A Filmmaker’s Food Waste Story

  • Jeremy Seifert produced the Dive!, a film about food waste and how much of it is actually useful. (Photo courtesy of Dive! The Film)

A film about food waste is catching attention and awards at independent film festivals across the country.

The film’s called “Dive!,” and reviewers are shocked by the film’s statistics about how much edible food that grocery stores toss into dumpsters.
Shawn Allee reports the reviewers are also enthralled by the filmmaker’s personal story about diving after that food.

Transcript

A film about food waste is catching attention and awards at independent film festivals across the country.

The film’s called “Dive!,” and reviewers are shocked by the film’s statistics about how much edible food that grocery stores toss into dumpsters.

Shawn Allee reports the reviewers are also enthralled by the filmmaker’s personal story about diving after that food.

Jeremy Seifert didn’t start dumpster diving to make a film.

A few years ago, friends turned him onto it.
One morning, they surprised him with bags of food pulled from a dumpster.

“And so my entire kitchen floor was covered with meat and salads and I was filled with delight and wonder and I just said, “where do we begin?”

Seifert says he dumpster dived for kicks, but that changed.
Seifert is a filmmaker by trade, and he got a filming assignment at a refugee camp in Uganda.
The kids in the camp had hardly any food.

“They were truly hungry and suffering from hunger. And I came back home and two nights later, I was on my way to a dumpster pulling out a carload of food that had been thrown away. That experience filled me with such outrage, that I felt I needed to do something and my expression was to make a film.”

Seifert’s film picks up after his dumpster diving takes this kind of political turn.
It’s not for kicks anymore; he wants to show our food waste problem is so bad, that his family could practically live off food from grocery stores dumpsters.
He gets advice from experienced divers.

“Rule number one. Never take more than you need unless you find it a good home.”

But, Seifert runs into trouble with this rule.
He can’t let food go …

“I’m tired of it, there’s too much. I only took this much because there’s so much going to waste. It’s almost two in the morning, and I don’t have anywhere to put it, really.
I had to save as much of it as I could. In just a week of nightly diving, we had a year’s supply of meat.”

Guilt wasn’t his only problem.
His wife, Jen, explains a practical one.

“The dumpster stuff is really great. but because there’s such a large quantity of it, it can turn to a lot of work. So there’s like 12 packages of strawberries that I need to wash and freeze and cut. It’s not that big of a deal, but it’s just a lot more work than going to the grocery store and picking up just what you need.”

Seifert says the biggest problem with dumpster diving, was that it changed how he felt about food. One morning, he talked to his young son about it and kept the camera rolling …

“I don’t know if dumpster diving and eating food from the dumpster has made me value food more or value food less because it’s easier now to throw food away because we have so much of it. Part of me, I think I’m valuing food even less.”

“You can’t waste food, Dad.”

“I know, I don’t want to waste food. Do you want to waste food?”

“No.”

“I don’t want to waste food, either.”

Seifert tells me that this scene at the breakfast table haunted him, because maybe he was setting a bad example for his son.

“So it was a crisis moment in my food waste dumpster diving adventures. And so by the time the film was over, I was so tired of food and thinking about food.”

Well, Seifert’s had to keep thinking about food.

His film’s at festivals, and he helps activists get grocery stores to donate to food banks.
But things have changed at Seifert’s house.

He doesn’t dumpster dive so much – instead, he’s started a garden.
That way, his boy can really value what makes it to the dinner table.

For The Environment Report, I’m Shawn Allee.

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Getting People to Stop Burning Trash

  • Robert Olsen used to burn his trash. Now he drives his trash into town. (Photo by Todd Melby)

Getting rid of your trash in the city
is easy. Take it to the curb on pickup
day and the city does the rest. In rural
areas, many people don’t have garbage pickup.
So they burn their trash. And that causes
pollution. Todd Melby tells us about one
place that’s trying to change its burning
habits:

Transcript

Getting rid of your trash in the city is easy. Take it to the curb on pickup day and the city does the rest. In rural areas, many people don’t have garbage pickup. So they burn their trash. And that causes pollution. Todd Melby tells us about one place that’s trying to change its burning habits:


Robert Olsen lives out in the country. He used to burn his garbage. But not any more.


(Pickup hatch opens)


On this windy morning, Olsen has driven his pickup into town to dump his trash.


“I think this is probably a week’s worth for us.”


He grabs the blue plastic bin from the back of his pickup and dumps it into a green Dumpster.


“Not too difficult.”


Olsen runs the environmental office here in Lincoln County, Minnesota. It was his idea to set-up nine Dumpsters throughout this sparsely populated county. He did it because he knows that burning garbage pollutes.


“The issue is that when you burn garbage at home, in the country, the first people or persons who are going to experience any harmful effects from that garbage are going to be you.”


That’s because a lot of trash — including even plain old paper — contains chlorine that produce dioxins when burned at home. Plastic is even worse.


