Surprise! I don't usually post on Sundays, but I wanted to announce something that's very important to me on a personal and professional level. One of my favorite posts, Breaking Up with the UPS Man (My Ode to Non-Consumerism) was selected by BlogHer.com for a feature article today on the front pages of their main site, their Green section, and their Money section. (BlogHer.com is one of the largest professional networks for bloggers, geared specifically to women but not exclusively for them.) Special thanks to BlogHer senior editor Rita Arens for the honor.
I hope you will click on the link below to show support for the article. (If it doesn't appear as a link for you, you can copy and paste it into your browser, or you can click on the title "So Long, UPS Man" in the Related Articles section at the bottom.) Super double-fudge brownie points for you (and immense gratitude from me) if you leave a comment about the article at the BlogHer site. (If you have a Twitter or Facebook account, there are also sharing buttons--along with some buttons I don't even recognize.)
http://www.blogher.com/so-long-ups-man
As always, thank you for supporting my work at Joyfully Green. I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me.
I think that I was born "green", with a forest in the back yard and a father who loved gardening, wildlife and nature, and nurtured his children to enjoy and appreciate those things without preaching about them. That last part is important for this post, so I'll say it again: Without Preaching About Them. In my opinion, one of the biggest obstacles that faces the environmental movement today is this rather pervasive notion of "I am greener than you are; therefore, I am morally superior. You need to do everything that I'm doing, or the planet is DOOMED!" I'm no psychologist, but even I know with some degree of certainty that most people do not like being told what to do or how to think. As a result, they will rebel, big-time. Not exactly the desired result for growing the green movement.
As a green blogger, I scout all around the web for discussions about the environmental movement, and within the last couple of days, I found two very interesting and thought-provoking arguments (not arguments in the sense of "You're wrong! You stink!", but more along the lines of "This is how I see it--how do you see it?", which, to me, is so much more productive). The first one was on the blog My Plastic-Free Life, in which its blogger, Beth Terry (author of an inspiring book about living plastic-free--I'll be reviewing it soon), posed the question Should Ziploc be welcomed at the San Francisco Green Festival?" Maybe I'm just an eco-nerd, but I found the post and ensuing forum discussion fascinating. The gist was this: Ziploc has started a plastic bag recycling program, so should they have been allowed to participate in an environmental event, giving attendees the impression that plastic bags can be a green choice? My favorite takeaways from the discussion were this: We can't all be eco-warriors. There are many different shades of green, and if we encourage consumers and corporations to do something green rather than nothing green, at least that's a first step. It's highly debatable, though, as other commenters suggested that giving Ziploc a presence at a green event is completely misleading and unethical, and should be discouraged at all costs.
"[Dayton] expressed fury over his students’ nature deficit, and
said that higher education is aiding and abetting that disconnection.
Observational science is devalued. Research unversities have
dramatically reduced the teaching of natural history, instead favoring
the study of lab-created organisms that can be patented for profit."
A commenter on the above thread spoke about how many teens today are highly resistant to the environmental movement because they don't like adults telling them what to do about the world's problems--they also don't like the "alarmism" and the constant threats of doom, so they just tune it right out. As I commented in reply: "That is a daunting observation and there is much truth in
the part about teens rebelling against ideas that are forcefully fed to them.
However, my main takeaway from Louv's article was his point here: 'To protect
anything, you first have to love it. To love anything, you first must get to
know it.' If we nurture children from a very young age (long before they
hit the teen years) and let them more fully experience and explore nature, then
that is more than half the battle. I don't have the answer for what to do about
the problem of youth who have made it out of their early childhood years
without having been encouraged to explore and appreciate nature, but just as in
learning a foreign language, the earlier we can start the process, the better
the chances it will stick."
Speaking of efforts for children at a very young age, for the past three years, I've chaired the green team at my children's school (pre-school through 8th grade), which requires me to speak at parents' Back-to-School nights about our green mission for the school year and the related fundraiser to support it. Even before speaking at these events, I can pretty accurately guess which parents will glaze over and start texting, and which parents will support the fundraiser. The simple fact, I think, is this: You're either interested in being green or you're not, and there's very little wiggle room for influence, let alone outright conversion in mindset. This belief can strike panic in the hearts of environmentalists, because on a regular basis, we see that famous photo of the polar bear on the shrinking ice cap, and we hear the planetary clock ticking louder and louder with each passing minute.
Before I even started a blog, I was researching green blogs and found a rather unorthodox tagline at EcoCred: "Gaining ecocred without becoming an eco-douche." Yikes, that's harsh, but I find it hilarious and true, because for people who are not interested in the environment, that's often how they view us "greenies." They get hopping-mad and defensive with environmentalists because they feel we're all trying to get them to donate their cars, buy a bike, live on a farm, grow all of their own organic food, use windmills for power and soy candles for light. And the environmentalists get mad at them in return for scoffing at and dismissing problems which are of paramount importance...to environmentalists. I emphasize that last part because other people have their own causes which are of paramount importance to them. We can't all be passionate about the same things.
