Self-doubt presses against my throat as I turn the computer screen, displaying my Google Slide presentation, toward my skeptical, but amused, family members–grandpa, grandma, mom, and dad. Skeptical because they have decided my recycling efforts are frivolous; after all, they are South Korean immigrants constantly struggling to put food on the table. Their busy schedules relegate climate change to a luxurious concern. Amused because they love me down to their bones; they have jeong–a Korean word for deep emotional bond reserved for friends and family–for me, as I have for them. And I have tremendous respect for their immigrant perspective on pragmatism and frugality. Their mantra is to upcycle and repair, rather than buy. Old clothes become puppets and kitchen rags. Food containers are cleaned out to become vases and pencil holders. Cardboard boxes become playhouses and gardening beds. They unknowingly have given birth to a spirit of conservation in me, which, to their chagrin, now leads to this presentation.
I click on my title slide “Why We Should Recycle More” as I remember why this conversation is important. It’s for Earth, who has lovingly raised me with all the senses. A scene of towering red cedar trees next to a frigid, still lake welcomes us to Big Bear many summers. At Santa Monica
Beach, I feel the warm, soft, doughy sand caress my toes. I taste the air that smells so salty. Our town’s Botanical Garden boasts roses whose silky, yellow petals whisper melodies that can lift the world’s weight off my shoulders for a divine split second. I observe that its leaf’s intricate veins mirror my own blood vessels. And when I fall off my bike during a single-track run, the Anza-Borrego Desert shrubs give me a prickly, chastising hug. California fondly interconnects my past with nature.
Before I speak, I take a deep breath. Breathe. It has been something I couldn’t do so freely at times due to California’s droughts and wildfires, made annual by climate change. During the Station Fire [1], I remember how the sharp tang of smoke stung my nose and how the frightening, cackling flames burned my eyes. And as an asthmatic, declining air quality and fires have forced me to trade in my cherished mountain bike for the indoor wrestling mat. Even indoors, I depend on air purifiers to filter out the remaining outdoor air, lest it strangles my lungs into tight wheezes.
Unexpectedly, nature’s rich diversity has offered me healing through Han-yak, traditional Korean medicine. Unlike Western medicine, which often relies on synthetic drugs, Han-yak harmonizes the body’s energy with the elements of earth, fire, water, metal, and wood. Astoundingly, it uses more than 600 different herbs and roots, each species blessed with unique biochemical properties that, once lost, cannot be replaced [2, 3]. Instead of using finely-tuned chemicals to treat individual symptoms, Han-yak treats the human body and nature as interconnected systems, as though the vasculature of xylem and phloem continue into my own veins and arteries.
True to his jeong for me, grandpa has brewed a special mixture of Zizyphi fructus, chrysanthemum, Ginkgo biloba, and ginseng root to help my asthma. This daily, dark, bitter
blend, with its heavy terrestrial aroma, is known for its anti-inflammatory properties. Grandpa explains that it quiets the bul (fire) energy in my body. This complements the quick relief provided by my chemical-based albuterol inhaler, which targets the airway’s smooth muscles. Both Han-yak and Western medicine have unfurled the poisoned strand around my chest, now able to freely expand with air. My improving health and ever-maturing insight into my heritage depend not only on scientific medical knowledge but also on nature’s generous pharmacopeia.
I nervously move on to the slide featuring the importance of not contaminating our Blue Recycle Bin by separating food-stained cardboard from the clean ones. On average, twenty-five percent of all recycled materials are contaminated with unrecyclables like food and liquids; consequently, the whole batch will end up in the methane-producing landfill countering the original well-intentioned purpose of recycling [4]. It is like getting four bags of groceries and bringing them home only to dump one bag into the toilet, an analogy I knew would speak to my frugal family.
I see my mom move forward a bit in her chair with distracted eyes that display a million thoughts swirling behind it, similar to when she is multitasking being on the phone, washing dishes, and watching “The Voice” at the same time. She says, “Awww, Matthew. That is a noble thing, but we won’t make much a dent by doing this.” I explain that is precisely why we do it–to be part of Climate Action, which is a collective term for any measure aimed at reducing global climate change [5]. As part of the world Climate Action team, we will make a huge impact, one small recyclable at a time: we can reduce emissions by around 6 gigatons of carbon dioxide by the year 2050 [6]. This puts a powerful leash on global warming and improves air quality. It also means being part of long term policy change such as with the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals and the Paris Agreement, which guides the world in building future climate resilience [7].
