I recently moved to Mvskoke Land—also known as Atlanta. It is often called the “city in the forest” and the “Black Mecca” of America. Both resonate deeply with who I am and my work. I love the climate. The humidity and flash thunderstorms feel almost Caribbean, even though Atlanta isn’t coastal. I adore the copious trees and spend as much time as I can walking, hiking, and being in nature. I’ve been to six nature preserves in or near the city and hiked over ten trails. There is always an open mic or dance party or museum to go to. The people here are varied and diverse. There is still a connection to land and agriculture, especially in the Black community—as not only part of our heritage but an offering for the future.
It feels like a natural home for the work my organization, bftn, is doing, especially since many of our member farmers are in the South. So, I moved down here with a few suitcases and faith… wanting to start from scratch, in a way, to create a home in alignment with my values. I knew this was an opportunity for me to put my carbon-limited interior design skills into play.
What do I mean by carbon-limited? Carbon emissions come from many sources, with mass production and global shipping—especially of products, clothes, and materials—among the largest contributors. Regenerative agriculture and ancestral farming techniques improve the sequestration of carbon through healthy soil, trees and grazing—that’s why looking to nature is an important climate change response. As a nomadic human that travels often, I try to limit my carbon emission in other ways. One being my long-standing boycott of Amazon and trying not to buy online.
I have been boycotting Amazon and their products for over 5 years now. This means I do not buy anything from Amazon, shop at Whole Foods, use Kindle, watch Amazon Prime, or use audible. Amazon also owns IMDb, Goodreads, and MGM Studios. I still occasionally read IMDb and Goodreads, and watch MGM films—but otherwise I do not support Amazon and do not want to increase Bezos’s hoarding of wealth. To some people this may seem very difficult, but now that I’ve been doing it for several years it is not actually a huge inconvenience. I mostly buy secondhand or thrifted, and I try to buy things locally or in regional stores when possible. This means I more often support the region that I am in and smaller businesses, in addition to reducing my carbon emissions. It turns out almost everything I need can be bought in person. Though, there are times when I make exceptions to buy things online. I would say that happens 1-3 times per year.
I’m not suggesting you or anyone else boycott Amazon. The scale of corporate ownership is vast and often invisibilized. For me, this is a small way I try to practice my values by investing in the people and places around me. Maybe you have your own version of this—a small step toward sustainability that feels manageable. Given these life choices, I knew I would be furnishing my empty apartment less quickly, more intentionally and with mostly second hand things. From my dishes to my couch, I have begun furnishing my Atlanta apartment completely from thrifting, yard / estate sales, Facebook Marketplace, and Buy Nothing groups.
a full length mirror i got from somone on Facebook Marketplace
With the exception of my sheets, towels, spices, and a few cooking utensils—most things in my apartment are second hand. My knife set? A gift from my friend Renee. Plates, bowls, cups, cutlery, pots, and pans? All thrifted or gifted. The pot set I got was second hand, but new. A recently married young couple received two pot sets as wedding gifts and decided to give one away. The vase holding a kale bouquet in front of me came from my local Buy Nothing group, where neighbors give things away freely. I’ve received and gifted through that group—including some linen pillowcases that didn’t fit my inserts. Many of the items I’ve thrifted or received I’ve upcycled. Not everything old or used is useless; sometimes it just needs attention and to be cleaned. I bought a lamp at a yard sale and was given a free side table that was a little beat up. It was sturdy metal, so I disassembled it, sanded and spray-painted it terracotta-orange—now it’s like new. Same with a scuffed frame from Goodwill.
A few of the things I made or had made for me by artisans. The coasters I use are made from polymer clay. Someone who came over described them as funny art pieces, which made me laugh, but their utilitarian purpose is to keep glass marks off of the iridescent table I thrifted and the side table I refurbished. I also have two small dishes I made in a ceramics class for jewelry and odds and ends. Most of the things I have in my apartment have come from less than a 10 mile radius of where I live; with the exceptions of what I brought with me from Brooklyn.
the coasters i made out of polymer clay
Even though I have driven many miles to get these items, it is still significantly more sustainable than buying everything new online. The added benefit is that I give things a longer life so they don’t end up in the landfill. I get to meet people and hear their stories of why they’re giving something away or how they got it. I can see the person who has used and loved the thing I will then be using and loving. I am making visible the relationships of how we get our things. Buying online often hides the human relationships behind the items we consume. To me, sustainability is about connecting directly with other humans, the environments that we are in, and trying to make choices that prioritize nature over convenience.
Yes—thrifting, buying locally, and DIY-ing takes time and energy. If you're a new parent or working multiple jobs, that might not be feasible. I recognize the privilege in being able to grab something off Facebook Marketplace or browse Goodwill for frames knowing I can take the time to refurbish them. This way of living is possible because of how I’ve structured my life, the access I have, and what I prioritize. You might prefer new things—and that’s okay too. This isn’t a prescription, just my current path. We are allowed and encouraged to make choices that make sense for us and our particular lifestyles, doing it the way I am is not a universal solution.
I believe making alternative choices can lead to alternative futures. Small ripples of change lay the groundwork for larger sustainable futures. And from my experience it gets less and less difficult over time—especially when it is done in community. I am grateful for the choices I’m able to make with how I consume, how much I consume and the materials I use / engage with.
This beautiful planet may seem infinite, but the resources we use on a daily basis are finite and take hundreds of thousands of years to regenerate. If humans are truly an ever-evolving species then evolution means prioritizing continuity—and continuity requires reciprocity, which is core to sustainable futures. Take less, give more. Consume less, collectively produce more. Reuse more, waste less. Take care of the soil, of yourself and of each other.