Imagine, if you will, a red-faced activist screaming, "Shame on you!" at a fur store patron. "Murderer!" The look of absolute horror on the woman's face only fueling the animal advocate's rage. "Animal killer!"

It was the summer of 1997. In the seven years since becoming vegan, I had undergone a miraculous transformation from being so unbearably timid, I couldn't even chant at demonstrations (yes, I actually just mouthed the words!) to…well…I don't even know how to describe what I morphed into. Suffice it to say, I exuded sheer fury.

I thought the billions of animals suffering for human luxuries needed my show-no-mercy attitude. I felt that if I kept quiet or let opportunities to talk about cruelty to animals pass, I was no different from those actively supporting animal mistreatment through their taste for meat, eggs, and dairy products. Silence was tacit support of injustice-and I couldn't stand for that. So, wielding self-righteous piety, I was loud, abrasive, and unrelenting, all the while thinking that I was being an effective voice for the animals. Certainly, I thought at the time, once I informed people about the errors of their ways, they'd become vegan and lead animal-friendly lives.

Why, then, was no one listening when I was screaming so loudly veins were bulging out of my neck and my voice hoarse as a chain-smoking lounge singer's? Thinking back on the period I affectionately call the "Summer of Ineffectiveness," I'm sitting here with a tiny smile on my face. Shockingly, at the time, I honestly wondered why more people weren't receptive to what I thought was an effective message of compassion. How was it possible animal killers by the thousands weren't thanking me for showing them how horrible they were and telling me that, yes, they would change their lifestyles overnight?

I've come to see that I was trying to rid myself of guilt for eating, wearing, and otherwise exploiting animals for the first 19 years of my life. Not to sound like a feel-good let's-have-a-group-hug counselor, but the anger I projected onto those vegans-to-be was really the frustration I had with myself for not taking a stand against animal abuse at an earlier age. So, how could the outcome not be ugly?

Most importantly, I forgot how I had been convinced to change my own lifestyle years back. I conveniently overlooked the fact that accusatory, red-faced, picket sign-wielding activists didn't open my eyes to animal abuse. I joined the animal liberation movement after reading about the reality of factory farming and talking with vegans and vegetarians-animal advocates who, unlike me, were patient, encouraging, and supportive.

So, I turned my back on what outreach approaches were effective on me and did what made me feel better about myself. Maybe this judgmental fury let me cope with the outrage we all feel about animal abuse. Regardless, the bottom line is I punished people for not knowing about the ways our society hurts animals and when people felt they were being punished, they were defensive, resentful, and less likely to open their eyes.

Perhaps more surprising than my belief I was acting in the animals' best interest, is knowing I'm now thankful I went through that time. Of course, my evolution as an activist came at the expense of animals-I don't even want to let myself think of how many people I've turned away from adopting veganism by screaming in their faces-but hopefully, my incubation period was worthwhile. Today, I emphasize the positive ways people can help animals with simple, daily choices-like not eating them. I try to be nurturing and supportive instead of hateful and accusatory. Not so surprisingly, people aren't crossing the street to avoid me anymore. Increasing numbers are taking me up on my offers to loan vegan cookbooks and videos of factory farming. I can sleep at night knowing I'm acting for the animals' interests instead of my own.

So, if you want to take a bit of unsolicited advice from someone who's been on pretty much every bit of the activist spectrum, please try not to forget-as I did-that the animals need people to change willingly. While intimidating those around us to adopt an ethical lifestyle can lead them to become vegan, they won't stay that way for long and the animals will suffer in the end. By guiding people to practice compassion for themselves and the animals, we can make a lasting difference. How do we do this? The same way it was done to and for us: leaflet, set up library displays, show videos, solicit animal-friendly media attention to positive events, set up an animal advocacy group, organize, and be nurturing.

Miyun Park is the president of Compassion Over Killing, a nonprofit animal advocacy organization based in Washington, D.C. Working to end animal abuse, COK primarily focuses on cruelty to animals in agriculture and promotes vegetarian eating as a way to build a kinder world for all of us, both human and nonhuman. To learn more about COK, please visit Compassion Over Killing. To reach Miyun, please email mpark@cok.net.