BY ALEX LEADER-SMITH

In print | October 21, 2004

There I was, poised to take part in a tactical strike of epic magnitude. For years I’d tolerated the public’s wasteful, profligate consumption, but now I was their friend no longer. Those glass-trashing, dryer-using, energy-guzzling heretics were going down. An elite band of highly-trained operatives had been assembled for this purpose, and today I was among them. Their name: Earthlust. Their mission: to reduce energy use on campus. Their latest blitzkrieg undertaking: Operation Storm the Dorms. This was truly embedded journalism at its finest.

Unfortunately, academic circumstances made a timely arrival to the pre-operation debriefing impossible, though I dared not make excuses to Earthlust commanders Kristy Simmons ’07 and E.B. Fouts ’07. Thankfully, they pardoned my delinquency, and for good reason — judging by the ragtag group around me, these ladies needed all the help they could get! The dozen or so troops had no uniforms, no camouflage, not even any all-natural non-chemically-based war paint! Crazy, I thought; how better to appreciate the Earth than to blend into it?

For the moment, though, I kept my concerns to myself. Jim Kreft ’06 was designated my comrade-in-arms, and I quietly took a seat next to him as our leaders divvied up supplies. There were informational handouts to circulate, Earthlust thermoses to sell, and checklists for recording environmental transgressions in sordid detail. Lastly, there were Teddy Grahams to give to those kind enough to take our survey. Jim and I immediately called dibs on the blue chocolate chip box. In war, it always helps to be prepared, and chocolate chip Teddy Grahams are the ultimate provision.

As Jim and I headed off to storm Willets, he filled me in on the operation’s details. Our job was to knock on the doors of all Willets freshmen, ask them a series of questions about their energy use, then distribute information and crunchy, chocolaty bears as needed. Thermoses would be offered to particularly interested parties. Interestingly, I noted no coercion, intimidation or forcible deployment of solar-powered recycling bins anywhere on our agenda. Our plan of action seemed quite peaceful. Perhaps I’d misjudged this group.

We began on First South. Trusting in his experience, I let Jim do the questioning, while I played the role of thermos-laden packhorse. As expected, he did an excellent job uncovering our first freshman’s recycling habits. When it came time to push the thermos, though, I saw him start to falter. I leaped in at once. “It’s a great mug!” I proclaimed. “I have one myself, and I use it all the time! It’s perfect for coffee.” She bought the story hook, line and sinker. Awesome. Five George Washingtons for old Mother Earth and one less thermos for me to carry. Truly a win-win all around.

Continuing through the halls, we completed many surveys, though sales were slow. Meanwhile, Jim was becoming disillusioned. Every unanswered knock was met with a “Score!” or “Excellent!” from my senior partner, as he strove to finish the door-to-door as quickly as possible. It was almost as if conserving Jim’s energy was Earthlust’s newest priority! Eventually we switched roles, which went well, except for a couple instances like the following.

Me: Do you have fluorescent or incandescent lights?
Freshman: What’s the difference?
Me: Fluorescent are the ones that are … you know … fluorescent … and incandescent are the other ones.
Freshman: Um ….
Jim: Incandescent lights are hot when you touch them.
Freshman: (who does not habitually grope burning light bulbs) Um …
Jim: (peering in) They’re incandescent.
Me: Right. Of course. Obviously.

Despite such obstacles, we finished our task on time and gathered useful information to boot. Returning to headquarters, we swapped war stories with other teams, and I was amazed and pleasantly surprised by the fun, relaxed attitude the Earthlusters took to their cause. I’d feared Earthlust would be a group of in-your-face environmentalists, a fearsome cross between Captain Planet and Mr. T. In reality, they wanted only to be respectful surveyors, well-meaning advisors, friendly salespeople, and generous donors of food. All in all, I’m not sure I could join Earthlust - I do have that academic commitment - but I’d be happy to dormstorm with them anytime. And next time I’ll know to leave the battle gear at home.

Alex is a junior. You can reach him at aleader1@swarthmore.edu.

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