The T-Shirt Destroyer

Every time I purge through my closet, I come across a shirt that, despite the fact I've maybe never worn it more than once, I decide to keep. I bet everybody has some of these shirts: the shirt you bought on a trip, a shirt you bought at a concert, and, of course, a shirt for every group and club you were ever a part of.

I have over 60 of these vacation/club/event t-shirts just hanging up in my closet. I don't wear them because they are too large and boxy. I do kind of care about my appearance in that I don't want to look like I'm a little kid wearing their parent's clothes for dress-up. You know what I mean?

It has definitely put a cramp in my simplifying style to keep all of these shirts, and yet I can't just let them go. So now I just have a bunch of shirts just waiting to be made useful again. 

Luckily, there is a wealth of DIY T-shirt project tutorials on the internet that teach you how to make your t-shirts usable and wearable again. One evening, I decided to give the DIY craze a shot. I chose one that seemed simple enough: cut down the sides in a curved pattern, make some fringes, tie the fringes down the side and viola! I've got myself a fitted t-shirt!

Not-so-luckily, I am apparently under the false impression that I am a crafty person.

Needless to say, how the shirt was supposed to turn out and my finished product did not match up:

I pretty much ended up with a mutilated t-shirt. It was completely unusable as an article of clothing by the time I was finished with it. My first mistake was probably attempting this at 3am in the morning. My next mistake was using scissors that do next to nothing in the cutting arena.

So, that T-shirt is now various rags that I use to wipe off dust on my furniture. At least it's sort of useful?

It's a good thing I used a "test" t-shirt this time around, so I didn't ruin any of my more "precious" t-shirts. However, I'm still stuck with my original problem combined with a new fear of these "easy" DIY projects.

Should I recruit someone with a sewing machine to make a quilt out of the t-shirts? Since t-shirt fabric is hard to work with, is it even worth the effort? Do I even care about these shirts anymore?

While I ponder what to do with these currently useless materialized forms of memories, I should probably figure out what, if anything, I should collect as token of remembrance instead of more t-shirts. My uncle collects shot glasses. A good friend of mine collects coffee mugs. My dad had a short stint of collecting fridge magnets. What do you collect?

~AM

The Missed Photograph

One morning, I saw one of the most gorgeous sunrises I've ever seen in my life. However, my thoughts were not of wonder and awe. Oh no. I flipped out because I didn't have my camera to take a picture of it.

Instead of just enjoying the sight before me, my need to have a picture of everything awesome I see in nature got the best of me yet again. I missed my chance at a great photograph. At the time, I usually carried around my camera wherever I went, just in case a sight like this made an appearance before me. If only I had not forgotten my camera on this day! Then I could take a picture of it...then....what?

After that day, I started wondering why a photo was necessary....and why I had such anxiety over not capturing that sunrise on film (or I guess a digitized file). I don't really look at photos after I take them. In fact, my panic at the thought that I wouldn't have the sunrise captured forever on photo brought to my attention that I take such scenes for granted.

I have found that cameras don't actually preserve memories of nature, but trivialize them. Had I had my camera on me that morning, I would have snapped a quick photo and went on my way. I would feel great that I can look at the picture later and enjoy it on my time. Screw nature's time.

Without my camera though, I am forced to appreciate the details of the scene. I have to use my senses in order to "capture" the moment. But, what happens if I still don't capture that moment? What if my memory is very, very terrible?

For instance, I don't really remember what that beautiful sunrise looks like. For a long time that really bothered me. I'm a little more okay with it now. I know that it was a unique moment, and I missed my chance to live in the moment and enjoy it.

Photographing nature also has a whole other added problem of dictating what nature is "beautiful" and what is not. I admit, sometimes the macro setting on a camera can give me an entirely new look on some aspects of nature. But what is left out of frame and why is that not the subject of the photo? A website lauding the importance of photography in bringing forth the unseen asks "what would we see without it?". What would we see indeed. 

