Less stuff, more substance

I've always preferred to spend money on experiences rather than things. That's why, even though we've never found the funds to replace our 1979 Formica countertops or the lovely "harvest gold" range top of the same era, we shell out thousands of dollars on vacations whenever we possibly can. It's why I'm willing to spend three times as much on a nice dinner out than I would ever spend on, say, a sweater or a pair of shoes. And it's why, on a night I'm not needed at work, I'll forgo the pay to spend time with Jeff and Elijah instead.

I think about this often as I stand in our basement playroom, surveying the enormous pile of games and toys that Elijah has accumulated over his six years on the planet. Like any typical American kid, he has way more than he needs. But unlike typical kids, he never really has gotten excited about much of it. Part of that is related to his autism -- he's totally "out of the loop" when it comes to kid culture, and he has no idea what the hot toys are -- or even that there ARE hot toys. Not once has he ever requested a gift of any type, for Christmas or Hanukkah or his birthday (unless you count his lifelong obsession with basketball goals, which he now wants about 20 of). Not once has he begged for something he's seen advertised on TV. Not once has he walked up to a store shelf and asked me to buy one of the items for him.

I got to thinking about the absurdity of consumerism while I was buying supplies for his birthday party a few weeks back. After picking up some basic partyware, I was wandering the aisles, looking at the astounding array of cheaply made junk designed to be purchased as "party favors" to fill little gift bags for the young guests. You know the stuff I'm talking about -- little plastic toys and jewelry and such that seems to fall apart almost at once.

It occurred to me that this stuff, all from China, was no doubt manufactured in one of those industrial cities that belch filth into the sky day and night and coat everything they make with toxic paint. Then it was taken in big, gas-guzzling, carbon-monoxide-emitting trucks to the seaport, where it was shipped across the Pacific, only to be placed on yet another greenhouse-gas form of transportation until it reached the middle of the country, where it sat on a store shelf until some well-meaning mother paid a few cents for it in a party-supply store, and probably took it home in a plastic bag. From there, it goes into a gift bag for a child who plays with it a few minutes at most before losing interest (or seeing it fall apart). Shortly thereafter, it's added to an already overflowing landfill.

If it were only little things, perhaps it wouldn't bother me so much. But the sequence of events I've just described applies to a lot of things that take up much more space in those low-mpg trucks -- and eventually in landfills. I'm afraid it's going to apply, eventually, to many of the toys now filling our basement. You know, those toys that Elijah never had much interest in to begin with, for whatever developmental or personality-based reasons.

This isn't to say he doesn't appreciate his gifts. Some of them he has been fanatical about -- Tinkertoys from my dad a few years back come to mind. He spent months carrying around a set of dolls from "Toy Story" from my sister and her boyfriend. He absolutely loves a scooter we bought him with money from my mom, and many of his favorite books are from Jeff's parents. Currently, he's head-over-heels crazy about a computer program Jeff's sister gave him.

But this summer, as I've seen how much he's developed at summer camp, it's become very clear to me that what he needs is not something that comes in a box. (Yes, I know I'm starting to sound like Dr. Suess here; I won't launch into the moral of the Grinch story.) He needs experiences like the one he's getting at camp -- playing sports and learning teamwork and taking swimming lessons and going on field trips and so on. Those summer months can be a developmental death trap for kids with autism, who need structured settings all year round, not just during the school months.

Problem is, summer camp is expensive, even for typical kids. For kids with autism, where a much higher adult-child ratio is necessary, they're even more expensive.

That's why, from now on, we're asking everyone in the family (but thank you to those who are not in the family, for reading this blog anyway! All 10 or 15 of you!) to no longer buy Elijah gifts for Hanukkah and Christmas and his birthday. Trust us, he already has plenty! And we'll make sure he has a few modest presents (from us) to unwrap on those days.

Instead, please consider making a donation toward summer camp, in whatever amount you would have spent on a gift. We're setting up a bank account next week that we intend to use ONLY for summer camp, so we're getting a good start on next year. In addition to a hefty "seed money" contribution of our own, we're using some money my mom left us for gift-buying purposes, as well as a check that Jeff's parents sent for the same purpose (yes, we had intended to get him a small trampoline and probably still will, but we're much more excited about the camp fund!)

My hope is that a few small donations from family throughout the year, along with larger donations by us, will cover most of the cost of camp each summer. At this age, he's just going to a day camp (and a wonderful one it is!), but as he gets older, I hope to give him the experience of a real, in-the-woods sleep-away camp. There is just such a place not far from here, with a session each summer devoted to kids on the autism spectrum. It has all the traditional summer camp experiences: Swimming, fishing, horseback riding, hiking, sports, arts, campfires and s'mores! It's in very high demand and draws applicants from several states, so there's no guarantee we'll get in, but we're sure going to try. I'm even hoping to be involved as a volunteer -- although I must admit I probably wouldn't if they didn't have air-conditioned cabins!

So, if you are on that list of people who always feel obliged (and stumped) when it comes to gift-giving for Elijah, be stumped no more! Help us put a stop to materialism before it even starts for Elijah. Help us make his life more about substance and less about stuff.

Thank you!!!!!