CJ, Hans, Caroline, Mike and I marched across the pedestrian bridge, trash bags in tow, and were greeted by several friendly bikers and runners who noticed our strange getup. One vocal biker thanked us personally for cleaning up the park, even before our trash bags had been opened. This small indication of her appreciation motivated me to start tracking how much trash we collected, if only to prove to myself that her thanks was deserved.
As we picked our way through the riparian zone beneath the exit of the bridge, I began to realize why the biker became so enthusiastic upon seeing us. Among the first few items I collected were an empty blister pack of prescription pills, a 2-liter brown glass bottle, a clown-sized shoe insert, and lots and lots of cigarette butts. The amount of trash I would usually oversee or ignore compiled in my 1st trash bag and weighed about ten pounds by the time we were half-way through our work. Caroline remarked that our service would last beyond that day because people are more likely to litter when there is already a large amount of trash in a certain area. After seeing the fruits of our labor, I wishfully agree. At one rocky area in the river, which Mike named “Butt Island,” I collected 209 cigarette butts. The five of us spent about 45 minutes in that 100 sq. foot area picking up cigarette butts alone. By the time we finished, the rocks were free of trash, and the whole area seemed much cleaner.
The simple act of picking up a minute, brown paper roll makes an incredible impact on the way others see nature—both by observing your action, and the effects of it. The power of communication of an environmental leader is best embodied in this type of work because it forces everyone, both the actors and the observers, to acknowledge the issue. Through this type of activism, awareness is raised and behavior, even the simple thanks of a stranger, is changed for the better.
Imagine how this man’s song would change from before to after our clean up!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xug5cYDJVq4