My
friend (I'll call her Barbara) occasionally buys styrofoam cups and has one
of those popular coffee machines at home with the little disposable plastic containers
for each serving. She sheepishly tells me, "I'm not that green." BUT, she has a wide assortment of thermoses for her
children because she has tried mightily to find the ones that won't leak,
instead of buying juice boxes. She also was the one who first suggested
that I start our school's green team, offering to help me with it. So, she led me
to the green place where I am today, literally changing my life personally and professionally, and I
am immensely grateful to her for that. Unwittingly, she has been one of
my green mentors and has advanced me much farther along on the green spectrum--so who greened whom? (Thank you, "Barbara"--you know who you are!)
As for being green myself: If there are many shades of green, I would be on the darker end of the spectrum (forest green?), but in no way am I the very deepest green I could be. Unlike
Ed Begley, Jr., I don't have a composting toilet and don't ride a bike anywhere except around the neighborhood
with my kids, and we don't own any electric or hybrid vehicles. In fact, we have a (gasp!) mini-van. BUT, we also have a Suburu Forester, which is labeled a "partial zero-emissions vehicle" (although I wasn't clear on how a car could be classified as containing "some" and "none" of something until I read this explanation), and we're seriously considering a hybrid when we trade in the van. Unlike Jay Shafer, I don't live in a tiny house (far from it, although I do find his 89-square-foot house charming and cozy, in a rather Hobbit-like way). BUT, we do compost our food scraps at our home, use LED and CFL bulbs, and power the house with alternative sources of energy (wind, solar, hydro) through our electric company.
Notice that I set up those constructs with "Barbara does this un-green thing, BUT then there's this green thing that makes up for it" and "I am not the deepest shade of green, BUT because we do such-and-such at our home, I still consider myself green." These are excuses of a sort--kind of like buying carbon offsets. We do what we think we can, but not all that we actually could do if we honestly set ourselves to the task of being 100% green. However, trying to be "ever greener" or perfectly green is time-consuming, expensive, exhausting, and guilt-inducing. I searched "green guilt" on Google and it returned 48,600,00 results. A survey on earth911.com says green guilt has more than doubled since 2009. Not only can't we all be eco-warriors, but we can't be eco-saints either.
One of the most important lessons I've learned so far (not just related to environmentalism) is that it is very difficult--if not impossible--to change people fundamentally. And yet, if you're really passionate about a topic, it's very difficult to shut up about it. However, instead of trying to preach to people who clearly don't want a sermon, perhaps we should just focus on our own progress, on our own journey along the green spectrum. Can we make some improvements in our own personal "greenification" this year? How can we influence people positively and non-judgmentally--people who are ripe for influencing (our children, our students), as well as those who are receptive to change (green wannabes and eco-rookies of all ages)?
I love the old adage: "You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make it drink." In this case, perhaps it can be amended: "Get off your green high horse, and simply offer a ride." My dad would have approved.
Food for thought: Where do you stand on the green spectrum? How can you personally go greener? How do you share your passion about being green without being obnoxious, sanctimonious, or judgmental about it?
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(c)
2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photos and
text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
It's been difficult to write this post. Not because we spent three days* without heat and electricity, but because millions of people in the Northeast are still struggling, far worse than we did, over a week later, from the wrath and the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. In New Jersey today, eight days after the storm, 566,000 people are still without power, according to the latest news conference with the governor. We got off easy--we lost a couple of trees and a shutter blew off our house. We still had hot water, a gas stove, and use of our telephones. I would say that we were blessed, but I don't want to imply for a moment that others who were less fortunate weren't deserving of blessings. Instead, I will say that we are grateful for being back on the grid; we are hopeful for the full recovery of our region and its residents; we are thankful for everybody near and far who is helping out with repairs and disaster relief; and we send our deepest condolences to those families who lost lives, livelihoods, homes, and treasured belongings.
We are a bit wiser as a result of the hurricane. Here is what we learned (although much of it was simply reinforced):
1) Never take our energy resources for granted. If there's ever been a time to rethink our energy usage and habits--on a personal level, a national level, and a global level--it's when you're sitting in a cold, dark house, lit only with strategically placed candles and a weak fire in the fireplace, with two young children, who have cold noses and cold hands. It's when you're throwing out bags upon bags of foods that have gone bad in your freezer and feeling enormously guilty for the waste. It's when you're going to bed in three layers of clothing, under five blankets, with your children vigorously nuzzling against you, wearing their winter hats to bed and asking if you'll have heat tomorrow. When a natural disaster strikes, it really hits home that our non-renewable energy resources are fragile and precarious.
