Where Did the Silver in Those Bells Come From? Merry [Guilt-Free] Christmas!

 Today we are proud to present our first guest post from the ever talented Elizabeth Glass-Turner. When you finish here, check out her blog: thethreadbarecouch.com


By Elizabeth Glass-Turner

I suppose you’d say I was a conscientious child. Well, except for that regrettable incident in which I framed my brother so that I didn’t have to play outside anymore.

I believed rules were meant to be followed. I liked to check with authority figures about things. My sins (barring the aforementioned) tended to run along the lines of attitude or tone, not action. I never sneaked across fields in the middle of the night as the Respected Barkeep of this Establishment did. My transgressions involved avoiding a glance at the clock when reading in bed because I knew if I looked, it would be later than my bedtime, and I’d be responsible for knowing, and thus would have to put my book down and turn out the light.

Such was the extent of my BadAssery.

But, as Hermione relaxed and was “much nicer for it,” I grew out of my elementary
legalism and the internal guilt monitor that accompanied it.

Except…I can’t. I mean, I can, and all. But have you noticed how much guilt is out there? Oh, I don’t mean Catholic schoolteacher nuns who rap your knuckles til they bleed.

I mean, can you even shop for Christmas without glancing over your shoulder for the Consumer Police?

Silver bells? Where was that silver mined, I’d like to know! In terrible working conditions in a Third-World country?

Sugar plums? Better make sure they’re artisanal, organic and free-trade. None of these Big Business chemical-laden sweets for that picky recipient, thank you very much.

Chestnuts? Where do chestnuts come from? What’s the carbon footprint for shipping them across the country? Is that farm subsidized? Are laborers used on that farm? Are they compensated appropriately?

Don’t even consider “O Tannenbaum.” Plastic trees are manufactured in China, emitting staggering levels of pollution in a nation with terrible human rights, and live trees? Fageddaboudit. You may as well kick a puppy in the groin.

And what about the peppermint fudge you were going to give? Forget something? That person’s a vegan.

BOO-YAH. You can’t win.

Now, I have a confession to make. Every chance I get, I attempt to purchase things manufactured in places other than China. It’s a pet peeve of mine. Something about not wanting to support a corrupt system that enforces a barbaric one-child law, among other human rights abuses too numerous to mention. But looking at where things are made takes time, and turns shopping into rather a chore.

And that’s just one instance. Can you enter Bath & Body Works without worrying about the paraben levels in their products? Can you browse jewelry without wondering if that’s a blood ruby?

People say it’s the kind of knowledge you need, even if it’s uncomfortable. But between Today show segments on your kids’ sodium intake, magazine articles on going organic and websites dedicated to fighting human rights abuses around the world, no wonder the average consumer starts to go a little cross-eyed. Globalization has made us a nation of neurotic shoppers. What, we wonder, are the unintended consequences of our purchase?

Case in point: I take modern-day slavery pretty seriously. The other day, a very commendable faith-based nonprofit justice organization linked to a great website.

Great, if you didn’t grow up hyper-conscientious.

After taking a short survey in which I estimated a few key household goods, I was told that, plus or minus a few, I employ 49 slaves, worldwide – slaves defined as people who are coerced into work environments, forced to work without pay, or work with pay too little to live on even in their economic context.

“What’s the matter?” my husband asks a few minutes later. I explain we have what we have due to slave labor, thinking back to William Wilberforce and wondering whether he would have owned technological gadgets dependent on raw ore mined by slaves.

“Oh no…” said husband – not because of the whole slave thing, but because he Recognized The Signs.

A few months ago, during a panic attack (I get them occasionally), he had asked what was wrong.

“The Holocaust,” I said.

“What???”

“IsawthisspecialontvabouttheholocaustmonthsagoandtheytouredAuschwitzandtherewerepilesofJewsshoesandtherewasthislittleredpairofgirlsshoeswaaaaaaaah.”

Which is why John doesn’t like it when I watch too many documentaries or TV specials. Because six months later, they show up in panic attacks.

It’s a legitimate question, though – asking how shopping choices impact others: a question that is, however, a luxury – the poorest often can’t be picky about where something was made, or whether it was sprayed with chemicals, if it’s on sale.

And what kind of exercise would that be? To have to buy what a person with truly limited means could afford? It would mean more dollar store, less artisanal. It would mean more carbs, less lean protein. It would mean more cheap apples, fewer organic strawberries.

So what about you? Do you feel that making so-called ethical shopping decisions is part of the gift? Or does picturing eight year olds working on some part of your product sap the joy of choosing a gift?

I propose something this Christmas:

Be grateful for whatever you can purchase.

Be grateful that the shelves are filled with options, rather than worried that you’re choosing the wrong one.

Be grateful you can afford something at all.

Go without organic, or vegan, if it means you have more grocery money to share with the Salvation Army.

Buy something made in China if it means giving a gift in the Toys for Tots box at the store.

Have yourself a merry little guilt-free Christmas.

After all, who wants to miss the symbolism of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, because they’re too busy asking how they were mined or who processed them?

And remember not to look a gift horse in the mouth: no matter what your personal preferences are, be grateful for all gifts given in a spirit of generosity.

Let your guilt go up in smoke along with the logs in the fireplace. Guilt is the enemy of gratitude. No gift given sacrificially is small. And, dear friend, if your budget is as small as the proverbial church mouse’s, don’t give in to guilt that you cannot give largely. Give personally, give thoughtfully, even if it is a token or a handwritten letter.

This year, may your Christmas be guilt-free.

By Elizabeth Glass-Turner

http://www.thethreadbarecouch.com/