Mark Rust is a solid waste expert with the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency.


“If you’re using a burn barrel or fire pit or you’re burning garbage in any way on your own property, you’re creating a perfect factory for producing dioxins.”


Smoke from burn barrels and fire pits are now the leading source of dioxins in air pollution. Some studies have connected dioxins to cancer. Burning garbage is especially bad because there are no anti-pollution scrubbers on do-it-yourself burners.


“With a burn barrel, it’s all right there.”


Melby: “It all just goes right up into the air?”


“Into the air, into the soil. Ultimately, we’re going to be taking it in on the dinner table.”


Most states still allow people living in the country to burn their garbage. In Minnesota, only farmers and those without access to affordable garbage pickup can burn. A 2005 survey found that about half of the people living in rural Minnesota burn at least occasionally.


Which is why the state offered rural counties some start up money to get people to burn less.


Rural residents in Lincoln County, Minnesota have had access to drop-off sites for seven months now. When the program started, haulers took away about 8 tons of trash every month. Now it’s up to 15 tons.


Back at one of the county’s drop-off sites, Clarence Lietz is getting of his Buick and grabbing newspapers for the nearby recycling bin. What doesn’t get recycled, gets burned, he says.


“What garbage we have like small things for the yard we just burn right at home, you know. I’d say about a five-gallon pail full or something like that.”


Another elderly customer — she didn’t want her name used — says she burns junk mail and envelopes at home.


“Papers. That’s all you can burn. I don’t burn garbage.


Melby: “And why don’t ya?”


“It’s not right to burn garbage. It don’t burn any good anyway.”


Melby: “Why isn’t it right to burn it?”


“You know why, don’t cha?”


I do now.


For The Environment Report, I’m Todd Melby.

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Buddhist Dumpster Diving

  • The Buddhist dumpster divers hold up one of their finds. (Photo by Geoff Kroepel)

Every fall, a group of Buddhists go dumpster diving. They’re looking for things to sell at
their benefit yard sale. But sifting through the trash is also a way for these Buddhists to
practice their spiritual beliefs. Kyle Norris recently accompanied several Buddhists on a
dumpster diving excursion:

Transcript

Every fall, a group of Buddhists go dumpster diving. They’re looking for things to sell at
their benefit yard sale. But sifting through the trash is also a way for these Buddhists to
practice their spiritual beliefs. Kyle Norris recently accompanied several Buddhists on a
dumpster diving excursion:



Geoff Kroepel is standing inside a dark-green industrial dumpster. On top of a mound of
trash. He pulls out a Bible. And a set of matching placemats. And a tablecloth:


“…It’s a desk lamp…here are some ping-pong balls, ping pong anyone?”


Kroepel hands these things to Christian Hameman. Hameman showed up at the
temple today to volunteer a few hours of his time. He thought he’d be pulling weeds in
the garden. Instead the guy found himself inside a dumpster:


“Stuff I have at home isn’t as good as some of these things people are throwing in the
trash.”


You could hear the glass crunch when Geoff Kroepel jumped down from the dumpster.
The dumpster is located in a University of Michigan student neighborhood. The basic
drill is that the Buddhists take things from the trash. And then they clean and fix the
things for their annual yard sale. The stuff they find is really nice. We’re talking North
Face jackets and brand new coffee makers.


Before he leaves, Kroepel pulls out a stick of incense from a tiny container in his shirt.
And he lights it. Then he softly recites a few lines of dedication, makes a bow, and tucks
the incense into the corner of the dumpster, to give thanks:


“It’s kind of strange how there’s so much waste and even within the waste we get plenty,
we get all that we need and it’s good. So burning the incense is an offering to reminding
you that even in the waste, even in the trash there’s good stuff.”


Kroepel is a member of the Ann Arbor Zen Buddhist Temple. Haju Sunim is the temple’s
priest. She says dumpster diving is actually a modern day version of a Buddhist tradition.
In the time of the Buddha, monks and nuns would make their clothes from the scraps they
found on corpses, or from what they salvaged from garbage piles. Even today, some
modern-day Buddhists make and wear their own patched robes:


“In the whole tradition of the patched robe monk there is this whole thing about making
things last a long time-patching them, patching them, patching them. And taking care
with soap to make it last as long as can. Actually just taking care of a set of clothing to
make it last for long time has whole kind of spiritual aspect to it, if you do it!”



If you take care of your things instead of just throwing them out when they’re still usable.


Lenny Bass has organized the sale for the past twelve years. He’s memorized all the
major dumpster locations within several miles of campus. And he knows the best stuff
comes from the dumpsters surrounding the fraternities and sororities.


Bass says when he stands inside a dumpster overflowing with perfectly usable things, he
really understands what people mean when they talk about a consumer, throw-away
society.


