The Dirty Hippie on Garbage Patrol – Part 2 in a Continuing Series

I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees. Or the non-biodegradable Number 1 and 2 plastic bottles and bags. Whatever.

Since everyone in the first world is trying to find ways to reduce their “carbon footprint,” I feel a little foolish discussing recyclable plastics, but I did promise an update…

We’ve had a few setbacks, one of them being George. George is a man with special needs in the village who does odd jobs for community members. One of his responsibilities is burning the school’s trash…You, dear reader, can probably imagine where this is going…One morning, I checked the bin and found it empty. When I spun around in anger and disbelief, I saw George waving happily at me from the gully. “I burned your rubbish, Miss Betsy.” My anger naturally dissipated, but George and I have had a few heart-to-hearts since then. As a matter of fact, George has had talks with the principal and most of the teachers concerning Miss Betsy’s recycling project. He now knows to stay away (far away!) from the blue bin.

I played the role of Good Cop for the first few days—standing by the bin at break and lunch times, and positively reinforcing the actions that the children took to recycle. They were excited—“Miss, we recycled, Miss!” I hugged and high-fived them and told them that they were making Mr. Lorax—and me—so very, very proud.

I also played the role of Bad Cop—putting plastic baggies over my hands and digging through the bin with the children to retrieve the paper and metal that were wrongly placed in the bin. I inspected what the children tried to put in the bin. I went back into the classrooms and played games: “Can THIS go in the bin?” (NOOOO) … “Can THIS go in the bin?” (YESSSS) But I can’t carry the metaphorical big green stick forever—it is not my job to police recycling. If this is a project that will last, then I need to step back and let it last. And when I removed myself, I saw a few things that made that old green heart of mine swell with pride.

One morning, I came across a pair of legs sticking out of the tall recycling bin. I dashed to the bin and pulled out a very grim-faced Hayden Kinghorn by the collar of his shirt. “Hayden, kiddo, what are you doing?” I asked, brushing him off.

“Miss!” He said, his big brown eyes dark with fury, “Someone put a metal someting in wit de plastic dem. Mi wan’ fi get it out!”

Devontay, a second grader, ran to me the other day and threw his arms around me in a hug of greeting. But instead of his usual “Hi, Miss,” he grinned and said something entirely different. “I am the Lorax! I speak for the trees!” He chirped proudly. “Remember to recycle!”

But it’s the day-to-day monotony that makes me happiest. Seeing the students toss their plastics into the recycling bin without thinking twice is what brings me the most joy. They don’t all do it, of course, but the idea seems to be catching on. For a few students, it’s as natural as breathing: plastics go in the blue bin. There will probably be a Part 3 in this series, and with any luck, next year’s Mount Friendship volunteer will be able to add in a Part 4 or 5. But for now, know that the Lorax would be pleased with the progress occurring in a little mountain village called Mount Friendship.