Summer is over, and there is too much stuff in “Potty Patrol,” Holden Village’s used-clothes-and-shoes exchange area.

Turnover in staff is one reason for the high inventory. So is forgetfulness. Socks of all colors, forgotten in dryers, drawers, and on clothes lines. Shoes, sweatshirts with Holden logos that cost $25, shampoo, sunblock, sunglasses, bug spray, toys, swimming suits, all kinds of stuff, left thoughtlessly on shelves, under beds, in shower stalls.

Up here in the Cascades, garbage is expensive. Everything that can’t be burned or composted has to be trucked out to the dock and then barged down Lake Chelan to be recycled or landfilled somewhere else. Generous Holden guests can be convinced to take a box of good stuff to their local Goodwill, or a box of old running shoes to a Nike shoe recycling facility (which grinds up running shoes into playground surfaces). But no Goodwill needs 200 single socks or shredded jeans, so as a dutiful Holden housekeeper, I volunteered to look into alternatives.

Googling “recycling textiles” uncovered discouraging statistics: Per capita, Americans throw away about 68 pounds of clothing and rags each year. New Yorkers alone discard 193,000 tons of textiles annually. (No wonder New York City has the country’s best textile recycling program.) While some clothing is resold locally, about 145 billion pounds of recyclable clothing a year end up in landfills.

It is possible to sort fabrics into different grades (usable/non-usable, cotton scrap, cotton blend scrap and synthetics) and sell it for reuse as clothing, linens, wiping rags, or fiber for car seats and insulation. But this is not a large market. Most “textile recyclers” end up bundling our clothes in containers and shipping them to countries in Africa and Asia.

That’s problematic. Countries like Kenya place tariffs on imported used clothes—and Kenya has considered banning them altogether—because they weaken the local clothing industry. (For similar reasons, NGOs like Lutheran World Relief won’t take clothing donations. After a disaster, it’s fairer and more efficient to connect affected people with in-country folks making and selling clothes for their own country and culture than it is to flood a local economy with teeshirts we’ve grown tired of!)

And what about the carbon footprint of sending those containers across the ocean?

Sit tight. Here comes my usual refrain about our incredibly debilitating and unsustainable addiction to stuff. If our system for recycling fabrics is dumping them in another country, then isn’t our best option to own fewer clothes, wear them to the end of their lives, and try to turn them into rags or rag rugs?

One of the nine steps to financial integrity recommended in the classic text Your Money or Your Life is to take an inventory of every single item you own. Most people who do this are surprised to find out what’s lurking in their closet.

Have you counted your clothes lately? Give it a try. See how many teeshirts you own. How many socks, coats, and pairs of shoes. And figure out how you feel about your wardrobe.

From energy to waste to water to justice to your bank account, consuming less is the first step to real change. It will take years to ramp up alternative energy sources to the same level as gas, coal, and nuclear power. Cutting way back on power use can lower carbon emissions until the grid catches up. Gutting your clothing budget can lower the demand for landfill…and maybe reduce the pile of socks at Holden.

Anne Basye, Sustaining Simplicity: A Journal

This week’s TueSpot asks our fans to share a recipe from their culture, heritage or location. It stems from our vast amount of fans that come from all over the world and across the USA. So my plan tonight was to also blog about a recipe and how it connects to where I am. I am still going to do that, but I am also going to talk about food as it relates to me in two specific ways: as fuel and as comfort.

I have recently started coaching a soccer team, and tonight I am exhausted. In addition, I have a sore throat thanks to some crazy weather this week. So tonight when I got home from practice I knew exactly what I needed: fuel and comfort. The meal I made was classic, chicken noodle soup and melted cheese on a hamburger bun. (Okay, grilled cheese would be more common.) While I considered this meal to be a prime example of my culture’s food, I also thought about my relationship to what I was eating.

Relationship 1: Fuel

Dinner tonight gave me calories, protein and other nutrients to keep my body moving. My body requires fuel for my everyday functioning, not to mention exercise.

Relationship 2: Comfort

Hot soup felt so good on my sore throat and the meal in total reminded me of being taken care of as a child. In this case, food functioned to protect and heal.

What about people who have very limited access to food? Their bodies also require food to function and their lives and health also require food to protect and heal. Plus, everyone needs comfort from time to time. Tonight’s meal made me think about the different functions of food. Those functions made me consider what I would feel like if I could not refuel and if I could not receive comfort. I would be a mess. Right now, over one billion people are undernourished and they need fuel and comfort just as much, if not more, than I do.

What functions does food serve for you? How would you feel if food was not available to you?

