This past weekend, I had the opportunity to once again participate in Truma’s Spring Clean-up. This is an event that is near and dear to my heart. I started at Truma in the Fall of 2021 and was asked to take ownership of the annual Earth Day celebration. It was one of the first times in my career I was asked to take the lead on anything, and I could tell the event was important to the company. So, in my usual type-A way, I took it very seriously. (Looking back at the meticulous spreadsheets of shifts, teams, and assigned cleaning areas… maybe a little too seriously.)
As it turned out, I was 9 months pregnant with my first child by the time my first Truma Earth Day event rolled around. I wasn’t able to participate as much as I would have liked, but I was able to manage the operation of the day. I ran around making sure everyone knew their assignments, reminded people to stay hydrated, and carpooled co-workers back and forth. My daughter was born 13 days later.
It’s almost impossible for me to think about the Annual Spring Clean-up and the planning that went into my first year without thinking of my daughter. It’s almost impossible for me to think about Earth Day without thinking about motherhood in general. “Mother Earth” is a common enough idiom that I’m probably not alone – but this year I feel it more acutely.
Maybe it’s because I have a toddler now, but when I think about the history of humankind and distill us down to our most basic impulses, it occurs to me that society is very similar to the personality of a toddler. Impulsive. Selfish. Hungry. Impatient. (Yes, I love my daughter, but a toddler can and will try anyone’s patience.)
Walk through your local park, and you’ll see what I mean. Cigarette butts on the ground two feet from a trash can. Broken trash bags full of garbage tossed into the woods. Water-logged shrink warp from a passing truck. Most of a shoe wedged under a log. We cleaned it all up, but when we come back next month or even next week, more will be in its place.
And in a way, that reminds me of my own living room. No matter how clean it is when we start the day, my daughter will pull out every toy she owns, get bored, and leave it on the floor. If she finishes eating a snack, she will just drop the rest on the ground. Maybe the dog will eat it, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for the dog. Think about it, how many must-have gadgets from bygone eras are sitting in landfills or discarded food items left on the side of the road?
I spend a lot of my time these days trying to cajole my daughter into putting her own toys away, or taking her fruit snack pouch to the trash when it’s empty. She’s getting better at it, but it takes time, practice, and constant reminders. And, of course, it takes patience, from both of us but mostly me.
I have a strong belief that Mother Earth feels the same way. She doesn’t mind when we play in the living room, she just wants us to leave it how we found it or even better than we found it. As a society, we’re slowly learning how to do that. Each new generation has a stronger grasp on conservation than the one before. My parents’ generation learned to recycle. Mine is learning about alternative fuels. Who knows what my daughter’s generation will come up with given the chance.
Saturday, I kept seeing reminders of a mother’s love. My coworker brought her son to help clean up the park – even though it was early, and it was cold, and it was a “work thing“ – because she wanted to spend time with him. She wanted to teach him to be part of a community and the value of volunteering. I saw a goose fight a hawk away from her nest. A duck refused to leave her one good egg while two others had been broken.
And in a thicket that looked to have been someone’s abandoned shelter, Mother Nature offered up a single morel mushroom (good as gold in the Midwest). Because toddlers – humankind – may be all of those things I said before, but they’re also: Curious. Creative. Adaptable. Awe-inspiring. And while some may leave their trash in the woods, I know of at least 25 others who are willing to spend their weekend cleaning it up.
