Failing the Plastics Challenge

Erin Kunkel; Emma Schroeder Section 303

On Saturday, December 4th, I awoke to the magical sight of falling snow. The whole world looked as if it had been turned into a snow globe, and I eagerly ran to my closet to retrieve my snowpants, boots and jacket before going out to play. As I reached for my boots, I felt a sudden sinking feeling as I remembered that today was the day I had determined to take the “Plastics Challenge” and live for one day with no use of plastics of any sort. My boots unfortunately have plastic surrounding part of the sole, and parts of the supportive inserts I use are also plastic. I placed my boots back on their shelf, and reached to examine my snow pants, which I found to have both plastic buckles, and a plastic zipper. Determined to enjoy the snow at any cost, I rummaged around and found my moccasins, which are made entirely of leather and intended solely for use as indoor slippers, a handmade woolen sweater which I was certain had no extra spandex or elastic, and several 100% cotton T-shirts. Proud of my ability to assemble an outfit which involved no plastic, I began eagerly dressing for my day outside…until I realized I had no pants. I searched my drawers for some sort of pants that had no spandex or elastic in the pants or waistband, but I had no luck. I then realized that every pair of underwear or socks I owned contained elastic or spandex, meaning that to succeed in this plastic challenge, I would have to forgo pants, underwear and socks. Totally inappropriate (not to mention illegal), especially in this weather. So I made my first violation of the “no plastic!” rule before I had even left my room. I put on my least elastic pair or pants and grabbed my shower caddy to head to the bathroom. Then I put the plastic caddy back down, and picked out the individual items that I needed-shampoo, conditioner, contact solution, toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, soap- all of which were plastic or came in a plastic container. I decided to skip the shower and washed my face using only warm water. I thought about skipping brushing my teeth, but decided against it. Then there was the issue of my vision. I couldn’t wear my plastic-framed glasses, but I couldn’t put my plastic contacts in my eyes either. So I made an incredibly stupid decision not to use any eyewear for the day. So I stumbled out into the snowy world nearly blind and inadequately dressed for the weather. I was soaked and freezing after about half an hour, so I returned home to start my homework. I couldn’t use my plastic laptop to do my online problem set or write my Environmental Studies 113 paper, so I read a book instead. After about an hour, it occurred to me that the bed I was sitting on was covered with a fitted sheet containing elastic, so I hopped off the bed and sat on the floor instead. Eventually I got hungry and walked over to the cafeteria for some dinner. I didn’t pick up a tray (it was plastic), and I couldn’t get a salad (the bowl was plastic) so I chose lasagna served on a ceramic plate, which the food service worker served to me with her plastic-gloved hand. The only beverage I could choose with my meal was an iced tea packaged in an aluminum can. I had to violate the plastic rule to use my wiscard to buy my food, but I avoided touching the plastic of the parmesan cheese container. The fork I used was metal, but I first had to grab it out of a plastic container. I reflected upon my day as I ate, feeling incredibly discouraged that I couldn’t live even 5 minutes without using plastic, unless I planned to sit pants-less on my floor all day without long-range vision. I was also feeling lonely, since I hadn’t used my plastic cell phone all day and hadn’t talked to any friends. This is what made me really crack-without plastic, I couldn’t even have personal interactions!! I decided, for the sake of my mental health, to violate the rules again to make some phone calls. I put my contacts in, and went out to enjoy a few beverages with friends. Of course, I only drank out of glass, not plastic cups.