~Lana

Climate change is an issue I have generally shied away from in the past.
Climate change is an issue I’ve been comfortable with not having firm convictions about.
Climate change is something I once thought was untrue. A trustworthy and reputable professor in the biology department at a local community college convinced me of this during a summer class I took.

One awesome aspect of the work I participate in and observe at ELCA World Hunger is that coupled with educating me, it also pushes and stretches me to internalize what I’ve learned about an issue, articulate a position, and then hold to those beliefs. Climate change is one of those issues. I’ve learned through conversations with my colleagues, interaction with many of our resources, like the Hunger and Climate Change Connections Toolkit, reading numerous blog posts, observing the serious care with which this organization approaches its commitment to environmental stewardship, and most recently, through preparation for intentional engagement with people attending the South Carolina and North Dakota Glocal Mission Gatherings on the topic of climate change and its relation to hunger and poverty.

My conclusion is not something radical or new. It’s old news to many of you who’ve been here longer than me. It’s simply this: climate change is happening and is impacting the most vulnerable people in the world. Those who are poorest and most vulnerable have the fewest resources to adapt and cope, and are at the greatest risk of suffering and hunger. This issue that seems to be unrelated to hunger actually is, in a very real way.

My favorite plenary session from the Urbana09 student missions conference (I hope you are not getting tired of reading about this!) was an address from Denise-Margaret Thompson on the evening focused on the environment. Denise-Margaret Thompson is a professor at the University of Trinidad and Tobago. Her work has focused on technology innovation, entrepreneurship and economic development. Hearing her passionate and compelling assertions about climate change was the beginning of a journey away from my reservations about the issue, and an excellent primer for all that I’ve learned at ELCA World Hunger.

Here are some of her remarks:

“This issue of climate change and the environment disproportionately affects the poorest, most vulnerable, and disenfranchised in our world who have no voice and had nothing to do with it in the first place.”

“Sustainability, climate change and the environment is not a new issue. It’s an old issue. But it will require each of us doing what we’re called to do to care for the earth.”

“The informed, deliberate, careful Christian worldview is too often absent because not enough of us have followed Jesus into this neighborhood.”

And my favorite: “Education is derived from the Latin educo, ‘I lead out.’ Nothing more succinctly describes our role in our societies today.”

Until recently, climate change is something I have been hesitant to “lead out” on. But that has changed. And even if I’m way behind the times are haven’t said much new in this post, I hope my honesty contributes something, and maybe encourages you to think about matters of injustice you might be hesitant to lead out on.

Julie Reishus

This is the second in a series of posts highlighting hunger-related activities happening at ELCA Outdoor Ministry locations with the help of Education/Advocacy grants from ELCA World Hunger. Today’s post comes from Mar-Lu-Ridge in Jefferson, Maryland.

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As I write this, we are receiving the first rains in 4 weeks. Our temperatures in Maryland have been as high as 100 degrees, but all is well and our campers have happily watered our new garden every day. The idea for our Garden of Hope sprang from our summer curriculum, Keeping the Earth, and from our desire to involve our campers in hands-on activities as they learn more about how food grows and eventually ends up on their plates. Playing in the dirt seemed like the perfect fit. Funding from the ELCA World Hunger’s Education/Advocacy grant allowed us to establish a garden in our day camp area. We installed a 7.5 foot high deer fence, so that any veggies grown could make it to the local soup kitchens, not into the bellies of our resident deer population. Despite the heat and lack of rain, we have some tomatoes, beans, cucumbers and squash coming on the vine. While our harvest will be small this first season, our campers have had the chance to plant, tend and learn about their food. We encourage them to take these lessons home, and help their families establish similar gardens. Painting boards to decorate the garden is another favorite activity – it’s looking good!

Twirling the compost tumbler has become a daily activity for our campers in the mountain-top section of our property. There is no good soil for a garden here, but these campers see the garden when they hike to Area 3 each week for a sleep-out. Lessons about composting are taught in Nature each week as well. The coolest thing that is happening in this area of camp is the daily opportunity to contribute a quarter to ELCA World Hunger when they visit the store each day. A running tally is kept, groups try to outdo each other, and when the weekly total is announced, they are all amazed at what they have done. So far this summer, we have raised $200 in quarters!

As we learn to care for our brothers and sisters in need, we remember one of our summer verses: “I have come that you might have life – life in all is abundance.” John 10:10b

Sarah Lefler
Director of Operations
Mar-Lu-Ridge

In my very first Hunger Rumblings post, I gave quick shout-outs to three different formative experiences that had huge effects on my passion for seeking justice, with a promise to follow up with more descriptive information in later blogs. I’ve already covered veganism pretty extensively, but I was reminded of another topic I promised to explore more as I read this post from Dan Ruth on LWR’s blog a couple days ago.

