A Beyonce-Style Upgrade for Sustainability
Written by Katy Osborn
I pick up an orange Gatorade plastic cap off the sidewalk. I see potential in this little bit of trash and Beyonce rings in my head.
I can UP,
Can I UP?
Lett me UPgrade you.
Queen Bey is a master at spinning heart-ache, struggle, and triumph into lyrical gems and golden beats. She views difficult experiences as magical opportunities to collaborate and create gyration-inducing art for others to enjoy and connect with.
We need to apply Beyonce’s melodic biddidi boddidi boo to the hard-to-deal-with stuff in our lives. How do we translate the hidden possibilities of unwanted items into opportunities to re-imagine, co-create and level up our relationship with consumed goods?
For many, many decades, the sustainability ditty has been jammin’ to the Reduce, Reuse, Recycle refrain. The environmental movement’s one-hit wonder. Like 90s pop music, the Three R’s are catchy as hell, nostalgic, foundational, yet shallow and overplayed. Even Beyonce adhered to the reliable pop formula to launch her career with Destiny’s Child. Yet, intuitively, Beyonce understood the world wasn’t ready for her full glory back then. So, she’s patiently released her greatness over time as our culture has evolved to receive it. Sadly, our society is not adapting to the progressive environmental sound at the same rate.
Personally, I bopped to the Reduce beat for many years. This sacrifice-to-survive theme was powerful at first. Use less water, refuse fossil fuels, cut out Amazon, buy plastic-free, buy nothing. Breaking up with materialism felt virtuous and admirable at first. I was Bey, Kelly, and Michelle crawling through the sand on a remote island.
I did (still do) feel stronger, richer, and wiser from that separation, but over time I started feeling more stressed and less chillin’. Living “without” requires additional time, sustained energy and steadfast attention. Anti-consumption can be exhausting. By perpetually sacrificing on behalf of the greater good, I was personally experiencing less comfort, less convenience, less joy.
Why am I playing the martyr while everyone around me gets to enjoy easy-breezy, carefree consumption? My obsession with abstention was like standing stoically still in the corner of a nightclub while Groove Is in the Heart pumps over the speakers. I became resentful of the chorus of people around me who were all freely getting jiggy wit it.
But I also couldn't simply fall back into conformity. I knew too much about the methodical patterns that had lulled us all into bouncing to a mass-market beat. Yet, I didn’t want to miss out on bonding with others over a shared experience and building community over common interests. I needed to find a balance between my new relationship stuff and my desired relationship with people.
Consumers seek out positive emotions, which means adopting a new, “better” behavior is more compelling than abstaining. It’s helpful that circular fashion, fair trade, organic, renewable energy and shopping local have grown in popularity. Vintage is actually en vogue, which I love. Because more consumers are demanding “sustainable” and “ethical” products, these alternatives have become more accessible and, in turn, have increased public acceptance. A virtuous cycle that allows me to more easily find common ground and connect with others.
We are still Dangerously in Love with stuff though. Too often, the “sustainable” alternatives actually create new, often unforeseen issues. Plus, many profit-focused brands need us to remain hypnotized by their convenient, cheap, fast, mass-produced, trendy vibes for their own survival. So, they maintain demand by delivering sustainability claims that are misleading or even manipulative to appease consumers (also known as “greenwashing”). This builds skepticism among the public.
There’s a new eco-era emerging. One that values astute artistry and intentional creation.
Our current Climate Action playlist consists of:
Recycle* : downgrade material using a source of energy to remanufacture it into something else (ex: salsa jar melted down and mixed with virgin glass to become a new jar)
Reuse [and Repair] : extend the life of something without changing the form or value (ex: fill salsa jar with spices at bulk store)
Reduce : avoid consuming something (ex: make salsa from scratch)
Responsible : made more sustainable and more ethical (ex: salsa made from local, organic tomatoes)
The latest hit we all should add to our eco-Spotify:
Upcycle : a modern twist on an old classic... reimagine and repurpose something old or used while increasing the value of the material in its new form (ex: macrame around the salsa jar for a succulent planter)
I get a jolt of joy when I’m transforming one thing into another. It taps into my crafty side and my desire to be productive. Plus, it’s way more fun to talk about with others, especially fellow upcyclers. I can inspire others to re-evaluate their own stuff in the process.
Anyone can upcycle thanks to Youtube and Pinterest. That said, upgrading trash into a finished one-of-a-kind good requires vision, skill, patience, commitment and creativity. So, if making is not your jam, luckily, there are many creative, visionary makers who are dedicated to using reclaimed materials.
What makes upcycling so groovy:
The origins of the materials are local and accessible. They are probably in your house right now.
You know who is involved with making the goods and if they are paid fair wages. (You can pay yourself with a pat on the back. Or support a skilled maker.)
No fuel-powered energy, earthly resources, nor transportation were used to create the material and little to no fuel-powered energy was used to transform the material.
The finished good - and you - have a story to tell.
I’m hopeful for the day when we live in a world where we only produce the most necessary goods from scratch because we are reusing what we have, recirculating what we no longer need, and upcycling what is no longer loved. That, my friends, will be our Renaissance moment.
* A vast majority of the stuff put in recycling bins never gets recycled. Where I live in Chicago, only less than 10% of materials in the blue bins are actually recycled.