A Reflection on Beach Cleanups
Beach cleanups should feel Sisyphean. I’ve never attended a cleanup where I’m not able to fill multiple buckets of trash walking along a relatively short span of land, even at the biggest cleanups with hundreds of volunteers. The trash is always the same — Styrofoam cups, bottles of sunscreen, discarded food packaging, empty lighters. Sometimes there are needles only a few yards from where a family is picnicking.
After a much-needed rain, the waste is worse. The water washes trash in from the streets where it ends up stuck in the sand or lining the bike lanes near the ocean. You get an odd glimpse into people’s lives at a cleanup. Sometimes it’s clear there was a birthday party the night before, with forks and a party hat left behind. Other times the snack packages give an idea of the age of the beach-goers (are there fruit snacks or beef jerky packets?). But you also get a glimpse into how people treat the beach. Was a pile of trash left behind, only feet from a wastebasket? Was a child’s toy left behind? Was glitter or shredded paper left in the sand, surely too much of a hassle to pick up and left behind to become someone else’s problem?
Beach cleanups should feel Sisyphean. They are Sisyphean. But they don’t.
I was born and raised in Colorado and now live in Southern California. The beach is still a novelty to me and I’m always awestruck by the enormity of the ocean, whether I’m there for a sunset picnic or a morning run. Although the city is only a few blocks away, the beach feels quiet. You can smell the salt of the water and a gentle breeze is always floating over your skin. The sound of waves crashing into shore is reassuring and calming.
Even when I’m gingerly grabbing broken bottles or sifting through the sand for tiny pieces of Styrofoam, the backdrop of the water makes the angry emotions that eventually boil to the surface manageable. It’s almost like the beach is telling us that it will always take care of us, even when we don’t return the favor.
And then there are the people. Even when there’s no organized cleanup, you can always find people at the beach walking up and down grabbing the waste they see. At an organized one, it’s heartening to look up and see people ranging from elementary-aged children to the elderly working toward a common goal. And even those who aren’t participating will often offer a few words of encouragement or thanks. It’s a reminder that there’s a whole community of individuals willing to come together to maintain our public spaces.
I know when I head back to the beach this weekend that I’ll collect just as much trash as I did last week, and the week before. I also know that when I go I’ll enjoy the sun on my skin and the ocean breeze, and that I’ll probably make a new friend or two. I know that every piece of plastic I do collect is one that doesn’t end up in the ocean or in the stomach of wildlife. That’s a win in my book.
Activism can be exhausting. Beach cleanups remind me that it can also be rejuvenating and hopeful.
Interested in attending a cleanup? Check out your local Surfrider Foundation chapter for resources!
