“Time for a family meeting.” These are the five most dreaded words uttered at my house, occupied by a husband, two teenagers, two cats, and a dog … all highly skilled at avoidance tactics. But the word certain to elicit groans and sudden recall of urgent needs to be elsewhere … is “sustainability,” dubbed the “S” word.
Recently I went for broke and declared the S word the topic of a family chat. A bumper sticker that could describe the response is: “Better living through denial.” Yeah, better for them. Denial is no longer an option for me.
I should disclose upfront that I work for PCC Natural Markets, a Seattle-based natural foods cooperative. Five years ago — pre-PCC — sustainability was not in my vocabulary. A junk food mom who could barely define organic, I joined PCC and, since I do the household buying, so did my family. After a few weeks at PCC I started introducing lots of new terms at the dinner table … genetically modified, irradiation, trans fat … the result of working with people who are genuinely passionate about all things natural.
I’ve transitioned gradually from the dark side — one organic- shade-grown-and-fairly-traded cup of coffee at a time — and I’ve discovered that incorporating sustainable choices in my life isn’t as hard as I’d feared. I’ve not yet tried hemp milk in my coffee, I don’t drive a hybrid, and I don’t pee in the dark to save electricity, but I do recycle all my Diet Coke cans, bring my own bags for groceries, and try to get my family to embrace the S word.
Back to the meeting. I quoted a bumper sticker I saw on a truck during a farm tour I took last year: “Compost. A rind is a terrible thing to waste.” It’s no surprise that composting is not a natural impulse for teenagers just beginning to venture out into the world, far from the warm, familiar source of comfort and possibilities (the TV, not their “parental units,” as we’re described to their friends). After all, composting may be a fine idea for people who actually like to do stuff like that, but the garbage disposal is a lot handier and if it clogs from too much sticky rice forced down the drain, dad knows how to fix it.
I was tenacious and declared a composting campaign, promising we’d have even more fun than our last family fire drill. (Well, fun for them; I had to be sedated after finding two smoke alarms had been disabled by my son because low batteries made them beep and woke him up.) We downloaded some composting information (great stuff at
seattletilth.org and
cedar-grove.com and
seattle.gov/util) and will begin our adventure in composting this weekend.
Next up is a “green” household audit covering all the ways we can conserve energy, reduce waste, and still keep peace in the house. I already have a bumper sticker in mind for that. Stay tuned.
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