Author: christina

On Children and Race

On Children and Race

by christina ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

People love children.

They’re adorable, innocent, and wondrous, little human people.  For the most part, anyway.

And I fall into the societal assumption that children are these beautiful things to be protected and sheltered from harm.  It’s not that I don’t think they should be or aren’t amazing.  I love kids and I think everyone should value and respect them.

But I’ve been thinking that it’s strange how much adults love children compared to other human people.  And when kids are going through tough situations, for some reason, it seems like everyone feels that pain more than the pain adults or teenagers feel.

Today, I felt helpless.

—

A little girl told me that she didn’t like her skin.

It wasn’t because it was sunburnt or dry or scabbed over from falling while playing a mean game of double-dutch (do kids even play double-dutch anymore?).

It was because of the color.

And I have studied the theories of racism –internal, institutional, personally-mediated.  So, it shouldn’t be a shock when I hear that people dislike, or even hate, the race they are.

And I’ve met grown people who have internalized racism.  And I feel bad for them and it makes me angry beyond belief to think that a person would hate themselves so much because of something so arbitrary (and when I say arbitrary, I don’t mean it is meaningless), as race.

But hearing and seeing a child–a happy, funny, sweet, caring child– look down at her skin and say she hated it, then look at my lighter skin and say that’s what she wants…it completely broke me.

She didn’t say it in a sad voice either.  I think that’s what made it more difficult.  It was just a simple truth to her.  Just like a kid saying they didn’t like brussel sprouts or doing math homework.

I told her she was funny, talented, and beautiful, no matter what color her skin.  But, it didn’t seem like enough.  She nodded and sighed.   Even if I or her family or her friends say reassuring words, the world around her denigrates blackness to such an extreme.  Working towards an equitable society that values and respects the color of someone’s skin is so much more than one person can handle.

And I know that this little girl isn’t a needle in a haystack.  I know there are people, children and adults alike, that dislike how they look.  And just because someone is or isn’t a child, doesn’t mean their feelings are any more or less valid.  Racism, internalized or not, hurts everyone.

It’s going to take a lot more than reassuring pats on the back to make this right, and in the meantime, I don’t exactly know how to move forward.

What Happens When You Reach a Certain Age

What Happens When You Reach a Certain Age

by christina ♥ 1 Comment

And no, I’m not talking about the oh-so-ridiculously high drinking age of 21 (thanks, America).

Being considered an adult is circumstantial.  Life in America tells you that you become a legal adult at 18.  You can vote, you can be drafted (with some considerations), you can start doing your own damn laundry (although you should probably have started doing that on your own way before that).  The government can treat you like an adult and throw responsibilities at you, but for some reason, your parents can’t, or don’t, or won’t.

So, when you finally reach an age when you are perceived as a real life, normal, human person with enough emotional capacity to pitch a tent in, it’s a little strange.  Because all your life, you’re given excuses for your behavior or your points of view.  When you’re a child, you’re naive.  It’s cute that you think you want to be a ballerina scientist princess singer.  When you’re a teenager, blame the hormones.  It’s “just a phase” that you slam doors and whisper expletives under your breath when you fight with your parents.  When you go off to university, you’re homesick or stressed out.  It’s fine that you’re preoccupied with deciding on a major or juggling classes.  And all throughout your life, no one tells you things.  Not real things, anyway.  Adults are a part of a not-so-secret society and until you’ve reached a certain age, you just aren’t invited.  People shelter their children, anyone’s children, from emotional and physical realities because they think it will stunt their growth or traumatize them to no end.  No one really talks to you in a way that is normal.  Conversations are not real conversations. And you’re expected to just be fine with that.

And then suddenly, sometimes with warning and sometimes without, you’ve reached a certain age. It sneaks up on you most of the time.  I know it did with me.

One day, when you call home, your mom doesn’t just say she’s fine.  She’ll actually tell you things about her life.  She’ll still give unsolicited advice, because that’s what she does.  But, she also asks for your opinion.  She asks because she needs affirmation and consideration–something that you just couldn’t provide before because you hadn’t been that certain age quite yet.

And now you are.

And one day, when you phone your dad, he’ll tell you what’s really wrong with grandpa.  He won’t say it’ll be alright like he did with grandma.  You were young back then, so it was okay that no one told you the truth.  But now you’re a certain age, and for some reason, that deserves the truth.

