Re-Ordering Christmas

(Originally published in the Juneau Empire, November L'attitude)

I love the early fall mists of Juneau. The low clouds with wisps, fogs and sprays. Red berries, crisp air, Taku winds, and sea foam. And, of course, catalogs. Ahhhh, the fall-colored leaves of the catalogs.

As an inclusive life-long Alaskan, I’m both indulgent of Cheechako naiveté and respectful of tall Sourdough tales. But if you remember what it was like to browse the 3-inch depth of a Sears catalog every year – to dog-ear it, mark it up, flip between sections, wistfully create alternate childhood realities with it (where I would wear summer dresses and my family actually owned a sprinkler) – then you’re my kind of Alaskan, no matter where you grew up.

Now, to date myself more accurately, my parents could no longer order an actual home through Sears in the 70’s – but, boy howdy, they could fill every room, closet, cupboard, drawer, toy box, patio, landscape, nook, and cranny if they wanted to. Sears and JC Pennies were my early teachers of Consumerism 101. And since my parents only bought what they could pay for (that’s right! Imagine a time without credit cards…) we didn’t yet consider it Over-Consumption 101. But the scene was set.

Humans like to have stuff… we’re bowerbirds beautifying our nests to impress potential mates. Magpies who can’t ignore that next bright, shiny object. And it makes some sense, evolutionarily. The more stuff you have, the more chance you can provide for a family, make it through winter, attract a partner, etc. But that drive evolved when our “stuff” included a few furs, some sharp tools, and enough sticks for a hut. Translate that into a 60” flat screen TV, $150 cross trainers, and a Cuisinart and it begins to feel funny.

At least it does if you’re among the 87% of people surveyed by PolicyInteractive.org who feel “our country would be a better place if we all consumed less.” The Center for American Progress puts this number at a lower 80%, but that’s still nothing to sneeze at. I heard these statistics presented by PolicyInteractive’s, Tom Bowerman. The importance of these numbers is that it didn’t matter if the respondents were liberal or conservative, religious or non, rich, middle class or poor. The feeling that America would be better off if we all stopped buying so much stuff transcends ideology.

Of course what people mean by “consumption,” and their reasons for reducing it, are different. One person is reducing their use of petroleum to mitigate global climate change. Another person spends less because a culture of debt weakens our economy’s foundation. And still another feels that reducing the amount of “stuff” in our lives will increase the quality of time spent with our families. I agree with all of these outlooks and see how a focus on reducing consumption can cross some otherwise deep divides.

And I love that. Who cares why we’re doing it! If there’s one solution for all these different problems, let’s just do it!

But wait. We also hear that if we stop buying, we’ll kill the American economy and eliminate desperately needed jobs. Is it a solution if it creates other problems? No. But, I’ve got to tell you, this time I’m going with my gut. If I stop buying throw-away schlock, and instead spend that money on my child’s piano lessons, insulation for my house, or locally caught salmon, I just can’t believe I’m being un-American. Living surrounded by things I don’t need is not likely creating jobs that offer a living wage. It’s more likely creating jobs in countries where no one monitors the working conditions or the health of children and families. So, for the past several years I’ve led family campaigns to be more conscious of what we buy and whether we really need it.

Fortunately for me, my parents pretty exclusively kept our buying season to Christmas – a once a year wallow in oodles of stuff. I’m grateful to not also have to break the birthday, back-to-school, got a raise, good grades, vacation, that’s pretty and would look good with those shoes, “TGIF” sprees. Reducing consumption at the holidays is where I can really make a difference in my family.

As a result, I have a new hair-brained gift plan every Christmas. From “buy nothing new” to “shop only within walking distance from home,” these plans have helped us be more conscious about what we’re buying and not give in to impulse buying, and kept us out of Christmas debt for the past several years.

These campaigns are tough love in my dependence on catalogs, but much needed. In fact, two years ago I enrolled in CatalogChoice.com and managed to get off dozens of mailing lists. Last year we only received five catalogs and they were like candy. I dog-eared, my daughter circled, my husband purloined them for enjoying with his morning coffee, my baby son got his first taste, too. Literally. But we were strong. We played for a while in the alternate reality of a wealthy family living in a world of unlimited global resources. Then happily decided to cozy in to our own reality where just enough, and no more, is plenty.

Sarah Lewis is a local architect and freelance writer who’s day of ultimate Christmas success came when her pre-teen daughter proclaimed that her favorite gift ever was a share in a Heifer International water buffalo bought by her grandmother 3 years before…  not the iTouch her sucker parents got her that year.

Be a Person, not a Consumer.

It’s no accident that in the 1950’s Americans suddenly became “consumers.” The national economy needed a boost after the war so the government and companies needed people to buy, buy, buy. So they designed “planned obsolescence” (short lived products with no means of repair) and “perceived obsolescence” (when wearing last year’s fashions marks you as a loser). These two concepts are so pervasive in our country that we’ve collectively accepted that we are consumers. Time to be a person again, in 5 easy steps:

1.      Stop watching ads on TV. You know perfectly well that this is how companies convince you to buy new stuff you don’t need. But they know us better than we do sometimes, and get to us. Especially our kids.

2.      Reduce time the TV is on. Plug it into an outlet timer that’s hard to get to. Seriously. Turn on music if you need background noise.

3.      Turn off the TV and get control of your entertainment. Get your TV series on Netflix, rent movies, only watch shows that stream online to your computer or TV monitor. Cut TV ads out of your life.

4.      Become a conscious consumer. Make a point of stopping to think before you buy. Whether you’re doing it to save money, reduce dusting, or to see your kids again.

5.      Make a plan for the holidays and stick to it. Here are some ideas:

§         Buy Nothing New: try Craigslist, Yahoo groups JuneauParents and Juneau Freecycle, the Sally Army, St. Vincent’s, Mommy and Me, and Alaska Dames & Gents.

§         Cash Only: There’s something visceral about handing over cash instead of plastic.

§         Homemade Holiday: For the diehard. Require everyone in the family to make things for each other. Food counts!

§         Handmade Holiday: For the not-so-crafty, buy things made by other hands. Try the Juneau Public Market and Homespun Mercantile in the Airport Mall. You can also try the list under “buy nothing new.” My very favorite sweater was hand-knit, and purchased at the Salvation Army.

§         One Big Gift: One for the whole family, like a trip (maybe one you were planning to take anyways? Just put a bow in it), or one for each member. Ask each person for their “top three” list (give a cost limit if needed), and buy one thing for each.

§         Gifts of Time: Cleaning, cooking, movie nights, date nights, story time, whatever might be valued in a busy household (hint, hint, SMB). Be thoughtful and creative.