My 'Green' Life
Car-Park Ban
When I was about ten years old, my primary school called us all into the sports hall for an impromptu assembly. We were all curious as to what to expect. We muttered amongst ourselves, as children do, excited at the possibility of a snow day in the middle of April, perhaps a last minute school trip. Our headteacher, an older man with an upturned nose, proudly announced that our school would be participating in a ‘car-park ban’ as a way of encouraging students and their parents to take a greener approach to their travels to school by getting the bus, cycling or walking. As we filed out of the hall, my classmates grumbled unhappily. This ‘green approach’ meant they’d have to get up earlier, or would have to ask their parents for bus money. My cheeks burnt red. I had walked to school every day of my life, forty minutes there and back.
Walking was never
The ‘greenest’ choice that I had
But the only choice
Christmas
“Oh, I could never be vegetarian over Christmas,” a girl in my class sighed, “I get that it’s like, an ethical choice or whatever, but I couldn’t give up my mum’s turkey!” She laughed, all teeth and desperate for the approval of her peers. At age fifteen she is certain that she is right. Another girl nodded, eager to show her agreement. She joins in, “Exactly! Like, imagine Christmas without the stuffing. Or the pigs in blanket! Ugh, that would be absolute torture,” the table of girls all crow in understanding. I rolled my eyes, but my insides twisted at the thought of another nut roast. I tried to focus on the task my teacher had set us but the feeling stayed. They would never understand.
Torture is watching
Your little sisters cry when
Santa doesn’t come
Beer Bottle Brown
On my first day of college I was, understandably, rather nervous. As I progressed through the school system I had always been lucky to move to a new school with a sizeable handful of pre-existing friendships. But, I was the only person I knew of planning to attend a college out of county. My mum, understanding my concerns, pressed a ten pound note into my hand, “Buy something nice to wear on the first day,” She smiled thinly, but we both know that as soon as I reached the shops, there would be something else we needed more than a new shirt for my wardrobe. I resigned myself to charity shopping. The banners told me the sweater I bought there would help to save lives, and I wondered why my mum’s ever increasing tax wasn’t doing that already. I wore it on the first day. It was beer bottle brown.
“Vintage!” the girl said
As she felt the worn old wool
“So much greener, right?”
by Charlie Halfhide
About The Green Line
The Green Line is part of a third year collaborative project exploring our personal connection with the ongoing climate crisis. Over the next month we will be publishing a variety of pieces from the student community.
Find out more about The Green Line here.
Read entries: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and Seven here.