I am now a Freegan. In answer to your second question (the first question was “Who Cares?”, right?), a Freegan is a “person who employs alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources. Freegans embrace community, generosity, social concern, freedom, cooperation, and sharing in opposition to a society based on materialism, moral apathy, competition, conformity, and greed" (quoted from Freegan.info). So, that means that as of this morning, I have changed my profligate ways. I'm a new and radicalized woman. I am a green goddess, an eco-princess, a humble servant to planet earth.
Why would a eBay-loving, omnivorous, cigarette-smoking shopaholic do something like that? Firstly: I'm trying to examine the phenomena of the Freegans from the inside out in order to explain it to NEWSWEEK readers and I have no problems playing the martyr for dramatic effect. Freeganism first popped up out West in cities like Seattle and Portland (of course) and has also become popular in larger cities back east like Washington, D.C., New York and London. Nobody knows for sure how many Freegans there are out there (counting is for capitalists, man). But, given the proliferation of Freegan Web sites and the popularity of the New York Dumpster-diving dinners, for example, there is evidence that their numbers are growing.
Did I not mention Dumpster diving earlier? Ah, well, it's actually called “waste reclamation” and it's a Freegan practice to boycott our capitalistic world by living off its shocking excesses. Seems crazy and gross doesn't it? (For the record, I personally won’t be Dumpster diving--not because I’m afraid to get my hands dirty but because it’s illegal in New York City and our legal department won't let me.)
Second: These environmentalists are not going away. They are going to nag us, scare us and tell us we're not cool until we change our gas-guzzling ways. So for the next 30 days, I, at least, won't be in their sights. Unless I screw up.
Third: the American way of life has to change if we want to do something about global warming. But, I don't want Al Gore, Leonardo DiCaprio or any of the snotty people in my very green and very self-righteous neighborhood (if you Google “Park Slope, Brooklyn” and “judgmental,” you'll get more than 40,000 hits) to tell me that's it's going to be easy. It's not. It's time-consuming, confusing and infuriating. I was doing fine, living my little piece of the American Dream, and now the inconvenient truth is that I feel bad about it. That would be the Freegans' fault, too (though I'd also like to spread some blame around to Al, Leonardo, PETA, Greenpeace and that "Supersize Me" guy).
I haven't been the same since I pitched this story. I see waste everywhere. I feel guilty about everything--doing my laundry, spending a day at the mall, leaving my computer on at night, relaxing in the shower, BUYING FOOD AT THE GROCERY STORE. How can absolutely everything I've been taught to do to survive be wrong? I'm going to try and figure it out. This experiment may be forcing me to give up "everything"; but it will also give me the opportunity to spend the next four weeks examining the impact of my previous way of life. Here are the rules I've set up (with the advice of my Freegan mentors Madeline Nelson and Adam Weissman, also known as my frentors):
1. I will spend as little as possible on food, and shell out for medical needs or in case of emergency.
2. I will be a vegan.
3. All my food will be organic (and local if at all possible) and only from local sources such as New York City's greenmarkets or the Park Slope Food Co-op. I will also investigate waste reclamation and wild foraging. (Gross maybe, but Americans waste more than 90 billion pounds of food a year, and that can feed a lot of starving activists.)
4. I will scrupulously recycle, reuse and compost. If I want something, I will barter for it or go to freecycle.org or try and find it in that house of horrors I call a storage space.
5. I will not throw away what I already have and buy "green" items. I will use what I have until it's gone.
6. I will aim to reduce my energy bill by 50 percent and be carbon neutral.
7. I will only use eco-friendly transportation (including the subway), but I will take a car if it is a matter of personal safety (such as late nights).
8. I will open a Freedom Savings Account where I will put the money I save. This money will, in time, give me the freedom to quit working if I want to. And when I get the Man's foot off my neck, I'm going to move upstate and read used books.
9. Most importantly, I will mindful of the impact of my actions on the earth.
I bet you're thinking; "Big deal, I could do that for one month." Maybe you could; but it's going to be hard for me. I like the convenience of modern life. I enjoy having the time to work and socialize and not spend hours making my lunch, composting, tending to my garden, planting trees so I stay carbon neutral, working at the Park Slop Food Co-op, foraging for greens in Prospect Park, digging through Dumpsters for dinner, avoiding cabs and begging off dinners out with my friends. I honestly can't think of a single reason why this experiment is a good idea. I want a Diet Coke. And, sometimes a 75-cent packet of Skittles is all that prevents a co-worker from getting slapped. So the planet is screwed up, we've eaten and used everything that moves or absorbs carbon to the point of extinction and soon we'll be buying waterfront property in Idaho. So what? We survived the plague, we'll get through this.
Even a poorly trained therapist should recognize this response as resistance. I just don't want to change. I want to blame the fact that I leave the bathroom light on all the time on bad environmental practices in China. Why do I have to recycle if Al Gore gets to take planes? And really, I live in a three-room palace in Brooklyn--shouldn't someone in a McMansion out in the burbs have to do this?
But I'm OK, and what's better is that I've reduced my impact overnight! I'm just experiencing a few first-day jitters. I do recognize that the melting of the polar ice caps would be bad. I do not deny global warming and accept that my actions and those of my ilk have contributed to that warming. I don't condone the idea of there being no more animals left outside of zoos and megafarms. And I certainly don't relish the idea of my future children living in a postapocalyptic world that looks like that bad Kevin Costner movie “Waterworld.” So rather then write a check to offset my bad behavior or lecture people on how they should change, I think I'll fix myself first and lecture the rest of y'all later. Though, I wish I'd ordered some red wine from Fresh Direct first.
Good News: Soy milk tastes good in coffee. My husband packed my lunch. I don't feel self-righteous or deprived. My mother is excited because she thinks I'll lose weight.
Bad News: I think the battery in my iPod is dying. My husband won't give up air conditioning. I'm scared I'll be reduced to eating ketchup sandwiches. My husband is concerned I'll lose too much weight.
Worries: The BFF's birthday is in two weeks, I'm not sure she's going to appreciate a handmade card and the gift of my time. Also, I seem to be conflating Freegans with hippies--maybe that's because I'm half-convinced I'm going to need illegal drugs to get through this.
Also, gentle readers, I need a ruling: Should I eat what's already in my cabinets even if it has cheese or gelatin in it? What about the meat in my freezer? And most importantly, can I eat the Creamsicles that are in there? E-mail me to let me know your thoughts on these questions and anything else about the Freegans or my 30-day adventure.
Thirty days to go. I'll be back tomorrow.
