Composting Food Waste Is an Act of Resistance
My grandmother taught me the power of sustainable living — even when it’s inconvenient
My grandmother, Florestine “Flo” Wallace, taught me how to repurpose anything. Even the little things. Those giant Country Crock butter tubs made perfect popcorn bowls. Planters peanut cans became used cooking oil containers and bulk jars that we’d fill, and refill, with treats from the local market. If we knew we couldn’t recycle or repurpose something, we didn’t bring it home. Flo was a conscious spender and consumer who made sure I knew and respected the value of every single thing I came in contact with. She taught me about the perils that come with wastefulness and the joy that comes with sustainable living.
We sourced all of our food from local farmers, markets, and orchards, and Flo would tell me stories about local supply chains and the hard work that went into every meal we ate. Every berry we picked to make pie had a story, and Flo made sure I knew that. Now, looking back on the roots of my commitment to environmental justice, I hear my grandmother’s voice singing “You Were Meant for Me” by Jewel as we made our weekly drive to the grocery store to do our recycling.
Even though I hold myself accountable for my actions that directly impact larger structures to the…
