Ozarks Going Green

People come to compacting from a diverse background and for a lot of reasons. Some are doing it for thrift or simplicity. For others, it is an act of protest against an out-of-control corporate machine. Another cornerstone to compacting is sustainability. Simply refusing to contribute to an unsustainable system is likely the primary motivation for most compacters.

When we moved from California to Springfield, Missouri, we hardly expected to find anything on the cutting edge of sustainability. In our blue-state arrogance, we thought the San Francisco Bay Area had a lock on such things. Matt O'Reilly, the owner of Dynamic Earth outdoor outfitters and developer of the Green Circle shopping center is proving us wrong.

Green Circle is shooting for a Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) Platinum rating. This platinum rating isn't easy to come by, and if he succeeds, O'Reilly's shopping center will be the first anywhere to get that rating.

The shopping center shares parking space with an area church, so no new land is paved for those parking slots. The roof collects and recycles rainwater, Skylights cut down on the need for interior lights, and at every turn, the consumption of resources is managed for the center and its tenants.

It will soon be the centerpiece of a surprising number of area green building innovators and innovations. Local startup company theworkshop 308 LLC is focused on green furniture and green building techniques. The Discovery Center, our local children's science museum, just got its LEED gold certification and local firm EWI plans to build a LEED certified headquarters. It has been a real surprise to us to find how widespread green building techniques have become here in the Ozarks.

Compact Action: In with the Old (part.2)

Cynthia let's me share with you our family's effort's to live without buying anything new as part of a group called "The Compact." In the face of ongoing revelations about the abject criminality of the current administration, it sometimes seems like wasted effort. What we get out of it is community, a divorce from advertising, and a heightened awareness of consumerism’s grasp. Along the way, we save a little carbon and a lot of sanity by making due instead of chasing new.

As a compacter, you spend a lot of time looking for things used. It doesn't add up to as much time as we shopped before, but the quest for used items requires effort. Bay Area flea markets provided most of the household goods we needed. As people discarded last year's model, we were right there to scoop it up. It has been hard replacing that resource.

It was a quirk I hadn't counted on. A flea market here in Missouri isn't the same as a flea market in California, or even my childhood home of Tennessee. Around here, the outdoor gathering of sellers I think of as a flea market is called a swap meet. The flea markets are antique malls where you can rent space by the booth. They are useful for a compacter, we got some shelves for our daughter's room at one, but not quite what I'm looking for.

It is a local linguistic quirk that changes right at the border apparently. In Collinsville, Il, just across from St. Louis, flea markets revert to what I'm used to. We haven't found a good one yet so we lean heavily on thrifts and garage sales.

One Missouri perk has been the trend of city-wide yard sales. From Neosho to Bolivar, you can find one every weekend in spring. This amounts to dozens of easy to find smaller sales and has been a great resource for kids clothes, tools, and household items.

Thrift stores have been a disappointment. In the high-living bay area, space and fashion meant the thrift stores were full of new and barely used items. Here, good old hillbilly thrift sees to it that items get used until they are threadbare.

Overall, this means we've had to adjust some of our buying. We remain largely on the path, blithely throwing out the circulars from Wal-Mart and Target unread. As I told a friend here, I don’t care how cheap the prices are, the cost is too high. Next week, we'll look at a major Missouri development toward sustainability that will soon be heard about nationwide.

Compact Action: Faint Blue Lights

Before I ever left California, I knew I would find allies in Springfield. Thanks to the Internet and the almighty power of Google, I moved knowing there were at least a few faint blue lights in this red-state landscape.

One of the first I found was The Radish, an anarchist infoshop. Infoshops act as a clearinghouse for activist information. Just seeing they had one in Springfield was a very good sign to me. Alas, they are homeless at the moment, but I am still networking with them.

Feel isolated and alone in your beliefs? Use the Internet to find a local branch of your community. I networked through Democratic Underground and The Compact before I ever left California.

Open Secrets is another amazing resource. You could find all the Nader, Gore or Kerry supporters in your zip code with a well-crafted search. I did.

Search out sympathetic businesses. I find like-minded souls at Mama Jean's, a popular health food store. They help me find organically grown and locally produced products.

Finally, you can grow your own allies.

That's the experiment I'm in now. Writing for the Springfield Business Journal, I've already gotten some Domestic Partnership coverage written. I tell everyone I meet about the Compact and find common ground in a determined Ozark resourcefulness.

Before long I expect to find others to join me along this path. Together we'll fan the flames of these ever brightening blue lights.

