes. As someone who researches the dairy industry regularly, I have observed over the last few years a distressing surge in pro-dairy messaging from an increasingly visible and vocal sector of animal agriculture: female dairy farmers, most of whom are mothers. It is painful and disturbing, to say the least, to see these mothers defending the reproductive subjugation of other mothers, and the destruction of other mothering relationships for profit. But this growing trend is no coincidence; rather, in a climate of increased criticism of cruel dairy farming practices, it represents a strategic industry shift to put more female faces on dairy farming, and to reframe this mother-exploiting industry as a maternal, nurturing one.

From articles like “Why Dairy Farming Needs Women,” which notes: “Farming needs women and all their positive traits,” to the annual Women In Dairy Conference, whose organizers proclaim: “As women, we are inherently empathetic… bound to carry our message of agriculture’s value, wholesomeness and sustainability to a broader audience,” to global industry initiatives like Women in Dairy, Celebrating Dairy Farm Moms, and many more popping up all over the world.

Alongside these initiatives, women and mothers in dairy farming are being incentivized to take to blogging, facebook, instagram, and other high visibility platforms in order to paint dairy farming as an industry of care and nurturing, with a special focus on defending the cruel and routine practice of taking calves away from their mothers.

How ironic, this incessant valuation of family when dairy farming itself is based on devaluing and destroying animal families. Worse, putting these female, maternal faces on the dairy industry gives it a lot more credibility with concerned consumers.

So Mothers Against Dairy is a counter-narrative to this messaging?

Yes. As I observed with increasing frequency the disingenuous and disturbing trend of using human mothers to justify exploiting nonhuman mothers, it occurred to me that creating a platform for vegan moms to share their own reflections about dairy farming could provide a much-needed, powerful counter-narrative. As I mentioned, my work as a writer is frequently focused on dairy, and for years now, I have received comments and messages from vegan mothers relating that the process of becoming a mother was what woke them up to the injustice of dairy farming (and, eventually, led them to go vegan).

Originally, the idea was to publish a one-time Mother’s Day collection of reflections on dairy from vegan mothers to feature at Free from Harm in 2016. But soon after I launched the call for submissions, so many powerful and heartfelt statements began pouring in. I selected 10 of the most impactful for the initial Mother’s Day feature, but as entries continued to come in and as I watched how popular the Mother’s Day piece was, it was clear to me that this should become an ongoing campaign.

And so it has. On Mother’s Day of 2017, the Mothers Against Dairy website was launched, and with now more than 30,000 followers, we continue to publish new statements regularly, and have lots of exciting new projects in the works. To date, we have received statements from mothers in Brazil, Canada, England, Australia, New Zealand, India, and the U.S. We’ve featured reflections on dairy and motherhood from mothers of twins, single mothers, mothers who adopted, mothers who miscarried, mothers who gave birth in their 40s, and mothers who gave birth in their teens. What unites them all (among other things) is the belief that motherhood is an inviolable relationship that belongs to no one but the mother and child; that motherhood does not exist to be owned, commodified, or invaded for cultural tradition, commercial profit, or culinary pleasure; that motherhood should never be a thing we exploit.

Could you give us a few samples of some of your favorite statements?

Here are a few snapshots of some of the most powerful reflections Mothers Against Dairy has received to date.

Is there anything else you’d like people to know about Mothers Against Dairy?

Yes! While the stories and perspectives being spotlighted here all come from mothers, this campaign is in no way intended to suggest that you need to be a mother in order to make this connection. Not at all. But in a culture where human motherhood is celebrated as this sacrosanct phenomenon, regarded as the strongest and most indelible of bonds, I think that mothers speaking out against dairy, and against the exploitation of all motherhood, offers an important perspective about shared experience and the need for collective empathy. And I believe that this perspective may be uniquely poised to resonate with those who might otherwise turn away from conversations about dairy cruelty.

As featured mother Jo’Vonna Johnson-Cooke says in her longer statement at our website:

“While being a mother viscerally reinforces my belief that all children and mothers have a birthright to maternal care and companionship, this is something we should all understand as human beings. Being human affords us the responsibility to innovate and shape our interactions with our environment and other living beings in a way that causes the least harm. And it is our humanity that I would hope would cause us to pause and consider the implications of exploiting motherhood and sacrificing lives and families to take something we do not need.”