The thing with being a certain age is that it isn’t a sturdy, standard age.  It comes in ebbs and flows.  You get exposed slowly, incrementally, and then all at once.

You’re no longer considered a child that didn’t know better.  Sometimes you just don’t think about it though.  It seems like a natural progression, but when you look back, you realize that it’s only been one year or two or three since you were just a kid. And now, you’re just a person that can provide support and words of encouragement or bereavement or whatever kind of emotion is necessary for a particular time and place.  And in a way, it’s kind of for lack of a better word, nice.  You are, at a certain age, considered a real person capable of contributing your own voice and thought.

It’s not confusing or extremely uplifting.  It’s just nice.

Because the relationships that are the nicest are the ones that are mutually satisfying.  Traditionally, parents support their children.  And it’s not to say that until you’re a certain age, you don’t appreciate their affection and love.  It’s more that when you do reach a certain age and you find yourself helping your parents as much as they help you, it just makes more sense.

And, I find that when you reach a certain age, you stop thinking about reaching a certain age.  I don’t know if I’ve hit that obscure number yet, but I think I’m making my way there.

—

When you reach a certain age, it’ll be okay to see your heroes sad.  It makes them human.

When you reach a certain age, you’ll stop saying you’re older than you really are.  The pre-mature wrinkles won’t be sources of pride anymore.  You’ll hate society for being ageist, but you’ll do everything in your power to not be called “old”.

When you reach a certain age, you’ll believe in love.  And loss.  And love again.  It will still be hard to let go, but it will happen.

When you reach a certain age, you will still care what people think.  You’ll just learn that it matters more what you think.

When you reach a certain age, you will see that no one is immune to hurt or heartache.  You will also see that no one is immune to smiles or kindness or a really great smelling loaf of bread.

When you reach a certain age, you will stop saying you will get to it eventually.  You will get to it today.  You won’t wait for a tragedy to strike or a parent to yell at you.

When you reach a certain age, you will sometimes wish you stayed in touch with everyone you ever were friends with.  You will soon realize that it’s okay you haven’t.

When you reach a certain age, you will understand that what you think and say matters.  You will apologize when you do something wrong and stand strong when you know you are doing something right.  You won’t be ashamed for not following the crowd.  You will be a hero in your own right.

The Sad Thing No One Tells You After You Stop Being Student

The Sad Thing No One Tells You After You Stop Being Student

by christina ♥ 1 Comment

When you graduate college, after the “congratulations!” Facebook posts stop rolling in, after your relatives stop patting you on the back and stop asking what your future plans are, after all of the hip-hip-hoorays are done, there is a daunting stillness in your life that no one really tells you about.

It doesn’t matter if you’re coming out of college with a full-time job lined up or if you’re still in limbo, wandering from part-time job to part-time job.

I mean, people do talk about it being kind of strange not waking up for class or having to study for exams.  And people talk about how stressful it is to be in the workplace, dealing with taxes, having adult problems.

But those are all strangely little things compared to the big thing that no one talks about.

No one talks about how utterly lost you can feel after you leave school.

And no one says that it’s okay to feel like you don’t have a place anymore because for pretty much your entire life, you have classified yourself as a student, first and foremost.

It has been about four months since I had to stop calling myself a student.  I proudly graduated from an accredited research university amongst many wonderful friends.  I was hopeful, bright-eyed, and sure that things would be great.  But still, I am at a loss.

I don’t know if it is the romanticized notion of the adult world that so many young adults have or if maybe I just clung too tightly to the university. But, regardless of what it is, I feel unsatisfied, like when you are forced to close up a book you just started getting into. People say that chapters of your life have to end so you can start a new one, but what happens when you aren’t ready to start a new chapter?  What happens when you feel like all the characters are having a wonderful storyline except you? What happens when you feel lost?

I’ve always been one to want things to happen organically, but leaving the university felt so forced for me.  It wasn’t natural or normal or some organic progression that made sense.  I just wasn’t ready, or maybe I refused to be ready.

A college education is supposed to unlock so many wonderful doors.  It is supposed to be the track that leads you to some amazing destination.  But it feels like everyone is arriving to their destination a lot quicker than I am.

No one tells you that you might feel that way.  No one tells you that along with adult problems, like paying bills and working long hours, you sometimes feel desperately lonely.

I have a good number of friends that graduated at the same time I did.  I see a good handful of them on a regular basis.  That eases the loneliness.  But, I have a good number of friends still in college.  And though I know we all have our separate responsibilities and roles to take care of, it is hard to not be in the same place, physically or emotionally, as them.

