During a fleeting four-day orientation trip, we saw, experienced, and became intrigued by different approaches people had adapted, or were trying to develop, regarding sustainability. It takes a toll to find everyone’s inner Lorax, yet this introspective journey, however tough it might have been, was worthy and necessary.
The trip gave me a lot of firsts: the four-day camping without showering; closely observing mysterious alligators in the Science Center; eating a Smore (too sweet for me, but not bad); and running into a baby black bear on the road while cycling (glad the mother bear wasn’t there). However, to me the most distinct memory was the visit to Oneida-Herkimer Solid Waste Authority, a recycling plant in Utica.
The afternoon of the first day, we arrived at the plant. With bright orange vests and goggles on, we went straight into the recyclables building. A giant mechanical arm and rumbling arrays of conveyor belts were situated at the back corners of the spacious room. The opposite side was a wall with sprawling piles of recyclables reaching up to the roof. We took a few steps forward, intrigued by some clattering from the “hills”. Hand-size mice were running wild and bouncing from hill to hill. The staff told us this was common, for the transportation of recyclables was cheaper than organics, and therefore, many households and institutions put organic waste in with their recyclables.
Then we ascended upstairs. Outside the sorting rooms, we saw workers picking specific waste on the belt, endlessly repeating the same action. We were informed that many workers had developed motion sickness and had to quit. And thus, unfortunately, the escaped organic waste remains in the recycled products, irreversibly.
Once outside the building I became heavy-hearted. Living in China, I watched a video of a waste plant in Shanghai, but this time, the problem was far closer and much more overwhelming. These plant workers could have had a comfortable environment, where they could pursue what they love rather than going unnoticed and unappreciated. I was caught by a strong sense of guilt: if the public ignores the conditions of the local plant, without realizing the importance of proper recycling, all of us in the county are accountable for the workers suffering. And nobody should do that to anybody else.
Fortunately, as we continued on our trip, we met some incredibly dedicated people who shared their persistent efforts and resolved philosophies of sustainability. For instance, we met Tim and Peggy, a couple who led a peaceful life at Shawangunk Nature Preserve, away from urban noises. We were introduced to ideas such as permaculture, stratified reforestation, and nitrogen fixation. We visited an Incubator Farm in Ithaca and watched farmers’ practice of sustainable farming.
To wrap up this reflection, it was indeed an amazingly eye-opening trip, alarming while heartening. It indicates that now we are really at a crossroads. On the one hand, with urban pollution, desertification, famine, and more severe problems emerging, the environmental challenges we are confronted with are exceeding those of any previous ages. On the other hand, we might have a clue to the challenges: efficient and caring communities that are consciously responsible and widely interconnected. I wonder if Dr. Seuss would agree.