Ashley Capps is the Founder and Director of the Mothers Against Dairy campaign. She works as a writer, editor and researcher specializing in farmed animal welfare and vegan advocacy, and is a core staff writer for the food justice non-profit A Well-Fed World, and the animal justice non-profit Free from Harm.
Read more from the Mothers Against Dairy archives and learn more about the campaign on their website, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

“Womanism is about using your own experience to bring
a voice to the voiceless.”

C andace Laughinghouse is a powerhouse of a woman. PhD student in theology and ethics, wife, and mother to three young girls, Laughinghouse is changing the conversation about animal rights in theological and religious circles –– and far beyond. It’s easy to see why everyone from religious figures to leading feminists to African American activists are sitting up and listen when Laughinghouse speaks. She is funny, real, and paints an intimate picture of her family life, telling me how her daughter loves hooting her favorite word – “Poop!” – in public.

Growing up in Oakland California, Laughinghouse was raised in the folds of the Pentecostal tradition, in a church started by her great-grandfather. Her grandfather and father were both pastors, her stepfather a preacher. “The women were preachers, they didn’t call the women preachers though, that’s a whole other thing,” she says, laughing. Like most things with Laughinghouse, it’s a subject we’ll come back to from several angles.

Surrounded by cousins, life in Oakland was about church, music, and family. She was raised in a single parent home until she was nine years old. “I didn’t know we were struggling then. We were eating TV dinners and I thought we were rich… Early on, my mother let me know happiness was not in things.”

The only daughter of a single mother and a fierce grandmother who only recently passed away, Laughinghouse credits the support of strong women for the path she has taken. Though her grandmother would not have defined herself as one, Laughinghouse says the family matriarch was every bit a womanist – a term coined by author and social justice activist Alice Walker to refer to black feminism, which uses the voices and experiences of black women to challenge oppressive systems.

From an early age, her mother sent her to a school where the students came from diverse backgrounds. “She wanted me to experience something different than what we were a part of. That was the earliest stage of me understanding intersectionality… seeing how other people think, and being among others. That comes into the work that I do with having empathy.”

In fact, empathy is a theme that comes through strongly when Laughinghouse speaks about her work challenging patriarchy within the church – a community and faith that remains a strong part of her identity.

That was the earliest stage of me understanding intersectionality… seeing how other people think, and being among others.

Currently completing her PhD on the topic of theology and ethics, Laughinghouse came to study animal rights through a twist of fate. She was applying to law school when she heard about a joint degree in law and seminary studies at Emory University. She didn’t get into law school, but she began at the seminary school where the first class she took was in black church studies. Coming from a Pentecostal church, she says: “I thought I was going to teach these people, and then they started critiquing a lot of black church theologies that are responsible for sexism. I was really offended, I was trying to defend the church I was a part of; I was really challenged.” The experience taught her how to critique her own beliefs, while still honouring where she’s from.

It was in that first class that she began to study women in black Pentecostal churches and womanism. Soon after, an advisor suggested she look at the religious concept of the “breath of life” in animals, and she realised that a womanist theology could be used to challenge all forms of oppression, including of animals.

She decided to switch her focus. Finding that the majority of scholars writing about animal rights from a theological perspective were white men, Laughinghouse decided to chart her own path, bringing her unique voice as an African American woman to the subject of animals in religious theory. “Womanism is about using your own experience to bring a voice to the voiceless,” she explains.

Drawing on her own ancestry, Laughinghouse looks at animal rights from a framework of African and indigenous worldviews, incorporating principles of ecology founded in the interconnection of humanity, nature, and spirit. Her unique approach sees caring for the earth and for animals as both a religious and feminist action. By fighting against oppression of animals, she says, we are fighting all forms of oppression; and by caring for animals we are caring for all of creation, including ourselves. For Laughinghouse, that includes having a vegan diet: “If I’m going to be connected with nature, that involves the food that I eat.”

Standing at the intersection of so many schools of thought, Laughinghouse often finds herself an outlying voice in her communities: a womanist and vegan in theology circles, a woman of colour in animal circles, and an animal advocate in Pentecostal and African American circles.