Dan’s remarks focus on the huge privilege of choice. He points out how we have the luxury to choose to devote hours to baking, as well as the luxury to choose convenience and instead throw something in the microwave, doing little to no work for a meal.

He writes, “I have a choice between home-cooked, slow food and microwaved, fast food. Having the option to come home from work and throw a certified organic meat-flavored black-bean patty into the microwave shows how little work I need to do to have a nourished, calorie-filled body. Millions of people around the world spend nearly their entire day, every day, gathering just enough food and water to sustain themselves and their families.”

Like Dan, over the past few years I’ve become a huge lover of cooking. I love perusing recipes, wandering the grocery store aisles and farmers’ market stands for fresh and fun ingredients, spending hours in the kitchen preparing a meal, and then feasting on my careful creation. Dan’s realized how lucky he is to be able to revel in the slowness of bread. I’ve realized how lucky I am to be able to choose healthy food over cheap but nutritionally empty food, to choose from a great variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, and to have so many incredible options available to me that I can be adequately – no, abundantly – nourished even while completely avoiding animal-based foods.

OK, back to that formative experience. I promise it relates! The power I have to choose the way I eat hit me hard when I shared a solidarity meal with 17,000 other people at the Urbana09 student missions conference last December. That night each of the 17,000 of us gathered in St. Louis had a small portion of bread, black beans, and two ounces of water for dinner. I will not soon forget the seemingly endless sea of students eating together in that huge hall, all sharing the same simple meal at the same time, intentionally entering into solidarity with people around the world who have little or no access to essential elements to life. While that night the we had no choice besides bread, beans, and two ounces of water, the rest of our lives are characterized by abundant blessings that allow us the luxury of choice. This realization struck me as I walked past the thousands of trays of bread and black beans at Urbana, and helped spur me on a path of becoming more and more aware of the many in our world who cannot make choices about what they eat, who have no access to educational resources about nutrition, and who actually go hungry every day.

Choices about food are only some of the many choices I have the privilege to make. I have the power of choice about my education, work, where I live, how I spend my time and money, and so much more. Dan leaves his readers with this thought: “what I love about the work of Lutheran World Relief (and ELCA World Hunger) is that access to choice, over the long-term, becomes a reality for many people who have never had that opportunity in the past.” I love that too.

Julie

As the dog days of summer wind down (it’s the end of August already–yikes!), I bring you the final installment of the Movie Mondays series.  I hope you had the chance to check out one (or more!) of the titles.  You can find a list of all the films for which we have prepared discussion questions on the hunger education website.  Grab some ‘corn and host some friends, let’s think about how to make the world a better place!  On to our final episode:

Flow: How Did a Handful of Corporations Steal Our Water? 2008 (84 minutes)

This provocative film discusses the “blue gold” known as water—a precious necessity of life that most people in the United States take for granted.  The film investigates the water quality of both tap and bottled water, the accessibility/affordability of clean water in developing countries like Bolivia, and local resistance to water privatization efforts.

For a companion discussion guide, click here.

David Creech

“How was your year?” people at Holden Village ask.

They ask because they know that a year ago this month, I left my job, sold my house, saw my son off to grad school in a new city, and, after a few weeks at Holden, moved what was left of my stuff to a shed on a farm in Washington State.

While my stuff has stayed put, I’ve visited 13 states and 5 countries and stayed in 60 different places (many of them more than once), sometimes for one night, sometimes for a month. I’ve done all of this travel without owning a car and nearly all of it without borrowing one.

Few possessions and no rent or mortgage have made this peripatetic year possible. I’ve traveled unencumbered, and I haven’t missed my stuff. After decades of offering hospitality to others, I’ve enjoyed accepting it from others.

Eventually I will unpack, start a new garden, get a new dog, and be the hostess instead of the wanderer. But first, a few more adventures! And then, where I unpack will look a lot different than the home I packed up. It may be a very tiny home, or a mobile home, or a room in someone else’s place.

A year ago these options were hidden to middle-aged me. Young adults have permission to explore living in groups, teepees, or dorms. The very old are expected to shrink their lives down to a modest apartment or a single room. But the rest of us (in the American middle class, anyway) are stuck. Judged on the size of our house, the exclusivity of our address, our brand of car, we only try to own less or consume less when we “have to”—because the economy has gone south, or our job is toast.