Compact Action: Feet Along the Path

I saw signs and portents all along the path from California. My thinking has been so changed by The Compact and my growing political awareness that almost every scene along the way holds a warning or lesson.

In California, we crossed ridge lines of wind turbines, now a decade old. You know, the kind of power we are told "isn't ready yet" by those with a stake in the status quo.

In Arizona, we saw the Homolovi ruins. An Anasazi people, the dwellers at Homolovi thought they had it all figured out, then their climate changed. Now their cities lie in dust.

A free limo whisked us from our hotel to the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, where we turned down the challenge of eating a 72 oz. steak in an hour. If the cult of over-consumption had holy places, this would be one.

Springfield felt frozen in time. The idea that the climate may be changing, oil may be running out, or what our culture of over consumption costs in terms of lives and pollution abroad simply doesn't occur to most of them. The faith in their leaders, mostly Republican, is absolute. The idea that corporations might not be in their best interest is mostly unheard of.

When I placed my feet along the path toward a political awareness of these issues, I found there was no turning back. We made a similar commitment in my family joined the Compact and when we came here.

How do you find allies? How do you change minds? How do you build awareness about so many issues from the erosion of our democracy to the power consolidation behind the politicians?

In two weeks, we'll look at a few of these new local allies and how to find them.

Compact Action: Red State Blues

I thought leaving California would mean leaving behind the overwhelming arrogance of place that spawned comments like "fly-over state" and horrified looks when I said I came from Tennessee. What I've discovered in Springfield, MO is an equal arrogance steeped in ignorance.

I expected to reign in my political voice a bit. I expected to go along to get along to some extent. What I didn't expect was the outspoken, fundamental belief in the superiority of racism, religion and over consumption.

The dental hygienist who congratulated me for getting out of California because it was "swarming with mexicans" comes to mind. So does the nurse who said I was "too stupid to save money" because I chose not to shop at WalMart. Yesterday, a fellow congratulated me for "getting out of that godless place" when I told him of my recent move. I thought he was joking. He wasn't.

It has been simply stunning. I've held my tongue to some degree. I usually lead by example, or try to anyhow. How do you argue with such forthright ignorance? I'll put the question to you, dear readers, for suggestions.

I've also found that such ignorant and bigoted statements are in the overwhelming minority here. Currently, in my unofficial and unscientific tabulation of right-wing vs. left-wing bumper stickers, lefties are ahead 31 to 22. There are a lot fewer "W" stickers here than when I visited three years ago.

Lefties here are quiet though. When I begin to discuss the current Attorney General, or the Iraq war, I find agreement coupled with a tentative look over the shoulder. When you are afraid to speak, there is a problem.

And finally, two organizations of would-be allies have gone under. The Radish, a local infoshop, and the Springfield Sudbury School both closed their doors in March. Two tiny blue lights went dark.

It feels something like the second installment of a movie trilogy, like Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, where everything comes crashing down and allies are thin on the ground. But hey, we are just setting things up for a triumphant final act.

I'm beginning to organize and I'm finding allies. Next week we'll talk about a few of those and how they are helping me adapt my California ways to the Show Me state. I'll find a niche here someplace between arrogance and ignorance and make my stand.

Compact Action: An Orgy of Waste

The move was turning into an orgy of waste. With too much stuff and too little space, the driveway began to fill with a mountain of our discarded things. As a member of The Compact , a group dedicated to voluntary simplicity and conservation, this was a mortal sin for me. It was also an ill omen.

We were moving to Missouri from California. If our personal stand against consumption was strange here in the San Francisco Bay, it was going to be downright alien in the Ozarks.

I began working the phones, and pretty soon friends and acquaintances began to arrive and the pile began to shrink. I swapped a few things for stuff we needed anyhow, like bungee cords, and I extracted a promise from neighbors to put the rest up on Craigslist for free.

We left town a little late, but with a clean conscience that our discards were destined for reuse not refuse.

That is the sort of everyday stand our family takes against this consumer culture. We hope that if enough people take small actions, we'll call them compact actions, the sum will be greater than the parts.

Over 2007, we'll be taking it to the heartland. In the reddest corner of Missouri, we'll see if it is possible to transplant or left-coast, blue-state ideas to a land of subdivisions and Walmarts.

Cynthia has invited us to share the story with you. We'll look at how our family takes things beyond recycling, what works, and what doesn't in our new home. Feel free to share your comments and experiences with me at sanfordclark@sbcglobal.net.