It is difficult knowing that friends are too busy with school to talk to you or spend time with you.  It is difficult knowing that you are no longer an important part of their life because you are not a student like them.  It is difficult knowing that the foundation of many relationships in college is the simple fact that you were in college at the same time as they were.  And now that you are graduated and formally finished with school, that relationship no longer is as important as you may have perceived.

No one tells you that.

Graduating college, I have recently been joking about how old I am.

At twenty-one, I know that numerically, I am far from being what society classifies as “old”.  But, I think what I mean is that I feel “old”.  I feel cast aside by some of my peers, many of whom I considered friends.  I feel unenergized and unwilling to venture out of my comfort zone.  I feel like I don’t know how to move past this strange lull in my post-graduate life.  I feel like I am desperately clinging to the relationships I have because I am so scared of being unable to make new ones.

As a typically extroverted and charismatic person, I feel terrible being so afraid and uncertain of how life continues on when I am so unready and unwilling to move along with it.  I think when you stop being something you identify with for so long, like being a student, that tends to happen.

No one tells you that.

I don’t know if I’ll slowly overcome my obscure sense of abandonment or if I’ll just learn to tune it out.  I don’t know if I’ll get used to seeing only three or four people on a regular basis compared to my multitude of friendship circles I had whilst in college.  I don’t know if these feelings are normal or not.  I honestly don’t know anything.  College taught me a lot, but it didn’t teach me how to deal with not being in college anymore.

I hate to be melodramatic, but no one told me how to healthily grieve the loss of something so abstract as your own identity. Not being a student anymore has been an incredibly debilitating experience for me.  No one told me that could happen.  And even though I’m not technically a student, I’m still constantly learning.

And I guess, that’s going to have to be enough for me.

Growing Up and Growing Out

Growing Up and Growing Out

by christina ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

So I suppose that graduating from university and starting a full time job, as well as looking for a “big kid” apartment calls for a new “big kid” wardrobe.

I mean, that just makes sense, right?

Growing up in my household, with a dad who loves shopping, but also loves bargains and with a mom who is frugal to an extreme, but still loves designer brand purses, gave me an interesting mix of sentiments about shopping in general.

I love it.

I do.

The sort of adrenaline rush you get from scoring an item with a friendly, big, red sticker that marks 50% off the original price…nothing beats that.

I admit, it’s a kind of disease. I have to contain myself still from purchasing items if they’re on sale and I even remotely like the cut, fit, or pattern.

It has made keeping my promise to purchase sustainable, socially conscious items really difficult. But I am still trying my best.

Which brings me to my next point.

I am trying my best. It is ridiculously frustrating when the companies surrounding you consistently utilize irresponsible and unethical working conditions for their laborers and source materials just as unethically. And the worst part is that even though you try and work against it, those options are so easily accessible compared to the more ethical, fair trade, sustainable versions.

Luckily, with being a real life adult now, I’ve tried to make some concessions.
Sacrificing cheap alternatives that you know have been produced through slave labor, under arduous conditions, using materials that are not sustainable or healthy for people or the planet is so much more worth it when you get a quality product that does some social good. I’m still trying to push this lesson into my mind and shift my perspectives, but it is a definitely a learning process.

I have come across some really wonderful companies that are working to do their part in making the fashion industry a more globally and socially conscious industry.

After the jump, I’ll dive right into them!

Read more ›

My Foray Into Pescetarianism

My Foray Into Pescetarianism

by christina ♥ 5 Comments

Meat versus dead animal flesh.

One obviously sounds much better and more appetizing than the other.

…

I’ve been a pescetarian for approximately ten months and people still ask me why I made the transition.  And you’d think that after ten months, I would have a succinct, well-defined answer.  But the sad truth is that I don’t.

I used to fumble around and try to come up with something quickly.  I didn’t want to take up someone’s time with the laundry list of things I wanted to include.  Plus, although they were asking me my reasons, I didn’t think they genuinely cared.

I didn’t know how to explain speciesism or how detrimental it is.  I didn’t know how to explain that it is a form of oppression that is of course so different than sexism or racism or classism, but still has strong ties to those forms of oppression.  I didn’t know or want to have to explain that speciesism often works in tandem with those kinds of oppression and is so systematically institutionalized that people don’t even know what it is.  I didn’t know how to explain that just because something “tastes good” doesn’t mean I should be eating it.  There are a ton of things that are totally great and beneficial for the person acting or doing it, but it’s not that great or beneficial for the other party.  (see: slavery, sexual abuse, domestic violence, etc.)