Out here on the house-less, stuff-less fringes, I’m feeling free and having a great time.  Now that the eight place settings of sterling silver that used to whisper “you’re a grownup” are on the farm singing to the alfalfa, I can see lots of perfectly pleasant and responsible ways to be a grownup who owns very little.

How those options are described are critical. If I said, “Come with me to a tiny town in the remote wilderness where you can’t get a cell phone signal, you can’t drive your car, you won’t eat much meat, and you’ll have to share a bathroom,” you might politely refuse. But most people who come to Holden Village are too busy enjoying life in community to miss their car or cell phone.

Likewise, an invitation to downsize dressed up in “have to” language may not be appealing. How I wish we overfed, overweight, overscheduled, overconsuming Americans saw living with less not as deprivation but as freedom. Freedom to consider the question, how else might we live? What might we be able to feel, imagine, or experience if we were not so weighed down by our domiciles and possessions? How might we better love and serve one another?

If there’s a little voice in side you saying “this is too much,” pay attention. Nurture it. Consider it an invitation, and see where it takes you. And send me a postcard when you get there!

Anne Basye, Sustaining Simplicity: A Journal

Blueberries ripening in my front yard.

A few days ago I was standing in my kitchen looking for a snack. Having just gotten back from vacation, there were no fruits or vegetables to be found and I was craving their nutrition. My first reaction was disappointment and my second was the need to add my favorite fruits to the grocery list. Bummed, I found another snack and moved on.

About a half hour later I was reminded to check on the blueberry bushes outside to see whether or not the birds had gotten underneath the netting. Blueberry bushes!!! Just 20 feet from where I stood, craving fresh fruits, are two blueberry bushes full of wonderful, colorful, scrumptious fresh fruit. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. It gets better…

While I was outside checking on the blueberries I noticed that an apple had fallen from one of our apple trees. Although it is a bit early in their season I picked another low slung, reddening apple to check its tartness and enjoy a burst of homegrown fruit. As I picked the apple I realized that it had been awhile since I had pulled nutrition from the earth myself, and realized just how far I had gotten from my food. I had one of those “aha!” moments that happen from time to time as I ate the juicy apple and contemplated not having to go to the grocery store to buy fruit, but instead eating from the earth in my own front yard. Apple trees take time to prune, initial purchase money to buy, other necessary care depending on the year and often much of the low fruit is lost to the neighborhood deer, but I also had a sense of God providing as I picked that apple.

Never have I felt further away from my food than in that moment. The act of picking fruit, however, reminded me of how Creation works to nourish us if we respect and care for its processes.

~Lana Lile

Well readers, it took ten weeks, but on Monday of this week I had the overwhelming feeling that I’d reached the point of saturation – that state when no more can be absorbed, when one is full to the maximum possible extent and an increase will produce no further results.

A couple of images came to mind as I thought about how I was feeling: a sopping wet sponge sitting in a puddle of excess water, and a curious chemistry student standing over a glass of water, constantly stirring as she adds more sugar, only to watch it pile at the bottom of the glass because no more could be dissolved into the liquid.

I was full. Full of information, stories, statistics, thoughts, images, connections and questions. Ten and a half weeks ago I started interning at ELCA World Hunger and entered a time of intentionally and fervently raising my awareness of hunger and poverty by seeking out that information, those stories, statistics, thoughts, images, connections and questions. Then, on Monday afternoon as I sat looking at headlines and browsing blog posts, that feeling of saturation took over.

Nothing affected me. I could not process any new information. I longed to be in a large, empty white room or an open field, to listen to loud, numbing music, to run, or to dance. I needed a good wringing out.

I thought about my blog post for this week and my role in of adding to the noise, the chatter, and the endless sources of information. (I played with the idea of making this a very concise and simple post, but I will leave that for another time. Somehow I am loving the irony of working out my over-saturation through more and more words. Stick with me.)

Ultimately my saturation-induced paralysis and impassivity passed. A different image that came to my mind: the simple figure 1.02 billion. I focused on the single fact that 1.02 billion people are undernourished, and again felt like doing everything possible to learn more and to act against the overwhelming problem of hunger and poverty.

Again with the irony, somehow reading more also helped me wring myself out. I love what Allie said about hope in her blog yesterday. She writes, “I have gained knowledge of the realities of our world. Most importantly, as cheesy as it may sound, I have gained hope. I look back to the first week of the summer when I felt overwhelmed by the reality of hunger in the world and by the work done at ELCA World Hunger. Eleven weeks later, I am still amazed by the work that is being done and by the positive impact it is having, but I also have hope.”

So that’s what I leave you with today. In our often over-saturated lives, remember that 1.02 billion people are hungry, and that we have hope.

Julie