By Neva Knott
When the recession hit in 2010, earlier even, for some, I thought to myself, this economic upheaval will bring people around. I thought our culture might come back to some core American values–neighborliness, thrift, value, home-made, waste-not-want-not. Can you tell I was raised by a father and grandparents who lived through the Great Depression?
I honestly thought the recession might bring America back to valuing people and places and interactive experiences over things.
Richard Telford wrote in his post, Lessons from My Father, earlier this week:
While my father’s early childhood years were lean ones—one meat meal per week, an adult border sleeping on a second bed jammed into his bedroom to supplement the family’s meager income, abrupt departures from one rented space to another in the worst times—my father often spoke of them as carefree days.
As I read Rich’s words, I was thought of using nature as an alternative to money-stuff. With the recession came money problems anew for many Americans, yet overspending is a cultural norm. I realize I rant often about rampant consumerism as an act of environmental degradation, but what I thought about in response to Rich is deeper, expansive, even.
I began to think of my own carefree days. My family lived on the shore of a lake when I was very young. In the evenings, we would climb into a small wooden row boat and my dad would row us around the lake at sunset. I learned of lily pads and lake weed and bull frog song. I felt the air cool and the lake water droplets on my skin. I was content and I imagine were my parents. I learned to fish off our little dock there. Every weekend, we’d camp, making our way around Washington state.
The author with her first catch.
When I was 12 and 13, I often babysat my cousin. There was a swamp in a small wood near our house. I’d take him there to “hunt alligators.” This was also the time of growing up when my sister and our neighborhood friends would stay out until just past dusk, playing badminton in the cul-de-sac. When we were bored, we were told to go find something to do. Translation: ride your bike, pull weeds, go outside and quit bothering your mother.
How much did my bike and a few badminton birdies cost in comparison to the digital pastimes children have today?
These memories are easy to find if you grew up in the 60s or 70s, and the Facebook memes float around to remind us. These were, as Rich quotes his father, “carefree days.”
Another blogger I admire, one who has made guest appearances here on The EE, Aleah Sato, wrote today on her blog, Jane Crow Journal:
When I was a girl, my family was too poor to own anything, but the countryside itself was ours, a place of unbridled adventure—
Experiencing nature feeds the soul and clears the mind. It makes us healthy. And, it can ease some of the economic burden of today’s prescribed lifestyle. None of us has to buy in… each of us can choose to step outside the economic frenzy of the mainstream American lifestyle by literally stepping outside.