Some things require the grappling hook
This morning we got ourselves out of the house in time to join Oakland’s Trash Falcons on their weekly mission: picking up trash in the Adams Point neighborhood—in particular around (and in) Lake Merritt.
Grabbers, trash bags (held open by metal hoops, typically used in floral arranging), and gloves are made available to all. Everyone is asked to work for “at least 10 minutes”, but the main mission lasts for 90.
A rotating crew of Falcons shows up at 9 am each Sunday. There are regulars and often first-timers. The hosts maintain a low-key and inclusive vibe that is both child-friendly and neuro-friendly.
One 26yo Falcon I talked to today moved to Oakland (from Iowa) in August, and he has made the Sunday missions a fixture of his week. You can see him here reaching into the lake itself.
Over time the Falcons have added specialty gear for extracting unnatural objects from the lake: a “witch’s finger” (a wire hook at the end of a pole), a grappling hook, and a swimming pool skimmer. The hook is a huge hit with the kids. Everyone gets their turn, and every object removed is a cause for celebration. Today the hook snagged a surprise pair of sunglasses as the team worked to retrieve a plastic food container.
Earlier this year the Falcons hosted a “Trash Museum” gallery event featuring objects they’ve found on missions past.
Founder Richard Shirk started the weekly practice in 2020 as an antidote to the isolation of Covid, and today was the “280-somethingth mission”. The Falcons have been featured on local TV news and public radio.
Today Richard employed the grappling hook to fish a tire out of the lake. It is not the first they have retrieved. (Two years ago he estimated they had cumulatively picked up more than 11 tons of trash; by now it is likely more than 20.)
It is a small and simple mission, removing trash from the same stretch of blocks week after week. In some ways the practice is an extension of housework, but there are no detectable notes of resentment at the re-appearance of cigarette butts where one had picked them up only last week (and where they are likely to be found again). They are there to be picked up today.
And the gentle joy is infectious, from the shouted “ca-caws” to the delight at discovering a handmade necklace, or origami swan, or plastic toy from the 80s. The simplicity and consistency of the ritual become themselves reasons to return.
By staying close to home the work is not transforming the city. The practice was not built through organizing, or discussions about what would be the most effective work to focus on.
It is one @#$%ing thing, out of the house and in community with others. It is a simple act of care for a neighborhood, and for those who come each week seeking just a few moments of purpose and connection.
There is a lot to be learned here.
All the @#$%ing things
Night 25: Learned more about Pete Hegseth than I wanted to
Night 24: Canceled recurring subscriptions I no longer need
Night 23: Dwelt in gratitude
Night 22: Picked up pie from a favorite local business
Night 21: Downsized my clothes closet
Night 20: Increased my monthly contribution to the ACLU
Night 19: Deleted a blog from two decades ago
Night 18: Researched nonprofit board opportunities
Night 17: Contributed to Trans Lifeline
Night 16: Spent time together with loved ones
Night 15: Bought from a not-for-profit online store
Night 14: Refined an icon and wordmark
Night 13: Contributed to the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund
Night 12: Contributed to The Guardian
Night 11: Read, reflected, and rested
Night 10: Sent money to support vaccinations in Nigeria
Night 9: Sent money to a friend in need
Night 8: Gave gifts and spoke words of appreciation aloud
Night 7: Contributed to a California-focused nonprofit newsroom
Night 6: Made homemade donuts for my team
Night 5: Opted into a paid Buttondown tier
Night 4: Reviewed my local election results
Night 3: Deactivated my X account
Night 2: Contributed to my local nonprofit newsroom
Night 1: Started by starting
Words, sorts, thinks, and actions by Chris Ereneta, from Oakland, California. Thanks for reading! Thoughtful feedback and questions are welcomed at that.often@gmail.com