2) It's hard to ignore the climate crisis when you have three destructive storms within three years (two hurricanes, one blizzard in October--for the latter, see the post entitled "Appreciating Autumn"). A friend called to check in (we still had our land lines) and said he was taking an informal survey: Is the freakish weather a sign of our climate crisis, or just a fluke? You can guess how I voted. Al Gore, in An Inconvenient Truth, warns about the increased severity and occurences of natural disasters as a result of the worsening global warming crisis. (See the post entitled iPad Apps for Nature-Lovers for the app version of his book.) As an environmentalist, I've always been one of his supporters, so it's hard for me to understand those who write him off as a crackpot alarmist when we're experiencing firsthand the uptick of severe weather patterns.
3) We don't need as much as we think we need. When our freezer food was reduced to garbage, we realized that we shouldn't be stockpiling the freezer on a regular basis. In a natural disaster, that food is useless. We could still use our gas stove, so we salvaged what we could from the fridge and the coolers stored on the back porch, and then ate canned food. It made me think of how Europeans typically shop--they buy small quantities of fresh food a couple of times a week, and as my 100-year-old Aunt Ann says, "they don't make a hog of themselves."
A trip to the local supermarket after the hurricane was an eye-opening experience. The aisles were crowded with mountains of trash bags, full of fresh, frozen, meat, and dairy foods that couldn't be salvaged. The cashier told me they lost $5,000 in meat alone. (All of those animals giving up their lives for no good reason...sad.) The photo below is of poor quality because I snapped it on my phone and the store was dark, but I think you can still get the picture of how depressing the sight was. Those carts are all filled with food waste, and this was just one aisle of the store.
We also didn't need the racket of the news. It was actually a bit of a relief to have five days without any television or the internet, especially during this overheated political season. Our township called us each day to give emergency updates of what we really needed to know. Everything else that passes as "news" fell to the wayside. It was a strange feeling to be disconnected from the world at large, except at specific intervals (at the town's charging stations for cell phones and laptops).
We really got down to the basics of survival. What we really needed were candles, matches, firewood, canned and boxed food, and D batteries for flashlights. Aside from the firewood which ran a bit short, we were prepared this time around. We spent a lot of time as a family sitting around the fire, reading by flashlight, wearing our thickest sweaters, hats, and scarves. We all went to bed at the same time-- 9:00 p.m., which I don't think I've done since fourth grade. That part reminded me of "The Waltons." ("Good-night John-Boy. Good-night, Jim-Bob...")
4) Without television and electronics, you tap into your own creative resources. We really had to use our imaginations to distract the kids from the cold. We played lots of games about hibernating animals, so we could cuddle under blankets while pretending we were chipmunks or raccoons. When our kids were at each other's throats with cabin fever, I sent them to their rooms. Not out of punishment; just realizing they needed their own personal time to decompress and relax. I set up a "reading fort" for each of them, layering them with several blankets and providing a large selection of their favorite books.
We also had to creatively improvise for Halloween. For the second year in a row, Halloween was cancelled due to weather emergencies. (Update: Halloween in New Jersey was moved this year to November 5.) Our children typically start wearing their costumes the first week of September and don't really quit until well into spring, so this is a holiday they get really excited about. To make up for their disappointment, we set up Trick-or-Treating stations in the house. I was in the office and my husband was in the dining room, and the kids went back and forth, knocking on our respective doors for candy. It was really silly, and really funny, but it cured the dark doldrums for a spell.
5) We need to rethink our gas usage and vehicles. Fortunately, we had filled up our gas tanks for our two cars before the hurricane struck, because even eight days later, there are very long lines for gas in New Jersey, supervised by police. The state has mandated an odd-and-even day gasoline rationing system. Luckily, we haven't needed any gas yet. We've long been considering a hybrid car, and Hurricane Sandy has made us take those considerations much more seriously.
6) A community of friends, a network of strangers--everybody pulls together in times of crisis. Friends who had gotten their power back before us invited us over for hot meals. (We declined, as we were trying to eat our way through our salvageable food, and we could still heat it up.) Other friends offered sleepovers and the use of their washing machines. Long lines of cars honked their thanks for the electrical workers in a truck convoy from Georgia. Our township officials and staff not only had municipal buildings open for charging phones, but also provided free snacks, drinks, and reading materials for residents. We brought a supply of coloring books to one of the municipal buildings and the kids enjoyed a couple of hours of heat, light, hot cocoa, and cookies.
On a national level, it was also refreshing and surprising to finally see some government bipartisanship in action, as Governor Chris Christie and President Obama amicably supported each other during and after the storm.
7) Hard times magnify your sense of perspective. Although it was not easy being without heat or power, our neighborhood fared relatively well. A few people had enormous trees uprooted in their yards (with the mangled roots sticking up a good six or seven feet--incredible!), but they were thankful the trees hadn't hit their houses.