Womanism is about using your own experience to bring a voice to the voiceless.

So how does she process standing apart in these movements? “Sometimes I feel alone, and I question whether I’m good enough, whether I should be doing this work,” she admits. But growing up in schools filled with such diverse peoples and worldviews, and attending a college where less than 5% of students were African American taught her the importance of communication, of finding a way to connect.

“How are you going to use your voice?” She asks. “When you have a truth, how are you going to make sure it’s received? If it’s negative, if it’s not constructive, then no one will hear it.” Laughinghouse approaches discussion about feminism and animal rights within her communities with respect and compassion. She sees hope in building connections with others, believing that they will reveal the ways in which we’re alike rather than how we’re different, while still refusing to compromise the hard truths involved in the fight for justice for nature, humanity and non-human animals.

If I’m going to be connected with nature, that involves the food that I eat.

She is forthright in encouraging all people, but particularly women, to build these connections. “Your voice has to be heard. And there’s so much power when we not only just speak up but when we come together. Find other women to support, work together.”

So what’s next for the woman who is managing to write her PhD in the stolen moments between taking her daughters to gymnastics, chess, Bible study, play dates, grading papers and speaking to her church leaders about animal issues? “My husband always says: “Finish that PhD so you can get a J.O.B,” she laughs. But that is just the beginning. Her dream is to teach, to speak at schools around the country, and bring animal rights courses into diverse subject areas at colleges, demonstrating the interconnectedness of a variety of human and animal issues. It’s no small task.

“I may not see the end but I’ve got a job to do. And I’m gonna be a part of this.” After all, she reminds herself, “It’s something much greater than you.”

Photos by Jo-Anne McArthur. Interview and text by Anna Mackiewicz.

“I could never have imagined how successful
animal law would be.”

Joyce Tischler. All photos by Jo-Anne McArthur except where indicated.

It’s not just because Joyce Tischler co-founded the first and only animal law organization in the United States that she has been called the mother of animal law. (Joyce founded Animal Legal Defense Fund (ALDF) in 1979, well before animal law was a recognized field.) She’s also a mother to her own daughter and a self-described nurturer whose quintessentially female qualities of compassion and inclusivity have been credited by ALDF staffers for much of the organization’s success.  

Liberty Mulkani, ALDF’s events coordinator, says when she first started with the organization, she was away from home for the first time and missing her family. Joyce would take her and her boyfriend to lunch to ensure they felt welcome, introduce them to people and teach them about the animal rights movement. Liberty says Joyce became like a second mother. And Joyce is like that with everyone who comes through the door, Liberty says. Over a decade later, Liberty is still with ALDF because of the welcoming atmosphere she says Joyce created within the organization. 

But Joyce can’t be dismissed as a softie. ALDF’s executive director Stephen Wells describes Joyce as smart and no-nonsense. Indeed, it’s clear that she’s nobody’s fool, a courageous trailblazer who both forges ahead and pulls back when it feels right to her. As ALDF grew into a bigger organization needing more administration, she relinquished control to an executive director—Stephen—so she could continue to focus on what she loved best: developing the field of animal law.  

Carter Dillard, ALDF’s director of litigation, echoes this praise. He credits Joyce not only for founding an organization in an unheard-of field in a male-dominated world, but for also setting her ego aside and recognizing when the organization had outgrown her. She genuinely puts the interests of the animals first, he says.

Jo-Anne from the Unbound Project team sat down with Joyce to chat about the field of animal law, how animal law fits into the broader animal rights movement, and one thing she regrets.  

On the explosive growth of the field of animal law: 

“I could never have imagined how successful animal law would be. If we’d done this 50 years earlier, we might have failed miserably. But the time was right, following the 1960s and 70s, the rise of the civil rights movement, the feminist movement, farm workers, the environmental movement—all of those came before us, and so our society was really ready for the animal rights movement and animal law. There’s a culture in the legal field of being open to new, creative, controversial ideas. If you look at the history of social movements in this country, lawyers have always been a part of it. I’m fascinated by social movements and the interplay between a social movement and what’s done outside the courtroom and how that influences what happens in the courtroom because it’s really a close connection.

We can’t get good law until society is ready for that law to happen. The law and how society works are so closely connected. It’s hard to see which comes first.

