Vegans’ love for animals extends beyond our quadrupedal friends.

Vegans are a bunch of weirdos. They make you feel guilty about eating meat. It’s like, don’t come and force your beliefs upon me just because I don’t do what you do.”

So believes John, one of several dozen “average Joes” whose video testimonial serves as the driving force behind Seeing Through The Fence, a documentary that strays from the usual cinematic shyness of animal rights activists. Screened on Thurs., Oct. 1 as part of “Chewing The Fat,” a fall semester series sponsored by the Yale Sustainable Food Project (YSFP). Seeing Through The Fence is an innovative approach to discussing an issue that currently looms at the forefront of the ethical playing field.

Eleni Vlachos, the film’s creator, declares that she “is not actually a filmmaker, but a drummer.” This musician-gone-director dared tackle the daunting prospect of making a pro-vegan documentary after frustrations surrounding her vegan activism surfaced in her hometown of Seattle. Vlachos recalls attending local protests in her early days as an activist, wondering if there was a more effective way to address the issue of animal rights in a situation that “promotes a discussion, as opposed to an I’m-talking-to-you-and-you-need-to-listen scenario.”

Vlachos, in an effort to demystify the nature and ideology of veganism, purchased a Canon Mini-DV camera and took to the streets to interview anyone and everyone, from friends to family to strangers, equipped with only a brief list of questions and an unwavering drive to spread her mantra, “Every meal is a choice.” After innumerable hours of research, foot work, editing, and finalizing, Vlachos would create and debut Seeing Through The Fence, her first foray into the medium of film, a risky excursion that has proved successful far beyond her initial aspirations.

Seeing Through The Fence possesses a humble and personal spirit that constantly seeks to actively engage all audiences—including omnivores—in a frank and open discussion about the current state of food sustainability and production in America. The picture serves not only as a goldmine of enlightening statistics, but manages—in a mere 60 minutes—to deliver a crash course in vegan ideology that feels neither condescending nor detached. Vlachos’ footage stands apart from the crowd primarily because it acknowledges a wide array of perspectives and tastefully refrains from the visual scare tactics common in mainstream animal rights films. Instead of revolting an audience into accepting or rejecting a strictly black-and-white moral picture, Vlachos makes an admirable artistic effort to ponder the ethical gray areas of what is arguably a global food sustainability crisis.

Generally, Seeing Through The Fence promotes a diet free of meat and animal byproducts, but approaches this imperative through facts that motivate such dietary consciousness. Regardless of one’s dietary preferences, the shocking pro-veganism statistics presented in the film are sure to convince viewers that there is a need for change. Conservationists might be compelled by the fact that, on average, 990 liters of water are required to produce one liter of milk. Seeing Through The Fence even offers rebuttals to common anti-veganism sentiments, such as the environmental repercussions of growing soy. Although soy plants exhaust the environment to a certain extent, the eye-opening fact that 85 percent of American soy products is used to feed livestock suggests—amongst many other statistics—a massive misallocation of resources.

A grassroots-esque spunk radiates from the picture: the result of the few interviewees whose elaborate personal expositions promote a relationship between the viewer and the many vantage points expressed through everyday discourse. Self-aware of the imperfect science that is consumer activism, Seeing Through The Fence doesn’t attempt to perform any “vegan conversions.” Rather, it stirs the audience to juxtapose their moral foundations against their everyday actions, if only to detect and dissolve dissonance, while simultaneously dispelling the many incorrect presumptions often made about “vegan weirdos.”

During the Q&A session that followed the screening, a quick survey of hands revealed an audience composed of nearly 40 percent meat eaters, an interesting figure considering the film’s warm reception. One could argue that Seeing Through The Fence masterfully surpasses its titular implications by deconstructing the divide between the meat-eater and the vegetarian via sophisticated means and by promoting an introspective reflection healthy for all moral audiences. Vlachos offers a cinematic nod at the human condition with a product that eloquently reminds audiences of their beliefs and actions and asks, “Where might the contradiction lie?”

The panel following the screening aroused many interesting points of discussion, but perhaps most importantly addressed the role of YSFP on campus. Hannah Burnett, TC ’08, Program Coordinator and Lazarus Fellow for YSFP, hosted the event and remarked about the importance of the “Chewing The Fat” series in relation to the Yale community. Burnett, speaking from “reasons deeply rooted in environmentalism,” believed the film acted as a “useful touchstone.”

