Tis The Season To Go Shopping
By Chelle
Like ants crawling over each other, the cars have filled our freeways and the people have filled the aisles in nearly every store. The season of Christmas means getting out of your house, mingling with strangers, and frustrations mount as we search for the perfect gift to give the people we love. Every year I say, I’m going to do something for someone who really needs blessings. Every year, I give gifts to children I’ve never met, toys mostly; and every year I wonder if those children have clothes or food to eat. My heart is always heavy this time of the year. I just can’t help myself.
I began my shopping before Thanksgiving this year because I wanted to get my family out of the way first, take care of your own before you take care of others and all that. Through the process it became clear to me that what my children need is more discipline and happiness in their education. How can I make learning fun for them? How can our teachers do so when they have such restrictions placed on them by the testing standards? How would I wrap discipline and education in an attractive enough package that my sons would choose to open? It simply isn’t possible, besides, this time every year people tend to want what they desire and not what they need the most, so my idea of giving is out of the question, at least for my sons it is.
Reluctantly and with labor, I began looking for clothing that would support the image they wish to project to their peers. I found this cool jacket with flashy colors that my youngest son would like; bold colors for the bold. I noticed that it came from Japan. I put it back on the rack. An hour later, I hadn’t found one article of clothing made in America and went up to the cashier to inquire about American made articles. This young woman looked at me like I was nuts. I pretended to not notice her lack of understanding and asked, “Are you saying that you haven’t got anything made in America? This was a famous American chain of stores, part of our history, like turkeys and pumpkin pie.
Her response? “What difference does it make?”
“You ask that because you will always have something to sell, but Americans used to be employed making such goods.” Her eyes didn’t show interest in my politics because the fact was she did have a job in sales and yes she would always have something to sell. She wasn’t interested because she didn’t think it affected her.
As I continued my mission to find anything made in America, I remembered the Christmas I got my Schwinn bicycle. I had had my bike stolen two months earlier and Dad took me out to get a replacement. We went to a department store and there was a huge selection of bikes to choose from, but only a few were Schwinn or Columbia bikes. Why was that important? Dad told me that those were made in America. I looked over at all the pretty bikes with baskets and ribbons, flashy seats and pretty colors. I asked him where the others had been made. He told me they were made in Japan. He picked up a bike and I didn’t get my hope up because I knew something had made my father sad. I didn’t want to be a part of anything that caused Daddy to be unhappy. “Half the cost and cheaply made. It will fall apart but one day they will make better products that don’t.” He put the bike back and walked over to the Schwinn. He pulled out his wallet and said, “You’ll have to wait a little longer honey.” He sure looked sad.
“It’s okay Daddy. I can wait. Dad?” I asked him how come bikes from Japan were so much cheaper. He told me that they didn’t take care of their workers. He also told me that one day, because low cost items like these would be made so available, workers in America would lose their jobs. I remember how sad I felt, all those moms and dads, all those people without jobs. I worried about their children even back then. When that Christmas came and I got my Schwinn, I was so proud, proud of Daddy and proud of my new bike. I took care of it because I knew that some worker in America had a job. It was that simple to me even back then.
That was then; this is now and I’m a woman on a mission. For weeks I have gone to every store in our county that had goods my sons might be interested in. I held up articles and commented to those next to me who were also shopping, “Made in Taiwan. Made in Japan. Made in China.” I shook my head and said to any who would listen, “No wonder Americans have difficulty making a living. Does everyone sell insurance these days? Where did all the American made goods go to?” Then I found an article of clothing made in Guatemala. I don’t know what got into me, but I was so struck by the irony I felt the need to share it with everyone. The store was rather full and I couldn’t resist the urge to make a statement. “Look everyone,” I shouted with obvious joy. I waited till I had the attention of many. “This is the one thing I’ve found in a week that is made in America. Okay, so it is made in Guatemala, but that’s one of the Americas, right?” Some folks smiled but everyone went back to shopping. The lines at the checkouts were long. It was obvious to me that in our capitalist urges to have something for next to nothing, we had given our present and future to those working overseas.
I went to my closet and noticed that nearly everything I owned was made everywhere but in America. I began tossing out clothes I loved but felt I could do without. They are sitting bagged next to my door, ready to go to the needy. From now on, I’m going to purpose myself to buy only items made in America. If they cost me three times as much, I’ll do as Dad did, I’ll save for them. I don’t need two in every color. I can do without. I’ve found a few items in catalogs that are made here, but haven’t solved the problem of what to get my sons. Maybe I’ll buy them their driver’s training and call it quits. I can’t package that, but what am I supposed to do? I feel especially convicted and responsible for the loss of manufacturing jobs here at home. I wonder what happened to the philosophy of “Take care of your own before you try to help others”.
It is apparent to me that because foreign made goods are so available, we Americans think it is acceptable to allow those jobs to go to other countries while we suffer the losses here at home in the name of saving a buck. While the Christmas season is upon us, it is obvious; tis not the season to buy American. Maybe in a few years, we can turn that around and give ourselves the gift of a sound economy. Happy shopping folks.
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