1. Crystal Ouellette
Writing 323
Professor Sutter
Persuasive Essay
Trash Talk
The stench curled up into my nasal passages and permeated the depths of my brain. It
was sickly sweet, sprinkled with a hint of feces and death. I couldn't help but wonder if there was
a body or two lying beneath the layers of trash in the dump. I put my rubber gloves on, buried
my nose into the neck of my sweatshirt, and proceeded to hunker down and get to work tossing
junk into the pile. Old wires, a pair of perfectly good boots, weed trimmings, it wasn't my job to
judge what was being tossed, it was my job to get rid of it. Rats and pigeons were everywhere,
scavenging like hungry thieves. They were posted up in the rafters, some could be seen scurrying
out from beneath the colorful patchwork quilt of soiled mattresses, baby clothes, and
indiscernible shreds of packaging and food that make up the garbage of Portland, Oregon. My
garbage. Your garbage. Our garbage. It was an overwhelming truth that I couldn't ignore: We
waste so much, I thought to myself.
I looked behind my shoulder, past the dump trucks and commercial vehicles backing up
to the drop site to make their contribution to our landfill, and there I saw them. Three blue bins,
each about five feet in diameter. The white painted letters had been chipped off, but I could make
out the words: recycling, glass, metal, paper, and plastic. I shifted my gaze back to the mountain
of garbage where I half expected to see a rat king perched atop with a staff and a crown. I could
see broken glass, stacks of paper, and ribbons of metal and plastic interwoven throughout the
mass like veins pulsating life into a monster. The waste covered nearly the length of one city
block and was about twenty feet high. I remembered that this dump site was only one of three in
this vicinity. That meant that what I was seeing was only one-third of the amount of trash in this
county alone. I returned my focus to the recycling bins. They looked like little blue toys. All of
my efforts to recycle and reduce the amount of trash I dispose of suddenly seemed trivial. It got
me thinking, though. If this is the amount of waste the most sustainable city in the US collects,
what about other cities? How much garbage do they pile up? More importantly, how can we
Portlanders be better role models for cities around the country? How can we encourage others to
be proactive about recycling? We need to lead by example.
It's easy to stand on a soap box and tell everyone how they should be living their lives,
but who wants to listen to that guy? The tricky part is getting people to comply with an act such
as recycling when they aren't educated about the detrimental effects of litter or when they don't
see how it affects them personally. If our goal is to increase the influx of materials to be recycled
2. and decrease the amount of refuse in our city, there needs to be some sort of incentive for the
public.
Initially, the proposal of a citation fee in the amount of $50 for those who refuse to
recycle came to mind. Or, perhaps informative classes on the environmental effects of municipal
solid waste could be taken by those who can't afford to pay a citation fee. These are legitimate
proposals, however they would require bills to be passed which would take years, referendums
could delay the process even further, and tax payers dollars would have to support the classes.
We get taxed enough already, and punishing people isn't the best way to get them to understand
the bigger picture, let alone persuade them to want to aid in the promotion of recycling. Positive
encouragement has been proven to be much more effective on people, but how can we use this
approach to get people to care about eliminating waste? We are Portlanders, and we are creative.
We need to think outside of the blue boxes.
This got me thinking, if we can recycle glass, paper, metal and plastic, what else can we
re-use? What if we were to cater to consumerism while at the same time curbing it? The average
American spends $1,604 on apparel annually, according a study conducted by the United States
Department of Labor in 2013. (Bureau of Labor Statistics). This means that in the U.S. alone
roughly $507,024,400 is spent on clothing. (U.S. Environmental Protection Agency). In 2012,
5.7% of total municipal solid waste, or garbage in layman's terms, was generated from textiles.
That's 14.3 million tons of textiles. ( U.S. Environmental Protection Agency). How can we put
such a stupefying number into perspective? The largest mammal on the planet is the blue whale,
weighing in at upwards of 200 tons. (National Geographic). This means that each year we
produce in textiles the equivalent weight of the mass of 72,000 blue whales. Take a moment to
let that sink in. What if that clothing could be recycled? Not only that, what if there was a way to
put that money back in your pocket?
Second-hand clothing was something to be ashamed of twenty years ago. In the 1980's
and 90's fashion was all about superficial value in the States. I remember going to Goodwill with
my mother when I was little, praying that no one from school would spot me and figure out my
secret: my family was poor. I dreamt of having a brand-new pink raincoat with a matching
umbrella. Instead I had my neighbor's hand-me-down faded black jacket. It smelled of stale
cigarettes, with red lining that made me look like a tic who'd just feasted on a dog's ear and was
about to pop. Consignment stores such as Buffalo Exchange and Cross Roads have flourished
over the past decade, thanks to the high-fashion demographic they have targeted for their
marketing strategies. Second-hand clothing has become chic. Who wants to spend $250 on a pair
of boots at a department store when the exact same boots can be found (gently used) at a re-sale
boutique for $23? It's a brilliant marketing strategy, but what if it was taken one step further?
What if my mom could have rented a pink raincoat for me to feel special in, even for just a few
days?
3. Two words: clothing rental. For that time when you have a holiday party or an interview
for a new job, or you just want to feel like you treated yourself, dammit. You find yourself
thinking about that red top you saw in the display window of a boutique. If only you had that
top, your outfit would be complete, or at least you would feel better for a moment, even if it's
just on a superficial level. Yes it's too expensive and you might have to sell a kidney to afford it,
yes you'll only wear it once, but by God it's perfect at this moment and you will have it. After
maxing out your credit card you walk out of the boutique, white knuckles clutching the top that
now rests in the paper bag that smells of perfume. Buyer's remorse kicks in but you pretend to
ignore it. After one blissful evening together the top gets tossed in the back of your closet. You
know it's there but avoid eye contact, much like running in to a one-night-stand at the bus stop.
This is because you know it was a waste of money, and once again you were duped into being a
thoughtless, materialistic consumer.
What if you could have rented that top for about one fifth of the cost, instead? Say it cost
you $100 to buy it and you only wore it once. Had it been rented out to you in your time of need
it would have cost $20, which would have kept $80 safely in your bank account. The next day
you could have returned it and walked away with a clutter-free closet and one less mistake. The
best part of all? We are weening off the tit of capitalist-driven markets by beating them at their
own game. If fashion is targeted at women, so be it. But let's make it on our own terms. Clothing
rental would work because there is still room for profit for the companies renting out garnets. In
fact, they would make more money off of apparel because they re-use it and charge for each time
a piece was rented. Better yet, the demand for textiles being produced in mass quantities would
be drastically diminished. Five women who want the same dress and are the same size could rent
it out, much like renting books in a public library, and return it in good shape within a timeframe
negotiated between customer and merchant. Those five women are all saving money, and there is
a demand for only one dress to be produced instead of five.
Clearly this is only a basic proposal for an idea that has the potential to be grand, but it's
just that: an idea that holds potential, the potential to help save our world. If renting clothing
could be marketed in such a way that it was attractive, cool even, to our consumer culture it
would be one step in the direction towards living responsibly and diminishing the amount of
waste being generated by human beings. It's one small change, but even the smallest ideas have
the power to create a ripple effect and change the world. We only have one precious earth, and
we have made a mess of it with our trash. As we become more conscious of our actions it is also
our duty to try and fix the mess we made. Any chance of reducing, re-using, and recycling
should be welcomed.
Works Cited
"Blue Whale." National Geographic. National Geographic, n.d. Web. 4 Dec. 2014.
