Rituals can bring comfort in times of grief, but they can also be counterproductive when arbitrary standards override personal needs. While grieving a loss myself, it was interesting to explore rigid societal expectations around mourning in a time of massive technological and cultural upheaval. (And we’re not talking about the twenty-first century: this post focuses on the birth of fast fashion during the Victorian Era.)
Every homeowner has to battle termites at one point or another, in one way or another. The only thing notable about our situation is the stubborn public health professional and organic gardener who refuses to allow bee-killing pesticides on her property. After some research and a couple informed conversations, we revisited a method we tried several years ago — with better results after following the instructions.
I’m trying to transition my wardrobe and home goods to all natural fibers, retiring items that have reached the end of their useful lives and buying responsibly to replace what I have to, when I have to. Although I probably could have managed with my uncomfortable pillow for a while longer, political events accelerated my switch to a comfortable and sustainable buckwheat hull pillow.
We’re taught that recycling is a good thing, and doing it makes us feel responsible. In reality, there are serious limitations to recycling’s benefits when it comes to certain materials, especially plastics – even begging the question if new processes, such as “chemical recycling” are even possible. Unfortunately the plastic industry is banking on our trust, including when it comes to “recycling” fabrics.
Although I don’t buy a lot of stuff, I do accumulate it over time. Wanting to make the “right” decision when getting rid of it means a lot of analysis paralysis around my options. One option I thought made obvious sense with clothing donations was sending unwearable items to developing countries. In reality, that choice carries some economic drawbacks for the people I’m trying to help.
My mom’s clothes had been sitting in bags in my house for over a year, waiting for me to summon the motivation to sort through them… and do research on how to dispose of them responsibly. Clothes are such an integral part of our lives (and economies) that decisions about what to do with them once you have them are not so simple.
Affordability often comes with a price somewhere in the supply chain. In the case of instant noodles, it could be deforestation for ingredients and oil extraction for packaging long before the noodles hit the store and/or adverse health outcomes long after they hit the stomach. Nevertheless, this invention was an unexpected marvel that buoyed the Japanese economy and still supports disaster relief efforts worldwide.
Travels with the Climate Lab took me to Okinawa for the first (but hopefully not last) time. This Japanese prefecture (and former kingdom in its own right) is an absolute melting pot of cultures, disciplines, and functions in society. For someone who is regularly trying to break down silos in my own work, I was thrilled to see what lessons Okinawa had to offer.
During our time in Japan, we had the opportunity to meet with government officials, reporters, and residents of Tokyo, all of whom are responding to climate change in different ways. Because Japan has the ability to mitigate its emissions but also must adapt to more severe weather, it was interesting to explore what has been effective (or not) from the standpoint of shifting a hard-to-shift culture.
The final leg of my Climate Lab took me to Japan. I consider Japan the site of my environmental awakening, but there was still plenty to learn on this trip about impacts from the climate crisis and how to be an effective leader while centering the priorities of those facing the worst impacts. This jam-packed week was as fun as it was challenging.