With this, my third blog, I will finish discussing our class’s term project, Waste Not, Want Not (WNWN). Here, I am thinking about why and how my associates and I proceeded.
For a time, many people accepted the fact that the sun revolves around the earth. Isn’t it obvious when you watch the sun move while you stand still? Much else that we see anywhere is obvious, but now and then the picture may change in light of additional information.
On the other hand, belief does not need information. Still, my individual experience suggests to me that it often helps. The first question my three-student team faced was where we should look in order that we might help to shed light on campus trash (CT). Where to try to matter?
Please note that I did not refer to CT as a “problem”. I have also learned year by year that ideas flow more freely in a space less cluttered with conclusions. All things considered (that we could think of to start with), our crew chose to examine a well-landscaped section on the north side.
At this time, the WNWN project is nearly completed in its present cycle though when we began, the situation of trash on our campus (as a complete picture) was nearly invisible to us. Then, a problem became apparent the first time we went out to work at our team-designated trash zone.
I do not believe people are pigs yet it was hard to not think so while we commenced to pick up trash strewn all over what was intended to be a pristine section of campus. A grassy swale lies along the edge of the lawn in front of the university’s very stylish Student Recreation Center (SRC). That’s a juxtaposition that must have exaggerated our perception of willful wastage.
Also, the wind here frequently blows strong and steady. Across the swale, upwind and opposite from the SRC, a series of twelve dumpsters stand behind dormitories all along the swale. That trash is not well contained, usually not bagged securely, and the dumpster lids are generally always left open. The swale creates an effective trash net by catching what the wind throws.
The swale’s grass is deliberately not cut, left to grow several feet high and bear flowery heads. By design, it should make the prettiest of vistas. However, the volume of trash not held securely in the dumpsters, which is borne by the wind, has an affinity for that deep, luxuriant grass. What can be done? There are compound issues here but I will merely touch upon only two now.
The appearance of the swale, ordained as a type of primeval environment, is at stake with the ample litter generated by the nearby dumpsters. Immediately, and perhaps effectively, our class could prevail upon the dumpster users to change their behavior just a little. That is, to firmly tie up bagged trash, place nothing else into the dumpsters and (everyone) keep dumpster lids closed.
As for the composition of our whole university’s trash at the dawn of the millennium, there is a lot more work yet to be done before effective, long-term changes can be implemented. To me, our project, WNWN, now only ninety days old, is one small step. Continual study of this sort and integrated with related studies here and beyond, since 1973, can potentially lead to major shifts in waste, which infers consumption, which infers physical sustainability as well as happiness.
Well, that’s all from me for I know not how long. Next week, the fall semester ends with final examinations and along with it, my involvement in the current project. Until another time, I am Your Archaeologist, Tom, signing off.