Photograph by George Sakkestad
West Valley third-grader Christina Fukumoto and second-grader Ally Bergman serve as recycling monitors during lunch time.
By PAM MARINO
"WHOA, WHOA! That goes into compost!"
There's a big thud as the large orange slices hit the bottom of the metal trash can. Despite the trash already in the can, Kristina Irwin reaches in--with bare hands--and pulls out the slices.
"These can go in the compost bucket," Irwin, a parent, says with a smile to the child who just dumped the uneaten slices.
It's a scenario that gets played out over and over again during the next several minutes of lunch time at West Valley Elementary School, where a relatively new--and successful--recycling program is under way.
Over a 12-week period--the last six weeks of the 1995-96 school year and the first six weeks of this year--the school has recycled or composted more than 1,000 pounds of material, and that, Irwin said, is a conservative estimate. "The kids are really starting to get the hang of this," she said.
Irwin and program founder Barbara Fukumoto, who is also a parent, devote countless hours to the program, doing everything from speaking to classes about recycling to getting down and dirty each day rinsing out plastic bottles, sorting through trash and tending to the four compost bins, donated by the city, in back of the school.
At the heart of the success is a highly organized routine developed during the last school year by Fukumoto and several students from Project Pride, the school's student-run volunteer organization, to snatch recyclable materials out of the waste before it heads off to the dump.
At three different stations on the playground, parents, student volunteers, and yard duty supervisors wearing plastic gloves (except Irwin, who says she'll have to wash her hands, anyway) stand at the ready by trash cans to remind kids to separate their lunch waste. A line of buckets behind the trash cans catches recyclables, such as plastic bottles with a No. 1 or No. 2 code on the bottom, aluminum trays and foil, paper lunch sacks, and uneaten, unwrapped food that is not greasy.
Afterwards, parents and students rinse trays and cans and store the separated items in a locked wire cage. Once a week Fukumoto or Irwin drives the collected items to local recycling centers. The compost buckets are dumped into the bins along with leaves, cuttings and grass clippings saved by the gardeners; finished compost is used on school grounds.
A unique part of the recycling program is that the volunteers save uneaten packaged food and whole fruits for distribution to parents and students after school. In fact, it was the previous waste of food that got the program started.
"I had been [on] yard duty and had seen all the good food being thrown away," Fukumoto said. After a couple of years of watching the food, aluminum trays, cans and other recyclables head into the trash, she said, "I just couldn't take it anymore."
Fukumoto's passion for the program has been infectious at the school, spreading to students, parents and staff. Recently, the program was made an official committee by the school's PTA and given a $400 budget. Fukumoto said the money will be used for books and other resources about recycling in the school library, and maybe to start a recycling club. What little money is collected from recycling is used for items such as plastic gloves; bins and other tools for the program come from donations.
The result of all this has been an increased awareness among students about recycling, which is the main goal of the program, according to Fukumoto. "They learn about the problems of solid waste in school. I think it's important they see they can also be a part of the solution. ... They need to learn the nitty-gritty of it now so they'll continue to do it as adults."
Back on the playground, fourth-grader Sarah Santos has got her hands in a bucket of water, rinsing cans and bottles and telling a visitor why she forgoes part of her playtime to help the recycling effort.
"In the year 3000, I don't want the Earth to be that wherever you walk, there's a dump."
This article appeared in the Sunnyvale Sun, October 30, 1996.
©1996 Metro Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.