It was interesting to be at home, as my parents are very funny when it comes to environmentalism. They remind me of the French ideal of environmentalism that I saw when I was in Talloires this summer, that is, that one should be very practical about resource use, and that nothing should be wasted. They are motivated by monetary savings and convenience, and not as much by any altruistic love for the environment. For example, in high school, I called them the "energy nazis" as they wouldn't let me turn the heat up above 67 and threatened that if I didn't turn off my lights when they weren't in use, I would be the one paying the energy bill. We have photovoltaic solar panels on our house, but probably as much for my father's love of technology and the long term energy cost savings than for any "green" credentials. In short, my family participates in a lot of "environmental" practices, but not always for the reasons one might assume.
Introducing my eco-self also gave me some insight into how to convince my parents (and others as well) into greening their everyday practices. My mother, especially, doesn't respond well to ideas that I suggest just because they save energy or are somehow vaguely "better for the environment." She especially values convenience. For example, this summer, I suggested getting an outdoor clothesline to use instead of the dryer. "I didn't have a drying for all of grad school," she responded. "You can use a clothesline, but my experience with that ended when I got my PhD!" This reminded me of the trayless debate--people feel a sense of entitlement because they go to the most expensive university in the northeast. So what inspires her to change? Monetary savings, definitely. She also likes environmental changes that have some status or "coolness" associated with them, such as our solar panels. Our job, then, to reach students that think like my mother, is to change trayless from the hippie clothesline realm in which I think it currently inhabits to that of the sleek, sexy solar panel.
One more thing about this trip--I was plagued by a sense of cognitive dissonance for much of it. From the fact that I was even flying, to the plastic cup that was forced on me on the airplane, to the driving I did and the food wastes that all went down the garbage disposal--every little thing reminded me of how I could do it better. I changed my routines as best as I could to quell this feeling--I made the Thanksgiving fruit salad with local and seasonal fruits, carpooled when I could, educated my family about the items they throw away that could be recycled--but it never seemed like enough. The feeling seemed to go beyond cognitive dissonance and sometimes manifested itself into just feeling guilty about nearly every action. Driving around my town makes me happy, and since I don't drive at school, I used to feel justified about my uninhibited car use during breaks. But now, the joy of driving is bogged down by thoughts about my environmental impact. I didn't mind changing little things that I didn't even think about, or that are only a bit of an inconvenience. But how far am I willing to go in order to practice what I preach? Will I be able to give up something that provides me with both convenience and happiness, like driving? Is the negation of my guilt enough of a reward in return? Things to think about, definitely, as the semester draws to a close.
