Dumpster Diving

 

                I am a confirmed Dumpster Diver. Always have been. My desire to buy used clothes, wear things out, and haul things from the trash drove my mother—who grew up on the edge of the Great Depression—crazy. She loved the new, stylish, bright white and red, crisp and sharp. I’ve always been drawn to the fuzzy. I’ve hauled brooms and mops, laundry baskets, crock pots and afghans, books and papers, dishes and props for my classroom from trash piles. I even found a door years ago for a friend’s house.  Even now, when we do not need anything, I peer into the dumpsters as we walk by. Because you never know.

                At school, I survey the trash cans. I claim it is because I want to know what is being thrown out so that we can talk about systems to reduce waste. Are students throwing out compostable food? Recyclable paper? Dutch Bros. plastic cups? What dominates these days?  Spoiler alert: plastic cups and wrappers.  Setting up a food composting station will probably not profoundly reduce our trash piles. However, kids also throw out cans with deposits on them (we collect cans for Green Club snacks). They leave behind whole pieces of fruit the rabbit or chickens will gladly eat.  I haul it all out.  After a long winter of trash picking, I had a dream that I was pulling white binders out of the trash, exclaiming that they were still good and could be used again. I hate binders; if we made no more, ever, there would be enough for civilization to continue for a hundred years.

                Today,  Mark and I were out for a walk on campus, warming up on a cool morning. We strolled past dumpsters outside of one of the campus dorms. I peered in. Mostly plastic trash. The next, however, was different. A beautiful laundry basket peeked out. Drawn over, I looked in. Men’s clothing. Nice pants, white shirt, grey hoodie…all new, all clean. Two pairs of popular shoes. Workout t shirts that were pristine. What the heck! Men’s clothes, especially in good condition, are notoriously hard to come by and always in demand in the shelter system. I grabbed a clean trash bag and hauled it all out. Feeling a bit like Santa Claus, I carried the bag home. It will be at Vina Moses in the next few days.

    

            Now, I am wondering—is the university our source for good, used men’s clothes? Are there winter coats in there? How much else is being dumped, for whatever reason, that we don’t know about? How do we divert it from the landfill, into other hands? And what type of society have we created that people, heading off for the summer, toss everything they no longer want, out rather than try and find new homes for it all?