More (belated) Earth Day | Reuse your plastic spoon for as long as you can at Schema : more than ethnic

More (belated) Earth Day | Reuse your plastic spoon for as long as you can

Photos: Alden E. Habacon

Canada has a natural appeal. It's beautiful. There's no doubt that the natural environment is a big part of Canadian identity. It's by far the one thing that Canadians are the most proud of.

Rather than just celebrating the planet and thinking about how we can show it more love (because we really should be doing that all-year long), Earth Day is the perfect time to reflect on how the environment has shaped us as individuals.

If you grew up in Canada, it's a big part of your childhood.

I've been very fortunate to have spent many summers in campgrounds through Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta and British Columbia. I've played in the forests on the outskirts of Edmonton, plucked crayfish out of Wascana Lake and chased the northern lights on bikes through Regina. Before highschool I loved bugs and have had outrageous collections of earthworms, caterpillars and grasshoppers.

In grade school, in addition to watching Transformers and GI Joe, I never missed the Nature of Things. Sure, that made me a bit of a nerd, but I was a nature nerd. Before I was ever into media, culture and ideas of multiculturalism, I was into the environment.

As part of our Earth Day, my wife and I visited one of our most favorite spots, the beaches of Spanish Banks. We love beaches, especially ocean beaches, for all the obvious reasons.

There's something about the waves and the current that reminds you that to the ocean, you are microscopic, but you're still connected to the entire ocean. It's both humbling and profound.

Last summer I spent some time in the Philippines in a place called Bolinao. It's usually an assortment of incredibly beautiful beaches, but looked a bit like a warzone because of a once-in-a-lifetime typhoon/cyclone that hit a month earlier. There were no mangoes, as hundred year old mango groves were pulled right out of the ground. Palm trees looked barren.

BUT, the beaches were empty and on the sunny days (at 30+ degrees Celsius) we soaked it all in.

One of the stormier days, we went to Barangay beach, usually packed with locals and tourists. That day, there was barely any sun and the waves were too strong for my mom, but the solitude was quite wonderful. There was just enough force of nature to be exciting, but not enough to dissuade me from swimming.

While exploring the long empty beach, my moment was rudely interrupted by a plastic spoon tangled in the seaweed. My heart sank.

For whatever reason, over the past couple years I've been collecting (unrecyclable) plastic utensils from meals on planes. Perhaps to compensate for all the garbage I create when flying. I saw that plastic spoon on the beach and thought to myself, this is where they end up when I throw them out. Since that day, I have not thrown out a plastic spoon until they crack or snap. If I eat out, I take them home. I give my family a hard time when they lazily use them for birthdays.

I've replaced my bug collections with a growing set of usable plastic spoons, forks and knives. Including the biodegradable ones. All sizes and colours. My family looks at me funny when I pack them in my pocket. All because I can't get that image of the spoon on the beach out of my head. My greatest nightmare are beaches full of plastic spoons (see Kamilo Beach, Hawaii).

It's just a little thing. It may not even have that much impact. But we reuse them at picnics and meetings. I took a picture so I would never forget. I hope you'll think twice before you throw that plastic spoon, fork, spork or knife in the trash.

The amount of plastic in our oceans, and now our beaches, has reached critical levels. If my lone spoon on the beach hasn't moved you, see how plastic is destroying our beached in When The Mermaids Cry: The Great Plastic Tide, by Claire Le Guern Lytle on beachcare.org (2009).