I don't carry around my camera with me as much anymore.  Even when I take walks in the prairie, I have to tell myself to ditch the camera and make do with my own body. I would rather feel the moment with all of my senses than have a million pictures of beautiful sunrises and frost-covered trees preserved forever in a 2D sensory-lacking existence.

AM

The Meat Eater

Food issues are my my passion. If there is one thing I want to make a difference in, it is how we produce, think about, and eat food. It blew my mind when famous chef Jamie Oliver said that people were dying because of the food they eat. How messed up is that? Food is supposed to nourish us, not kill us.

So I do my best to make a difference in the food realm, but it has come to my attention that... maybe I'm not doing a good enough job?

I shouldn't be surprised, but my interest in food issues leads people to believe I'm a hardcore vegetarian or a vegan. While I am not scarfing down steaks every meal of the day, I am indeed a meat eater. I love meat. It tastes delicious. I tried going vegetarian. I was miserable, unhappy, and actually not very healthy. "You're doing it wrong!" I hear a few of you saying. Seriously though, I get physically very ill if I go without meat too long. I really believe that there are some body types that need meat. But now is not the time for that specific discussion that will inevitably turn into an ugly debate. 

I have been educated and informed about my choice to eat meat- especially meat produced in large feedlots. I know of all the terrible things that happen to the animals I eat before I purchase it. I know about the living conditions in the feedlots, the antibiotics and food the animals are given, and the slaughtering process itself. I know about the unethical conditions workers in the animal food processing industry go through. I know that even if I buy ethical meat,  I should still be eating lower on the food chain anyways. Also, ethical meat still means killing animals, and I love animals.

And yet, I still eat meat. Maybe I need a baby cow to just...come up to me and talk to me or something. 

.....you get the idea. So what's a meat-eating, food justice oriented individual to do? Am I supposed to make a long term pledge to gradually make myself a vegetarian or something? Is that what I'm obligated to do?

I mean, I would say I've made good progress in HOW I eat meat. I definitely eat less of it. I make an effort to support "good" meat that is raised ethically and sustainably. I also have switched over to eating meat "in season" (poultry in summer, pork/ beef into fall and winter). A side effect of all this is that I appreciate the meat I do eat- I'm not mindless, but mindful of when I am eating meat. Traditional meals ranging from grill-outs to thanksgiving are also more special because I'm eating not-in-season meat during those times. 

So at least I'm trying to be responsible about my meat consumption. 

But I still eat meat, and most of it is still not-so-good for the planet. "So why do you eat meat? Why are you being so terrible, AM!?"

You got me, I guess. The best answer I can give at this point is that perfection is only for deities, gods and goddesses.

Also, don't tell me to just shop at organic grocery stores and it'll be all right. Choosing better food to eat is a little more complicated than simply shopping at the right place. For example, take a Co-op: you can buy products from local farmers and get food that has been raised and grown well. This is super great!....even if it is super expensive. However, I hilariously caught myself actually thinking that buying Annie's Organic cheddar bunnies at the Co-op is healthier for me...because it's at the Co-op! It turns out it is NOT the healthier route, just a more expensive way to get a stomach ache.

*sigh* I'll get the hang of this "eating" thing one day. 

AM

The Challenge

For most of my life, I didn't think too much about the stuff I owned. I mean, I've always been troubled by living in clutter, but I didn't really mind having items I was not actively using. I kept a lot of that stuff because I was very good at coming up with "just-in-case" scenarios. The shirt I don't wear but it looks nice? Better keep it just in case I have to go to a more formal event and my other nice shirts are dirty. The movie I hardly even like? Better keep it just in case I want to watch it again and decide I actually do like it. My notes from my 8th grade earth science class? Better keep those just in case I want to relive that class again.

However, after I did a dorm room inventory for one of my classes, I discovered I had things like 12 chapsticks on the list. This made me question both my sanity and how far I will go to make excuses to keep stuff. Would I keep saving stuff for years and years and years, filling every nook and cranny of where I live because MAYBE some of it will prove to be useful one day?