And maybe it’s me trying too hard to be socially conscious, but I’d rather be someone that tries too hard and makes it a huge deal than someone who doesn’t care at all.  Because at the root of it, I think I tie being conscious of speciesism (and all the other forms of oppression in the world) to being less selfish, less ignorant, less hateful.  Speciesism allows us all to disassociate the suffering of animals from what ends up on our plate.  And honestly, it took me a while, but I began feeling uncomfortable at the images and videos of what truly happens in factory farms.  And I didn’t want to be someone who felt uncomfortable, but did nothing about it.  

This little video is an interesting insight into the factory farming industry and the power of marketing. It’s short, so take some time to watch it if you have a chance!

The power of a consumer is huge.  To me, I don’t think I could rightfully say that I fight against all this injustice in the world, and still turn around and eat another living, feeling being because I have more power than it does in normal contexts.  As a consumer, I am trying my hardest to not support companies that harm other living beings (animals and humans too!) and the oppressive ideology that they tie into.  Because when you eat meat from certain companies, you aren’t just eating meat. You’re supporting the mass killing of living, emotional beings that have done nothing wrong except be an animal that isn’t a human.  And often times, those companies support a lot of other shady shady business (Tyson, Smithfield Foods, and Chik-fil-A are linked to anti-LGBT ideology).  Intersectionality works in good ways, and bad. But, that could be another post entirely (and if you’re interested, I can hook you up with some good readings).

…

If other people eat meat around me, okay.  That’s all fine and good.  But the only thing I ask is that consumers are conscious and fully aware of the pain, suffering, and cruelty that they inflict by supporting factory farms (both on the animals and on human workers — many workers in factory farms face psychological issues because of the intensive killing they do…I also have some readings for that if you’re interested).  If people can be okay with that, then that is their decision and their choice. But don’t go around telling me that I’m “missing out” on eating multiple dead cows or chickens.  

And of course, as a side note, yes, I am still eating seafood.  I’m still trying to come up with ways where I can cut it out of my diet, and it is possible.  But, it’s difficult and it would help if I did have support.  Cutting out meat was hard enough when people around me, friends and family especially, poke fun at you or try and force feed you against your wishes.

It’s hard when you are around friends who eat meat when you choose not to, but there are definitely ways meat eaters can support their friends and their beliefs. Tune in next time where I will write about ways you can support your vegan, vegetarian, or pescetarian friends, even if you aren’t one yourself.

What’s In A Year?

What’s In A Year?

by christina ♥ 1 Comment

It has been one year since I departed from my home, to Denver, to Toronto, to Kenya and spent an amazing twenty days surrounded by wonderful people in an equally wondrous place.

It is strange to think that it has been an entire year. While it feels like it’s been more than a year, it also feels as if I was just in Kenya yesterday.

When people ask how Kenya was, I still don’t know how to explain everything.
I’ve had a year to contemplate the trip and winning Microsoft’s Challenge for Change competition alongside four driven, funny, talented, intelligent people. I know that the world is full of issues of which I am very aware, but I also know that based on the people I met and people I still keep in contact with, I have a great deal of hope that we can work together to tackle each and every one of them.

Kenya gave me a lot of things.
Courage, mostly.

I thought I was courageous and independent before the trip, but it really took me being away from the US, from my family, from my friends, from everything I had known before, to truly feel the kind of courage I needed to improve some really difficult things in my life.
I thought I was empowered and wanted to change the world before. It took Kenya to push me into really knowing that was what I wanted and needed.

I think a lot of times people get big ideas and huge dreams, which is a great thing. It is necessary to have dreams to accomplish anything in life. But I also think that changing the world can seem like an impossible task. I think that people still see things in black and white–that you either change the world for the better or don’t do it at all.

But everything is trial and error. When people want to improve things, it can’t be immediate. And even the best of intentions do not do what they need to do for the people that need it most.
And admitting that, especially when you have big dreams and big goals, is a really difficult thing. People don’t like admitting the things you’re trying to do to improve things is actually not making things better. Especially humanitarians. Especially people who are seen as selfless, strong, good people. Especially me.

And it has been a year.
A whole year.