For those with houses that were hit by trees, they had only to look at the news from the coastal towns and Staten Island, where it was (and continues to be) much grimmer.
8) Appreciate what you have, while you have it, and conserve it. Enough said.
* We lost power for a total of nine days--it went on and off three separate times.
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section at the end of the post. Thanks for reading Joyfully Green!
(c)
2012 by Joy Sussman/JoyfullyGreen.com. All rights reserved. Photos and
text digitally fingerprinted and protected by MyFreeCopyright.com. Site licensed by Creative Commons.
Alison Inches: I Can Save the Earth!: One Little Monster Learns to Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle (Little Green Books) "One little monster learns to reduce, reuse, and recycle." That's all good, of course, but my own children laugh out loud every time they read how Max the Little Monster (before his attitude adjustment) clogs up the toilet with too much toilet paper, yelling "Hungry Toilet!" Kids...they just love the potty humor. Made from 100% recycled paper.
Julia Rawlinson: Fletcher and the Falling Leaves This book is incredibly sweet. A sensitive, little fox named Fletcher cannot understand what is happening to his beloved tree at the onset of autumn, and he tries everything in his power to keep the leaves on the tree. When he wakes up one winter morning to find his tree covered in dazzlingly beautiful snow crystals, it chokes me up every time. Although it's not about saving the earth, the book is a lovely tribute to nature and its seasons.
Diane Muldrow: We Planted a Tree I love how this relatively new book (published in 2010) is charmingly illustrated in the same style as those Little Golden Books from the 1960's. In simple prose, the book explains what happens when you plant a tree and watch it grow, while enjoying the benefits of fruit, shade, budding flowers, and cleaner air.
Dr. Seuss: The Lorax (Classic Seuss) This book is a classic for a reason. As I was reading it for the first time to my children, I could see the shock and sadness on their faces when the very first Truffula Tree was chopped down. Unlike the progression of The Curious Garden (see below), things just keep getting worse--all in the name of "progress." It ends with a powerful message: "UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." Great for generating conversations with young children about caring for and protecting natural resources. Printed on recycled paper.
Peter Brown: The Curious Garden First, I have to admit it: As a mom, I'm *slightly* bothered that a little boy is walking around a creepy city all by himself, and "stumbles upon a dark stairwell" which he decides to head up. However, this book is simply magical, so I'll chalk it up to "willing suspension of disbelief" and let it go. With each page, as Liam grows from a novice gardener into a Green Thumb Extraordinaire, the dreary city in which everybody stays inside becomes a green utopia that everybody enjoys. Liam helps the whole city to bloom, and changes the mindsets of its citizens, simply by taking the first steps and sticking to his mission--without any preaching whatsoever. My favorite parts are the multiple spreads with no words at all, which depict how the gray, dirty city is growing greener and cleaner with the passage of time, thanks to our hero. Printed on recycled paper.
Lewis Blackwell: The Life & Love of Trees Hands-down, this is my favorite photography book of all time. The collection of photographs, from close-ups of leaves to forest vistas, is simply breath-taking. It sits on my coffee table at home, and whenever I need a breather, it's there for me with its exquisite portraits of trees, accompanied by some poetic food for thought. I do find it odd that this, of all books, wasn't printed on recycled paper, but perhaps the publisher felt the photographic quality would be diminished? In any case, I forgive the transgression, because this book is a heart-breakingly beautiful ode to trees.
Richard Louv: Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder I feel like I grew up with Richard Louv. His childhood was so similar to mine, with a neighborhood full of children all outside, playing together, and exploring from morning until our parents called us home for dinner (and then back outside again after we ate). Louv makes some very compelling arguments for limiting technology and reintroducing your children to the powerful, healing effects of nature.
Henry D. Thoreau: Walden: A Fully Annotated Edition Like many other Americans, I read this book in high school English class, but it means much more to me now, as an adult. Living in our "More! More! More!" society, it's always a good reminder that you can, indeed, exist quite happily with just the basics. I chose this edition for the interesting annotations, but also because the cover photograph of a small house in the woods is so tranquil, simple, and pretty--it sits on my coffee table to inspire me.
Ed Begley Jr.: Living Like Ed: A Guide to the Eco-Friendly Life Ed Begley, Jr. is a pioneer in the green movement (he's been eco-conscious since 1970), and he's one of my heroes. I can't live exactly like Ed (which I'll detail in another blog post in the future), but I love his approach: "You don't climb Mount Everest in a single day." He groups all of his suggestions into "Easy Changes" (which he calls "the low-hanging fruit"), "Not-So-Big Changes" and "Big Changes" (in which the biggest pay-offs require some up-front investments). You can pick and choose what you want to try. Have I mentioned that Ed is one of my heroes? Printed on 100% post-consumer recycled paper.