It’s a chicken and egg thing. With animal law, we’ve had to be conscious of that interplay between society and the legal field. 

Joyce Tischler

Joyce Tischler

On working together and playing the long game:

No matter what you’re doing—whether you’re a photographer, or a lawyer, or a demonstrator, or an academic—nobody is working alone. We ARE part of a greater whole, and it all works together, and we need to be respectful of that. We need to understand that this is not a sprint, it’s a marathon. What we’re doing will create change and we might not live to see it, or a lot of it! If you were an abolitionist in the 1700s, you were dealing with a system that was so entrenched that it wasn’t going to end in your lifetime. Did you keep working? Of course you keep working! We have to think about the long term.

On influencing the next generation of influencers:

“By moving law into the mainstream we can create allies. If you teach animal law at the law school level, you get to people who are going to graduate and go into large law firms, become judges, become prosecutors, become legislators. So if you get ‘em in law school they’ll go out into the world and create change, and that’s been far more successful than we realized when we started doing this.

We are mainstreaming animal law into our own field so that when next generation is in court they won’t get laughed at.

We were laughed at in the old days! You can do so much when you mainstream. And you might say, yeah but you’re compromising… We’re lawyers. It’s a conservative field, but you can get so much done through it.”

Joyce Tischler

On the gendered hierarchy in the U.S. animal protection movement:

“To be crass, when the money starts to show up, the men start to show up. If you look at the leaders of the organizations (including mine!) they are well paid, in positions of power. Men are more comfortable with power than women tend to be. Women tend to be the workers, men tend to be the people who tell the workers what to do. That’s such an ingrained part of culture. I think it has to do with where the money is and where the power is, and men tend to be better at grabbing that than women, and that’s what’s happening and it’s sad, it’s unfortunate.” 

On trying to get farmed animal protected and the role of the consumer:

“When we’re dealing with the biggest single issue, which is farmed animals, consumers are our biggest ally. It’s appalling and shocking that there are no—or very, very few—laws to protect farmed animals.

What do you do when you don’t have laws? It’s like being an actor with no script. You’ve got to figure out a way to get those animals protected and you’re bending yourself into pretzel shapes.

The kinds of cases that we take are consumer protection, labelling, environmental laws, clean water and clean air legislation—they don’t protect animals directly. It’s bizarre! So we have to look to consumers—they are setting the stage for what laws we will get or what case law we can possibly come up with.” 

On what she’d do differently and the value of tenacity:

“I would say to my 25 year old self, get the fuck out of your way and just do the work.

Stop thinking you can’t do it, and set aside your “I’m not good enough” crap. That stuff just got in my way.

When I would just stop worrying about whether what I was doing was good enough, whether I was doing the right thing, whether I was getting enough done, whether I was smart enough, tall enough, male enough… when I just set that aside and just did the work, it got done. You don’t have to be the most brilliant lawyer. You don’t have to be the one who went to Harvard. Just do it. Just get out there, pick your project or pick your focus, dig in. … tenacity is a fabulous quality. I’ve learned that by being tenacious, and by just building, building, building, I could be good enough. We women tend to hold ourselves back and I regret that.”

Image courtesy of Joyce Tischler.

On how to become an animal lawyer:

“Learn about animal law as much as you can, read as much as you can, and seep yourself in what the issues are, then decide what you want to do. What calls to you most? What’s your passion? Is it farmed animals? Is it wildlife? Or are you a generalist? I’m a generalist. And then figure out, okay, how am I going to make this my career? There are very few groups and very few jobs working directly in animal law. So understand that it’s going to be tough.

You’re going to have to be tenacious, you’re going to have to be an entrepreneur, you’re going to have to be creative.

Maybe you work at an agency or you start your own. Or, think outside the box. Maybe you go and work at a county level where you can do all the animal work—and there’s lots, if you look for it. Take all animal cruelty cases. Or if you really have a strong stomach, maybe go work for the USDA—the belly of the beast—and try to make change from within. Wow, that would be hard to do! I couldn’t do it.

Learn more about ALDF and support their work.

This interview has been condensed and edited. Interview and photos by Jo-Anne McArthur. Editing and additional text by Anna Pippus.