A long time, but a short time. And I have realized that I have made contributions, good and bad, to this world. And that the impacts I have on the people around me are large and varied, and important, even if I don’t think they may be at the time.

Kenya gave me courage to cut the things from my life that were holding me back, making me sad, giving me strife. It also gave me the courage to admit my initial goals and dreams may be flawed and self-righteous. It then gave me the courage to look inward and start from scratch.

Starting from scratch can be the scariest thing in the world, but sometimes, a lot of times, it is necessary.

A year ago, I thought humanitarianism and international development were clear cut. I thought if you give things to poor people, it solves everything. I was much more eurocentric, less critical, less understanding of different perspectives. I don’t think I was ignorant, but I was set in my ways because I wanted so badly to do good for the world. And being set in your ways and being convinced of your own do-goodery can be the worst thing for the people you are trying to uplift.

A year ago, I didn’t know or understand that completely.

In Kenya, I saw firsthand how that kind of sentiment can be so detrimental to everyone involved–both beneficiaries and benefactors.
I realized that it is GOOD to be critical, as long as you can supply and work towards a shift in mindset. It is not negative to question structures that are in place, especially in a non-profit, development situation. It is necessary, in fact, to push the envelope, question what people’s intentions are, and give the impoverished a space to use their OWN voice.

A year ago, I was very proud of my accomplishments in terms of Microsoft’s Challenge for Change and my research with a close professor. And it’s not to say that I shouldn’t have been proud or that I am still not proud. But being proud slows down the process. It’s not that you shouldn’t be happy and confident of your skills or abilities. But I think that a year ago, the prize was at the forefront of my mind, not the journey or the process. And the process is a long and arduous one, no matter what social justice issue you’re tackling. A proud accomplishment is just another step on the ladder. You are never done with the work you are doing, and in a way, that is a very nice thing. There is always something to improve, some injustice to battle, some minds to shift. It gives you things to work towards. A year ago, this idea would have been very frustrating for me.

A year ago, I did not know the wonderful people I would come to befriend and grow so much from. Being one of the oldest people on the trip, I did not know what to expect. I thought I would be a mentor and source of guidance. I felt a little entitled, to be honest. But I learnt a great deal from everyone on the trip. I got into so many situations that angered me, from seeing poverty porn in action to the oversimplification of some of social justice issues in the modules we participated in as a group. The anger I felt really showed me how much poverty alleviation and inclusive social justice is a passion for me. And, the best part was that I could air out my frustrations with my close friends on the trip and they knew, understood, and allowed me to have a safe space to engage in conversations about everything that bothered us.
A year ago, I didn’t have these friends.
Now, even a year later, I still do.

Kenya was honestly one of the best trips and experiences in my young life. A year later, and I can still say that. There are, of course, details that are fuzzy in my mind. Sometimes, names blur from my mind, but I have Facebook to assist me with that. But there are very poignant moments from the trip that I don’t think I can ever forget. I will still remember the Kenyan salesman at a gas station that tried to sell me a painting by speaking Chinese to me. I will still remember the multitudes of late nights, laughter, huge bugs, mosquito net mishaps, toilet adventures, and dancing to Shakira. I think some of the most memorable things were those that I could have done anywhere else in the world, but it wasn’t anywhere else in the world. It was in Kenya. It was in the Maasai Mara. It was in Mwangaza, where a part of my soul will constantly remain. And I was thankfully with an amazing bunch of kiddos that I am so glad to have met, befriended, and bonded so deeply with.

Kenya and each person I crossed paths with gave me the courage I needed to do the things I needed and still need to do.

A year later, and I am still and always will be grateful.

A List of Helpful Links and Guides for Sustainable and Ethical Fashion

A List of Helpful Links and Guides for Sustainable and Ethical Fashion

by christina ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It has become increasingly difficult for me to avoid the lures of constant corporate consumerism.  As a fashion-lover and avid online “window” shopper, I need to find ways to be more knowledgable about the brands I buy and support.

I thought I would be relegated to thrift shopping and splurging on a fair-trade item every once in a while. But, hopefully these links will help me sort out this whole sustainable and ethical fashion thing.