“Our discussion moved beyond debating an ethics based in animal rights, which I see as a gray area that too frequently overshadows other, clearer reasons to be a vegetarian, or a vegan.” Burnett said. “For example, our current model of meat production requires significantly more land, more water, more pesticides, and more fossil fuels than does vegetable farming. A pound of beans costs less than a quarter as much as a pound of chicken. This year especially, that price difference matters a great deal.”

Although commons may never stop serving meat, dairy, and eggs, the consciousness Yale exhibits as a massive market consumer—information offered freely by pamphlets and the YSFP website—reveal that our school has made great strides toward turning its buying power in the direction of progress. Not only does the Yale Farm publish its practices publicly for students to review (which highlights such intricacies as soil fertility and bed preparation in an effort to conserve resources and fight erosion), YSFP publishes its internal purchasing guidelines so that students may see how much Yale spends to feed its students, and from whom we are buying. Previous year records reveal a heavy emphasis on local and organic farmers, a practice favored by animal rights activists, vegans and environmentalists alike.

For all the meat-eaters at Yale, fret not, for the YSFP has equally remarkable purchasing guidelines that outline how all the meat for campus dining is purchased. In fact, the large majority of suppliers (YSFP’s “First Tier”) are, in order of preference, local and regional ranchers that conduct free-range or organic practices, alleviating the moral implications of purchasing from “U.S. conventional (large-scale operation) suppliers,” who are coincidentally in dead last on the second purchasing tier.

This purchasing transparency, in combination with attributes such as “administration,” “food and recycling,” “student involvement,” and “investment priorities,” has actually earned Yale University top marks on the College Sustainability Report Card with an A in Food & Recycling. Yale currently rests amongst 25 other “College Sustainability National Leaders,” a prestigious ranking on a list compiled nationally and annually by the Sustainable Endowment Institution that affirms the YSFP’s growing success.

While learning about Mother Earth and the impact we have on her wellbeing might sound boring to some, a growing number of courses relating to food and agriculture reflect an increasing student interest in our impact upon the world, on both a widespread and individual focus. A packet found in the dining halls or at the YSFP center outlines 29 courses offered this school year specifically surrounding studies of food, agriculture, and the environment, and the list of guest speakers, special screenings, talks, and exhibitions is nearly mind-boggling.

Beyond the realm of Yale, Seeing Through The Fence is an instance of the growing awareness surrounding dietary consciousness and the American consumer’s impact upon the environment. A trip down to the Criterion reveals a showing of No Impact Man, an independent documentary produced by a family that sought to make no net environmental impact for an entire year, while still living and working in Manhattan. A peek into the dining hall refrigerators reminds one of the growing popularity of soymilk as a true diary alternative, and similar products being created for dairy-derived foods such as yogurt. Top Amazon book sales, most notably the success of Food Inc.: A Participant Guide: How Industrial Food is Making Us Sicker, Fatter, and Poorer—And What You Can Do About It, reflect an increased interest in vegetarian and vegan recipes and dietary guides, as the American consumer seems to have realized the innumerable options, and inherent creativity, present in meat- and dairy-free diets. Consumers are beginning to cast aside the false belief that vegans cannot reap the nutritional benefits of carnivores, and top-notch athletes cite veganism as a tasty and healthy route to physical fitness. In particular, Scott Jurek, selected as UltraRunning Magazine’s North American Male Ultrarunner of the Year in 2003, 2004, 2005, and 2007, has become a figurehead for the national vegan athlete campaign to raise awareness about the benefits of this seemingly enigmatic diet.

A note of admiration seems to manifest itself in the concept of a controlled diet: Vegetarians or vegans are often praised for their moral awareness and self-control. This is not to suggest eating meat is immoral, since the ethical dilemma remains an individual’s answer. But sustainability continues to spread the word, primarily wielding the power of the simple statistic. The most powerful example comes from EarthSave, an international community of “healthy people for a healthy planet,” which recently released statistical figures concluding that the grain and soybeans fed to livestock each in the United State could feed over 1.3 billion human beings (the entire population of the United States and India). The reality behind these figures makes them increasingly hard to combat. That said, the popularity of independent productions and the actions of motivated activists continue to serve as primary means of getting out the message.

Vlachos plans to further develop her abilities as a documentary filmmaker, by upgrading her equipment and starting production on her next feature-length creation. Currently touring with her bandmate and husband, Rob, Vlachos describes her passion to answer her current puzzle: “What prevents ethical principles from driving personal action?” She believes the answer lies only in the documentarian’s process.