I mean, I am no hoarder, but I had gotten to the point where I started to run out of space for my things. Shoving things in closets and under beds only works to an extent. I was also stressed about the fact that I not only had my dorm room clutter to deal with, but also two bedrooms worth of stuff back home to deal with at some point too.

Now, I recognize that "Golly Gee! I just have TOO MUCH STUFF!" is a glaringly obvious First World Problem to have. Still, having too much stuff causes unnecessary stress in our lives. Sorting, managing, and organizing it all takes time away from fulfilling activities that we would rather be doing. We keep buying bigger and bigger houses not because we have bigger families nowadays, but because we need more space to store all of our stuff. I did not want to have that kind of life. I needed to simplify it.

I seriously actually did a google search on "how to simplify my life" because I guess I believe the internet has all the answers to all the important questions in my life. Every website on the topic had the same basic advice: identify what is most important in your life, and get rid of everything else.

"What is most important in my life?!" I thought. "I didn't know I had to figure out my LIFE just so I could get rid of some stuff!". Now I needed to figure out a way to gauge what matters to me. Needless to say, this did not help my stress level.

I cannot seem to remember where I even heard of the 100 Thing Challenge. In class? Doing my own snooping on the web? Who knows. That part doesn't matter so much. What does matter is that I took it last summer in order to prioritize what I really needed in life.

Well, a version of it.

You see, the actual premise of the 100 Thing Challenge is to reduce ALL of your possessions down to 100 things. I did no such thing (that's for crazy wackos!). Instead, I challenged myself to take only 100 items with me when I moved  into a very small apartment with two guys who had pretty much already claimed every inch of space. So, I could not bring all of the stuff I usually bring to fill my dorm room. Seemed like a good time to try and live simply.  

Based on what I have read of others who have taken their own 100 Thing Challenge, there are a variety of interpretations of what counts as an item. For instance, some hardcore people count each sock as an item. Others leave out "survival items" and only count items that are not needed to keep you alive.

Personally, I did not count items that were shared as a way to encourage myself to embrace communal living. In the end, even with that exception, I still brought 110 items. I was a little disappointed that I could not get my list down any further than that. Also, that number definitely did not stay at a constant 110 as the summer wore on.

I was still very proud of myself though. The challenge, for me, was not about how much stuff I gave up. Rather, I focused on what I gained by taking the challenge: I became more aware of what my passions were and what made me happy.

Today, I am still reducing the amount of items I own. I admit, I am still going to keep things like my Pokemon games. It could be argued that they are melting my brain away and wasting precious hours of my life. But damn, I enjoy leveling up my Jolteon and destroying gym leaders after a long day of classes.

After all, the point of living a more simple life is not to purge all the enjoyment out of your life, but to have the time, money, and mental space to devote yourself to what really matters and makes you happy.

~AM

The Judgement

A friend of mine scolded me for wasting water because  I wash my dishes under a constant stream of running water instead of filling up the sink or a plastic tub full of water and washing the dishes in there. You bet I rationalized why I didn't need to change: I wash my dishes fast so I don't have the water running long, and the thought of my dirty dishes wallowing in dirty water is revolting to me.

As a person who is mildly insane about how clean the things I eat off of are, there is just no way in hell I am washing dirty dishes in a tub of their own filth. Sorry. You know what else? I frequently take hot showers. I eat meat. I also don't ride my bike everywhere. And I still have the nerve to call myself an environmentally conscious person.

Am I a terrible, evil person? Am I destroying the earth?

Because I majored in environmental studies, it feels like every move I make is being watched carefully. Especially by those who deem themselves "environmentalists". It's as if people are just waiting for the chance to gleefully hiss "hypocrite!" when I do something like driving my car to work at a sustainable farm.

Fun Fact: I would love to ride my bike more often to places but I'm waiting for 2 things to happen:
1. A safe passage to bike upon. I'm terrified of biking on roads, in bike lanes next to roads, or generally anywhere near cars.
2. The body parts that help me breathe need to work a little better.