  • Ethisphere’s list of World’s Most Ethical Companies – a pretty extensive and complicated scoring system behind picking these companies…I’m surprised that Gap and H&M made it on the list!  I’ll still proceed cautiously if buying from them, but certain sections of these companies are safe for sustainably minded people (H&M’s conscious collection).  Plus, Gap (owner of Old Navy, Athleta, and Banana Republic) is on the Public Eye Awards‘ Worst Company list…so there’s some conflicting information going on here.  So unfortunate…can’t Gap just comply with the Fire and Building Safety agreements? Goddamn.
  • Eco Fashion World extensive list
  • Ethical Fashion Blog‘s list of 50 brands…includes some affordable ones too!  And I had no idea Oxfam International had an online store of cute goodies!
  • GoodGuide rates a bunch of products and brands and is pretty extensive
  • SUPER comprehensive blog about the Bangladesh factory collapse and companies to avoid/support.
  • Companies that signed the Bangladesh Accord on Fire and Building Safety
  • Domestic Sluttery‘s list of ethical fashion brands…
  • Humane Society‘s list
  • Green America’s Responsible Shopper
  • Vegan Peace‘s list
  • One Green Planet‘s list

I’ve noticed a lot of ethical fashion brand lists are UK-based…it makes me sad.

And ultimately, this little piece from Jezebel sums it up nicely.

Nationality and Nationalism: Oppressive Forces?

Nationality and Nationalism: Oppressive Forces?

by christina ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I’m sitting on my bed finishing some class readings for my intro course on race & ethnicity–my last political science lower division course I need to finish my degree.

And by now it should be pretty basic and easily understandable, considering I’ve taken several courses on race, ethnicity, and social oppression.

But, I feel like I’m still learning new things.  Learning new things is always a great thing–especially for someone who considers herself an avid learner and appreciator of knowledge.

Here’s the issue I’m having though.

I thought I was pretty well versed in forms of oppression: economic, race, ethnicity, gender, species, sex, mental and/or physical disabilities, and a variety of other ones that I could spend my days discussing.

But in this one chapter I’m reading, the author nonchalantly mentions how race can be linked to other forms of oppression like gender and nationality.

Gender, I understand completely.  But, nationality?  I never even thought that you could consider nationality a form of oppression.

And then, all of a sudden, it really is making me think that, yes, of course nationality is an oppressive force linked with race, ethnicity, and geographic oppression.  It deals with issues of immigration and what country is better and why?

It’s really making me think about how our frame of mind is shaped by the nations at the pinnacle of our global society, these so-called “first world countries” or “developed countries”.  And what makes them “developed” and others “developing” or “undeveloped”? Why do we consider certain nationalities better than others?  Is it pride or misinformation from our government and education system? Or something even deeper than that?  Can we even begin to dismantle nationalism as a form of oppression?  Are nations and countries even the same thing?  And if not, which is more valid–does it even matter if one is more valid than another?  And why is nationalism or nationalistic sentiment always seen as a positive?  Why are vehement individuals that display their nationalism through flags on their front porch seen as dedicated and passionate, while others are discredited as backwards or over-emotional?

I have a lot more questions than answers.  And this new insight is definitely something I will be trying to explore further.

Maybe nationalism works to benefit us, but right now, it appears like it does nothing but divide us into hierarchical positions of power and prestige, which is another issue entirely.

All I can say is that I have a lot more to do if I want to learn more, and that is not always a bad thing.

Conscious Consumerism: A Commitment I Can Keep

Conscious Consumerism: A Commitment I Can Keep

by christina ♥ 2 Comments

Ever since I was young, I knew the value of a dollar–and that dollar could buy you a lot if you knew how to navigate sales racks and bargain bins.

In a world of fast fashion, I quickly became immersed in a desire for more, more, more.  New clothes gave (and still does to some extent) a kind of euphoria I never knew how to explain.  Materialism and American consumerism at its finest.

And yet, as I grew older and learned things about child labor, unfair wages, and unethically sourced materials, the satisfaction of getting that $5 top rapidly shrank.

I tried my best, though, to push those thoughts aside.  Those issues never became a reality for me.  It was and is easy to slip back into the mindset where you think your impact does not matter.

But let’s face it–the decisions we make, especially the decisions about what we buy and what companies we choose to support definitely do matter.

After returning from Kenya and Costa Rica, I find it extremely difficult to justify buying something for cheap if I know the person who made it could never afford to buy it for him or herself.  And it is equally difficult to justify knowing just how much the fashion industry pollutes our environment–that I know our unwanted donated clothes are actually shipped off to developing countries, purchased for cheap, and then sold in markets to families in poverty.