I ask climatically, “United freakin’ Nations, mom. Doesn’t that fill your eyes with stars?”
I wince as my grandpa expectedly interrupts with, “This would be a waste of my time; I’m too busy to do that.” Grandpa grew up during the Korean War and survived only through stark practicality and sheer toughness. He once told me a boyhood story when his backyard was the vast Samak-san mountains. Exhausted after battling a river’s current and miles from home, he was close to starving when he found a yasaengkong plant (wild legume) to voraciously consume. He felt as if nature, through this edible plant, had extended jeong, as if the plant were his own mother.
With much love and respect, I respond that proper recycling not only honors the original tree but also preserves nature’s biodiversity. I ask him to please imagine a world where he cannot find that yasaengkong plant or where I cannot benefit from ginseng. Need evidence? There is already an alarming reduction of ocotillo plants in Anza Borrego Desert State Park in Southern California due to drier, hotter air [8]. The beloved ginseng in Korea is also facing a 65% chance of extinction due to climate change and overharvesting [9]. There is a 25% reduction in the Giant Sequoia due to uncontrolled and frequent bul [10]. I ask, “Grandpa, where is Nature’s ‘Han-yak’ to save it from wheezing and suffocating?”
Moreover, nature’s richness provides more than food and medicine; it gives us jeong and allows us to share jeong with others. How can we not broaden our affection to include the Samak-san mountain, Big Bear, and the deserts? We must also realize that we are not the generous ones integrating nature into our tribe, but rather that it is nature that is adopting us into its tribe.
I conclude the presentation with a final revelation, “You think that I am presenting to the four of you, but there is actually a fifth person sitting at the table. That person is Nature itself, who loves us like family.”
I gently close the computer. The room is silent except for the hum of the air purifier. There is an electricity of contemplation and a slight nod of understanding. Perhaps, in sharing my jeong for the earth, I’ve sparked a view that nature is a living, breathing, and multifaceted companion intricately linked to us, and that we must use our equally complex bodies, cities, and cultures to protect it. Nature is sitting next to us, hands folded, waiting for our next move.
References:
1) Cardine, S., & Nguyen, A. (2019, August 22). 10 years on, the station fire remains burned into the minds of locals and fire officials. Los Angeles Times.
https://www.latimes.com/socal/la-canada-valley-sun/news/story/2019-08-21/10-years-on-station fire-still-burned-into-minds-of-locals-fire-officials
2) Villines, Z. (2022, June 29). What is hanyak? Korean herbal and folk medicine. Medical News Today. https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/hanyak#uses
3) Bradley, H. (2023, June 26). Traditional korean medicine: Hanyak, Sasang, and medicinal herbs. The Soul of Seoul. https://thesoulofseoul.net/traditional-korean-medicine-hanyak-sasang/
4) Rachelson, D. (2023, February 6). 14 recycling contamination facts that will blow your mind. Rubicon. https://www.rubicon.com/blog/recycling-contamination-facts/
5) Climate action. Close the Gap Foundation. (n.d.).
https://www.closethegapfoundation.org/glossary/climate-action
6) Robinson, C., & Huun, K. (2023, December 15). The impact of recycling on climate change. Environmental Center.
https://www.colorado.edu/ecenter/2023/12/15/impact-recycling-climate-change
7) United Nations. (n.d.). Climate action – united nations sustainable development. United Nations. https://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/climate-action/
8) Joel, L. V. W. (2021, June 21). Landsat shows plant die-offs in Southern California driven by climate change. NASA.
https://landsat.gsfc.nasa.gov/article/landsat-shows-plant-die-offs-in-southern-california-driven-by -climate-change/
9) Souther, S., & McGraw, J. B. (2014). Synergistic effects of climate change and harvest on extinction risk of American ginseng. Ecological Applications, 24(6), 1463–1477. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24432217
10) Sommer, L. (2024, February 26). Wildfires are killing California’s ancient giants. Can seedlings save the species? Opb.
https://www.opb.org/article/2024/02/26/wildfires-are-killing-california-s-ancient-giants-can-seedli ngs-save-the-species/
The views and opinions expressed are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect nor represent the Earth Chronicles and its editorial board.