Excuses aside, there is one primary thought that always nags at me everytime someone points out I'm doing something that is not "environmental": How much personal change is enough? If I, and all of the other terrible people like me, did more things like washing the dishes in their own filth, THEN would we start to solve our our environmental problems?

Maybe not so much. It turns out that our individual actions will only produce negligible impacts. For example, public water use in the United States only accounts for 11% of the total water use.  Irrigation, on the other hand, accounts for a 1/3 of the total water use. In just about every realm, public consumption is usually lower than agriculture and industries.

By placing the burden on individuals to change their ways and not on the actual gluttons of resources, we are not going to have any sort of meaningful societal change. Basically, short of killing ourselves, there is no way individual reductions are going to be enough to make an impact on issues like water scarcity, pollution, deforestation and such.

Caution! I am not saying we should completely give up on our own personal endeavors to live a more simple and sustainable lifestyle. However, we should pair this with making industries, agriculture, and the like more sustainable as well. That's where the real impacts can happen.

I'm just asking everyone to ease-up on the judgement of other people around us. If someone forgot to bring their reusable bag, don't tell them they are the reason why global climate change is happening. Afterall, we're not got to get very far if the only reason people are doing environmentally concious things is to avoid shame. Shame may cause an immediate reaction, but in the long run, it is going to drive people away from environmental issues, not empower them to be a part of the solution. People want to feel good too, not just avoid feeling terrible.

As for my personal battle between having clean dishes and washing them the "environmentally right way", there's this crazy new invention that efficiently uses very little water and energy that I just have to save my money up for: a dishwasher.

~AM

The Pilot

Turn on the television at prime time on a major network and environmentalism is mostly absent in the entertainment realm. The concerns of the natural world in general are confined to nature shows that no one really watches except when they have run out of things to watch on netflix. The environment is seen as an "out there" thing, and not something we interact with in our day to day activities. Environmentalists that do show up in popular television shows are reduced to caricatures. They tend to be unbearable guest characters who prance around eccentrically proclaiming their vegetarianism and scoffing at someone for not driving a hybrid. The stars of the show then roll their eyes at their friend whose concerns seem self-centered and not in tune with the real issues at hand.

Interestingly, an attempt has been made at making an animated show that follows an environmentalist family. The Goode Family though, to put it nicely, tanked within a few months. The creators of the show intended to critique and poke fun at the do-good liberal lifestyle. Some critics claimed the show had a poor run because liberal North Americans cannot laugh at themselves. However, based on the one episode I watched, I believe the failure in making this show funny was because it portrayed the Goodes as irrational "others" instead of, you know, human beings. On the other hand, Mike Judge's other show, King of the Hill, presents a conservative family in Texas that everyone, including liberals, can still relate to.

In short, while there have been exceptional environmental characters (Lisa Simpson) that have graced the television screen, there are no hit shows that revolve around a lovable environmentally conscious character. It's a shame really. But because environmentalism is viewed as such a privileged topic to think about and not a real world issue that everyday people deal with (which we all do, whether we are aware of it or not), I can understand why possible attempts to create such a show have not done so well. I also understand that  no one wants to watch a show that depresses them and bogs them down with information on how their t-shirt has contributed to environmental and societal problems.

Still, I think there is some potential to make environmentalism entertaining. There just HAS to be a way to create a green show. I want that type of show to exist. However, I have found next to nothing on how to communicate meaningful environmental messages while still being entertaining. So, I guess the only thing to do is to tell comedic stories that just happen to deal with environmental themes. A green sitcom, if you will.

This blog is my attempt at the green sitcom that doesn't exist. I admit, the lack of moving visuals hardly qualifies this blog as a "sitcom"-- all you'll be getting from me is some mediocre paint drawings to accompany my stories. Nevertheless, the aim is the same: to tell memorable stories you can relate to and be entertained by.

What do you think? Can something be entertaining, environmental, and relatable?  I certainly hope so.

-AM