Right now Bass is popping his head inside different dumpsters. To figure out if they’re
worth going through. He loves dumpster diving. But says it’s also challenging:


“I think when I was growing up I had this idea that people who jumped into garbage cans
and dumpsters had to be really in dire straits, really messed up people. Not much in that
one. That perception that I used to have flies against what I’m doing now. I have to
combat that perception of myself and know that other people have that perception of me
as well.”



Not everyone loves the dumpster divers. Sometimes people yell at them to get out of their
trash. Or they threaten to call the cops. But looking through the trash in this town is
perfectly legal.


Bass says when he was in college he was one of those kids who would chuck all of his
things in the trash at the end of the year. But he’s changed. He now thinks dumpster
diving actually has its own spiritual qualities:


“I don’t come home from dumpster diving feeling like oh my god, I’ve become
enlightened. I come home and I’m filthy, and it’s disgusting. And yet there’s some part of
it, that deeper part that has undergone just slightly more of a transformation about how I
see the world. And I think the more experiences you can have putting your self out there
in these situations the more you grow into a real person. Whether you want to call that
godly or whatever.”


About half of the things the temple sold this year came from private donations. The other
half, straight from the trash. They were things people thought had no value. The temple
raised 12,000 dollars this year from their sale.


For the Environment Report, I’m Kyle Norris.

Related Links

Dumpster Divers Find Their Gold

  • One man's junk could be another man's organic groceries or building material. (Photo by Andrew Purtell)

A group of activists has found a way to live almost entirely off the stuff other people throw away. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Amy Coombs finds one person’s trash is another’s ethical lifestyle:

Transcript

A group of activists has found a way to live almost entirely off the stuff other people throw away. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Amy Coombs finds, one person’s trash is another’s ethical lifestyle:


(Sound of dumpster opening and rummaging)


“Cheesy bread, it’s kind of nice heated up… Some people love this crap.”


Jean C. has been dumpster diving for eight years and no longer considers it a chore.


“Dumpster diving can be a spiritual endeavor if you happen to believe it’s a sin to throw away food.”


C. is an activist. She’s also an accountant and is by no means homeless. She says she dumpster dives for food, clothing, office supplies, and building materials because she can’t bring herself to support wasteful manufacturers.


“The point of the dumpster diving lifestyle is to reclaim the waste of consumerist society.”


After dumpster diving in four major metropolitan areas, C. says you would be amazed by how much perfectly good stuff society throws away. If you do your homework, she says you can find almost anything you want.


“We’ve found organic cherries and chocolate and organic tofu, organic tofu burgers, chocolate soymilk, once we even found a whole case of white wine.”


Probably not too surprisingly, health officials say the lifestyle raises some sanitation concerns. Jerry LeMoine is a Food Inspector at the Santa Cruz County, California Health Department. He says even if dumpster-divers go for high-quality organic foods, taking food from a dumpster is risky.


“Potentially any type of bacteria could grow in a dumpster. Flies can get into dumpsters, rats, other types rodents, disease vectors, so it’s just unknown as to what the conditions are there and conditions might change at any moment in a dumpster.”


Dumpster divers say they’re aware of the risks, but Jean C. says she exercises great discretion. She says wading knee deep through other people’s trash is no worse than grocery shopping, as long as you know what to look for.


“We never eat unsanitary or dirty food. We only take meats if they’re frozen or vacuum sealed. Once we found a whole dumpster full of smoked salmon that was not going to go bad for years – and that was good. Everybody ate it.”


Lee Turner,a long-time dumpster diver, says people throw things away because Americans are wasteful. Turner has spent the past thirty years troubleshooting ways to build gadgets from others’ trash. He’s even built a back woods cabin entirely from salvaged materials.


(Sound of crickets)


“Welcome to my home… This is the kitchen, spice rack, this is the food cabinet, got running water, there’s a rain barrel, see…”


(Sound of water)


Turner built his shack illegally in a public forest, but he says he’s always been careful not to hurt the surrounding environment. He considers dumpster-diving to be part of a larger love for Nature.


Turner says using material that’s headed for the landfill makes a lot more sense than buying wood and encouraging the lumber and timber industry to cut down more trees.


“Most of the materials are found materials. Some of the wood came out of dumpsters.”


Turner and C. have turned dumpster-diving into an organized effort. They target the highest quality products, they stake out factory dumpsters to learn when mislabeled items are routinely tossed, and look for store employees willing to leak information about the next scheduled inventory reduction. It’s a conspiracy to salvage.


“What happens in a dumpster-diving collective is that you need to get a small group of quiet people, hopefully, and have them take a large amount of food back to a central location, where you’re going to wash it and process it and redistribute it, so that everyone gets what they need.”


It’s impossible to know how many students, activists, and old nature lovers scour garbage cans, but dumpster-diving is becoming an increasingly popular sport. And despite the social inhibitions and threat of food contamination, activists such as Turner and C. say they won’t abandon their search for edible, usable and fixable refuse any time soon.


For the GLRC, I’m Amy Coombs.

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