I watched The Story of Stuff about 15 years ago.
Statistics and its American-centric point of view aside, this short 20-minute video struck me. Earth can no longer sustain humanity’s constant wanting, consuming, and delusional needing of stuff. Since this revelation, I avoided buying new clothes, furniture and materials in general. Instead, I lived on preloved items and resisted upgrades. I did my best to live as an unmaterial girl in a material world.
When the kids came along, I faltered. I was overwhelmed, yet seduced, by the amount of things that seemingly defined good parenthood – a BabyBjörn carrier, Bumbo seat, baby gym. I got most of them as hand-me-downs and gifts but still, the wanting of stuff and weighing it against what is necessary took up time and energy.
The children are now 12 and 10, and despite the relentless consumerist messages, the countless presents during their birthdays and festivals, they have not (yet, or ever I hope!) turned into wee “I want” children.
I suppose we have been successful so far in raising kids who are not materialistic because:
1. We decide what we value
At the dinner table, in between fart jokes and Minecraft battles, we often talk about events of the day, history, politics, and family news. When the conversation turns to material things, we discuss their functionality, value, durability, and environmental impact. The idea is, much like The Story of Stuff, to position the material thing in a system, and not itself as an end.
I suppose this disposition cascades to our everyday life. We don’t talk about other people’s new material acquisition or aggrandise brands. We discuss brands in the context of it creating desire by preying on insecurities.
Admittedly, there were flashes of self-doubt when I stepped out of my 10 year-old Kancil amidst the swath of SUVs driven by my peers. I wondered if I was “lesser”, or worse still, if my kids would be teased. However, I strengthen my resolve when I think about the life I want my children to have – one where they are free of the niggling self-doubt I experience, and to value human connections over consumption.
We try to model what we value through our actions as well. Family time together was never about mall trips, but rather picnics, building mini jetties and damps on streams and long walks. Hopefully, the kids will have memories of doing things together, rather than buying things together.
2. We consciously look for the why behind the want
The reality is that we cannot close the door to material things – so, we strive to be more conscious about why we want things.
We discuss our reasons for wanting an item – Do we want a new board game because everyone else has it? How could we get the experience of the game? Could we play it with a friend that has it? Can we borrow it? In these conversations, we find that movies are useful references. For example, we would ask why Carl (aka Bear in Middle School: The Worst Years of My Life), was so obsessed with his car? What was the car in The Mitchells vs. The Machines like?
However, with big ticket items, the wanting also comes with a lesson in value. We engineered it so the kids had to wait, plan and work towards it. When the eldest wanted a tablet, we supported him to develop a savings plan that included his pocket money and ang paus that were topped up with a 10% interest rate to achieve the final amount.
When he finally saved enough after a year, we looked for solutions to get what he wanted without creating more waste. We explained the concept of technological upgrades and its seduction, rationalised a second-hand unit after scrutiny of specifications, and shopped online together for it.
3. We take simple pleasure in the immaterial
Finally, the children are familiar with the mantra of the more stuff you own, the more your stuff owns you. I explain to them that the time we take to purchase, maintain, organise and subsequently bid farewell to an object could be freed up to do other things such as playing together, or going to the park. Instead of going shopping to buy a thing that we think we need, we brainstorm if could make do without, or repurpose another item. (Case in point: one kid punched holes in a drinks can for me to repot plants when I was contemplating getting pots!).
Children respond best to modelling and gentle prodding on the pleasures of the immaterial. Gift-giving takes on a more meaningful dimension as well. Take one Christmas, for example, where we baked and decorated cookies, filling them in old glass jars as gifts. Or the time when, at my husband’s suggestion, the children made me a book voucher of massages and breakfast in bed as my birthday present.
Reflecting on the meaning behind the giving of gifts has hopefully birthed a new tradition – one that takes time and energy away from consumption, and directs it instead to the other (more important) end of the spectrum: creation. In doing so, I can only hope that this paves the way towards an even greater gift for my kids: the freedom that comes from the daily reminder that who they are does not come from what they consume.
Inspired by this article? This Christmas, team makchic invites families to similarly reflect on the true meaning of gift-giving. Join us at RIUH x Selangkah’s upcoming Christmas Tropicola event at Sentul Depot on 4th and 5th December 2021, where we will be running a Toy Donation Drive in collaboration with Toy Libraries Malaysia.
For more information, check out our post on Instagram or read our earlier article for tips on how you can encourage your kids to give their toys away.
