Litter Ninja

Call to Action with Dancing Elephants Press

Since returning from our summer trip to Europe this year, we wanted to walk and use public transportation more. Being foodies, we also realized we could enjoy many croissants from cafes without gaining weight if we walked several miles a day. It is a huge plus in our book!

Not only is it better for the Earth to drive less and walk more, it is better for our health. Another beautiful benefit of our mission was picking up trash along our routes. We recycle and even reuse a few items.

Being kind to the planet can be as simple as changing your immediate environment. Think of small things you can do daily or weekly in your neighborhood, or on your route to work.

My husband tells his story of a particular weekend when picking up litter saved the day:

It was one of those days where nothing sounds like fun. My usual weekend morning routine was sparking no joy.

Some time back, I decided to walk more by avoiding driving on the weekends when possible. Instead, I started running weekend errands using walking and mass transit.

One of my most common errands was the local library. I would walk that route almost every weekend. I quickly noticed a lot of litter on this route and decided I would try to pick up some trash.

I soon added a long pair of tongs (picking up trash is much more doable when you know you do not have to touch anything) and a bucket (I later tricked it out with a harness to wear it on my back).

Once I started doing this, I often found interesting things on my litter route. It felt like if I walked this route enough times- I would eventually find everything you could imagine discarded on the side of the road.

It led to an Instagram page (litter.ninja, named because my kid thought I looked like some strange ninja with my hat, sunglasses, facemask, and sword-resembling tongs). Picking up litter on my library run became a fun start to the day.

Maybe it was the weather or general stresses and pressures of life, but a litter patrol did not sound fun. I forced myself to gather my library books, tongs, and bucket and headed to the train stop.

My day was worse than I thought. I needed a specific ingredient for a new recipe I wanted to try. The supermarket only had this ingredient in the bulk food section. As I opened the spout on the bulk container, a measly tablespoon of the lentils I needed trickled into the bag.

After asking several people to help and eventually finding the right person (people kept saying I needed to talk to someone in ‘ops’ for bulk food questions… ‘ops’ really? This is a grocery store, not the starship Enterprise), they told me there were no more red lentils in the store. After much coaxing of the lentil bin, I left the store with a measly bag of lentils and an even more glum attitude to the day.

When I returned to the train stop I noticed that this normally tidy and sparsely populated train station was fairly crowded. The stop had two benches and one was full but the other was completely empty. When I got closer I saw that the empty bench had a lot of litter on and around it.

Somehow a bag of bread and a strange bag of what I determined later to be BBQ parts had been left by the bench and people were avoiding the odd collection of items.

It was this moment that finally sparked something within me. I had my tongs and there was a bench that people wanted to use but the litter made it unusable….this was my moment.

I did a quick and very satisfying clean-up of the bench and then feeling like a superhero (truly a litter ninja) I jumped on the train and was off to my next stop.

Feeling re-engergized I picked up litter on my return walk from the library. Not only was this route noticeably cleaner after my previous runs, but a car honked and gave me a thumbs up for the first time (which made me feel very appreciated).

While waiting at the stop for my return train, a fellow traveler talked with me. He exclaimed what a great idea it was that I was picking up litter. They mentioned that they also use public transit a lot. Inspired to take action, they proclaimed their intent to buy some tongs to pick up trash!

I felt very inspired during my return train trip. When I went to my Instagram account to post the photos of my latest findings (the BBQ parts and an audio tape deck case among the items found) I had a new follower!

I should mention that I made and wore a t-shirt with ‘litter.ninja’ on it to see if people would see me and follow me on Instagram. It was the first time the T-shirt had worked! I remembered the new follower as someone sitting on the opposite end of the train!

After THIS new highlight of the day, I decided to go one step further. While commuting, I pass many bus stops, but this one always jumps out at me. It is a little stop (just a two-seat metal mesh ‘bench’ and the post with the bus stop sign) and does not rate a trash can. It is too bad because it seems pretty popular. I often see a handful of people waiting at this stop when I pass by.

I often felt bad because this stop had quite a bit of litter, and it seemed like it would be a bummer to start your day by having to wait for a bus standing in a pile of trash.

So I grabbed my tongs and bucket. We drove to the bus stop (or specifically to the strip mall across the street to park). From there, it was a short walk. Thanks to the tongs and extra large garbage bag my wife carried, it only took a few minutes to clean up the dozens of items (mostly discarded drink cups) that had accumulated for who knows how long.

Now, when I drive past that bus stop, I feel pride knowing my efforts help make sure those people do not have to stand in a bunch of litter.

A Loving Note From Trista Signe Ainsworth:

Dear Lovely Readers,

It is such a joy to share my husband’s story of the Litter Ninja with all of you. It is something he enjoys doing as a weekly act of kindness. I am able to join him on occasion and pick up some items as well.

I invite you to change your environment one walk at a time.

You can follow my husband’s weekly trash pick-up adventures on Instagram @litter.ninja

With love,

Trista