Sunday Night with Crotchless Pants

You probably aren't wondering what the 2016 communnity did last night, but this is my blog and that's what I want to write about, so I'm telling you anyways.

There is a room on the second floor of our house that has served as the dumping ground for unwanted clothing. For the past 5 years outgoing JVs have left behind shoes, socks, shirts, and pants that they didn't want to bring back to the States. The idea behind leaving things instead of throwing them out is that perhaps future JVs may want those items. It sounds like a reasonable idea. It sounds like a good way to cut down on waste. It sounds like a thoughtful thing to do.

But it isn't.

The thing about being thoughtful is you can't half-ass it. For example: It would be very thoughtful to take my friend out for dinner on his birthday. But if my friend is a vegan, taking him to Shake Shack isn't actually all that thoughtful. My intent is good, but my delivery is lacking. My heart's in it, but my head isn't.

You have to whole-ass being thoughtful. I have to think through that the concept of Shake Shack is contrary to everything my vegan friend believes in regarding food. Outgoing JVs should think through the consequences of leaving lots of outfits behind. Here's some of the issues we encountered going through those clothes last night:

1. Not everyone wears the same size. A good pair of jeans is only useful if it fits you well. Otherwise it's useless. It seems silly to leave some clothes on the off chance someone with your seam waist, hip, and inseam measurements is going to move into the same house you once lived it.
2. Donations are done until they are donated. The fallback idea for the clothes in this room was that if no JV wanted them, they could always be donated. Imagine if I had a bunch of clothes I didn't want. I dump them off at your house saying "if you want anything take it, then donate the rest." I'll leave your house feeling good about myself. I gave stuff to my friend and I made sure stuff would be donated to other people who need it. You watch me walk out your door feeling confused. Why are you now responsible for my unwanted things? Why do you have to go through the work of sorting through my stuff in order donate it properly? In reality, all I've done in that situation is cleaned out my own space by pushing my crap onto someone else. It's kind of like the pink ring in The Cat in the Hat Comes Back
3. So many crotchless pants. How it was possible to wear out the crotches of so many pairs of pants is an interesting question, but it's not the one I want to address. Here's my question: Who thinks that anyone would want pants with more patches on the croth than there are pockets? That's thoughlessness on a new level. No one wants your old crotchless pants. Period. Got it?

It's a bit of a tradition in the Mountain House for outgoing JVs to leave crap behind. One of the most memorable thoughtless gifts received from outgoing volutneers in the last two years was a used razor. It's a tradition that I want no part of. That's why one of my goals for this year is "Don't leave crap behind for the 2017 community." Because intentional community doesn't mean leaving my mess for other people to clean up, even if they aren't people I'll be living with.* 

This is my public promise to Lauren, Rachel, and the 2 JVs who will move in and replace Erin and me: I will not leave anything in the house that you don't specifically ask for. I will take charge of properly donating any clothes I don't want to take back to the States. And for goodness sake I promise not to leave you any crotchless pants. 

*BTW, this is basically a microcosm of the global issues that lead to global warming. Past generations have left messes that the current generation has to deal with.