Anti-Materialism Campaign Gone Wrong

 

Several weeks ago now, I decided to protest our culture's focus on materialism by not spending money--or even going into a store--for two weeks.

This idea didn't come out of the blue, of course. When I was a student at BYU, I took a course on literary critical theory that was taught by a man who could only be described as a postmodern Marxist feminist. He was also very charismatic and thorough in his teaching--so much so that the students who left his class could only be described as junior postmodern Marxist feminists. I was no exception. I finished graduate school full of contempt for capitalism and anything remotely related.

Fast forward to . . . well, I won't say how many years later. I am married to a business owner (I have been known to argue, however, that Jason's company should be listed as a non-profit, charitable organization) and have three children who are OBSESSED with material things.




I worry about Ben and his desire to own anything he sees that carries the Star Wars logo,

 

Janae with all her glam,

 

and Alaina with her growing fascination with technology (do you know another one year old who lights up like this when she sees a BlackBerry?).

 

Sometimes I feel responsible for my children's lack of social moral consciousness, and thus my anti-materialism campaign was born.

So, I went grocery shopping and loaded up with what I considered more than enough necessities of life to last us two weeks, tucked away my bank card and credit cards, and planned to live a commerce-free existence for at least two weeks.

Then the next day Benjamin's school had a bookfair.

I happened to have $20 in my wallet, so I thought, "I'll just use this cash--I'm not technically breaking my vow, since I am not going into a store or using any cards."

The day after that, Benjamin complained that his shoes were hurting his toes. Desperate to prove that I was not some kind of crazed shopaholic who couldn't stay out of a store for more than a day, I tried to talk him into wearing the shoes for just a little longer . . . but when I felt his toes for myself I finally had to admit that we needed to buy some new ones ASAP.

It's a good thing I did, because his shoes were actually TWO sizes too small . . . but this meant he also needed indoor shoes, . . . and church shoes.

Yes, we went to every store in the mall and then the entire town, buying three pairs of shoes in one day.

If you want to tempt me to spend money, you know my two weaknesses: books and shoes . . . and children in pain (I guess that's three . . .).

Anyway, after that it was open season. We had to pick up birthday presents for parties, get new socks, sweaters and gloves to match new coats we had already bought, cash in on "one-day only" 40 percent off sales, stock up on Christmas presents to beat the rush, and you already know about my new library bag.



We have been caught in the net of materialism that has trapped the rest of the world.

And there are only 35 shopping days left until Christmas (just kidding--I made that number up!).

It's a good thing my kids still have a dad to teach them that the best things in life are the ones we can't buy with money ;)