It is still difficult for me to reconcile the differences in what I am so passionate about.  Fashion is something I find to be such a vital part of creative expression and the human experience, though if it comes at the expense of our environmental sustainability or social well-being, I don’t know if it’s worth it.

It’s not to say that I would never buy clothes again, though.

Which brings me to the commitment I’m hoping to keep–and that I’m hoping you too can join me in.

 

I commit to minimizing the negative impact I will have on our earth and global society.  I commit to not buying items that are not sustainably sourced and where workers are not given a living or fair wage.  I commit to sticking to thrift stores if I am seeking cheap thrills, and investing in companies and clothes that are people-friendly (not made using slave or child labor) from companies that commit to minimizing their carbon footprint if I feel the need to buy something new.

I know it will be difficult, especially as a struggling university student and soon-to-be graduate.  But in the grand scheme of things, is the sacrifice I’m making really a sacrifice?  Ultimately, not really.

I will document my experiences here.  Please let me know if you decide to join me in this.

Cheers!

Once is Never Enough

Once is Never Enough

by christina ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

In terms of giving thanks, I wholeheartedly believe you can never say it or express it enough to those who have so heavily impacted you.  Sometimes I think it odd that another human soul can give another so much of themselves and still not be drained so as to stop that giving process.

But, as I have come to learn, for which I am very grateful, we are often capable of giving more than we thought possible.

I know I have another quarter at UCI, but it already feels like the end.  And when things end, we often say thank you (we say goodbye too, but I don’t think that’s appropriate to say yet).

So, I guess that’s what this post is for.  A little bit of sentiment amidst a whirlwind of last minute trip preparations, fretting over final grades, and midnight snacking.  A gigantic pile of laundry sits atop my bed as I sit on my roommate’s much comfier mattress, and I am slightly overcome with a sense of urgency.  I’ll try to make this quick, but I don’t think that’ll happen.  And it is by no means an all-encompassing list of thank-you’s, but a never-ending, never-quite-good-enough compilation of “thank you for entering my life and believing in me”.

—–

Professors & Academics: I had a wonderful evening with a great professor and mentor that I have grown to admire, respect, and love.  I think that often people see professors as intimidating species with lengthy egos and equally lengthy lists of publications.  And while that may be true for some of them, a vast majority of the ones I have had the privilege of getting to know have been genuine and kind in almost every way possible.  I thank them for their authenticity, dedication, and passion they bring each and every day of their lives.  I thank them for pushing me to follow my own interests and for providing me with a model of how to conduct myself in order to make myself (hopefully) as good of as an academic as they are.

Housing: My first real employment was given to me by UCI Housing.  I met and made great friends, obtained some life skills (like learning to deal with people on a regular basis), overcame a lot of my own insecurities, and found out that a home isn’t always a place, but the company you keep.  Thank you to Middle Earth for three great years, and to Mesa Court for giving me the chance to remove myself from things I had known before and allowing me to step outside of everything, if only for a little while.

Friends: I could write for days about the friends I have made here. But, sadly, I do not have days to write about them–I’d rather be spending time with them.  My experiences throughout my life have been shaped by the friends I have made and kept or fallen out of touch with.  Thank you to my friends that have pushed me out of my comfort zones and pulled up a chair to sit right next to me through it all.  People say a lot about opportunities.  They thank people for opportunities and possibilities that they’ve been given.  But I thank my friends for providing me with the foresight and clarity one needs to even begin to think about opportunities they have.  Thank you for putting up with my second-guessing, my irrational behavior, my food cravings, my shower-singing, and dance parties of one.  Thank you for being there when I need, giving me space when I need, and sticking by me even if I say “you don’t have to”.  I would probably, most likely be a completely incapable person without you all.

UCI: I am so proud to have been able to call you my home for my college career (and beyond).  I cannot imagine a better place to learn, grow, and better myself.  It is so amazing how much a person can begin to love a place.  I thank you for the amazing faculty, students, and professionals you have brought together.  Yes, it’s true that every university has some negatives, and I have surely complained about my fair share of them.  But regardless, I am proud to have been an Anteater, and the opportunities I have been given and taken have changed me for the better. Thank you for giving me encouragement and an environment to develop in.  I can only hope and work hard so that I may one day return as an Anteater as a professor, ready and willing to give back to this community.

 

Much like life, this is a work in progress. Stay tuned, or don’t.  It’s really your decision.