I didn’t expect a trash video to change how I saw the world, but it did.

It was late one night when I found myself watching a drone fly over a massive landfill. The camera hovered above rippling textures that looked like sand and sea. But as it zoomed in, the horrifying truth came into focus: I wasn’t looking at a shoreline. I was looking at an ocean of garbage: bottles, bags, broken toys, and forgotten electronics, all spread across the landscape like a man-made desert of waste. All just… there. Stuck in place. Not going anywhere.

That’s when it hit me: most of the things we throw away don’t actually go away.

They stay. Just not around us when we’ve decided we don’t want it anymore.

And when you really think about it, almost everything humans have ever made is still on this Earth.

The phone in your hand? Still here. The charger you lost two years ago? Still here. The fork from your lunch last week? Yep, probably still around. Maybe buried in a landfill or floating in the Pacific, but still very much a part of this planet. 

The Planet-Sized Closet We Never Clean Out

In 2020, a study came out that revealed something staggering: the total weight of human-made stuff officially outweighed all living things on Earth (Nature). That means that all the stuff we’ve built, phones, buildings, plastic packaging, cars, clothes, weighs more than every tree, animal, mushroom, fish, and human combined.

We’ve filled the Earth with so much stuff that nature is officially outnumbered, and every day we just keep adding more.

Yet we continue living under the illusion of “away.” Sometimes we believe we can toss something out and it’s gone forever. But that illusion is starting to crack.

The Problem with “Away”

Most of us don’t think twice about throwing things out. A candy wrapper here. An old notebook there. We toss it, and it disappears from our lives.

But it doesn’t disappear from the planet.

Some of our trash ends up buried in landfills. Some drift into rivers and oceans. Some get burned, releasing toxins into the air. And some just sit, slowly breaking down over centuries, if it breaks down at all.

For example, take the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a swirling, soupy mass of floating plastic in the middle of the ocean, estimated to be twice the size of Texas. It’s not an island you can stand on, but a dense current of debris, haunting in its scale and silent persistence. A monument to everything we’ve thrown “away.”

But that’s just the visible part. The problem runs deeper.

Much of the trash we throw out doesn’t just float. It lingers. A single plastic bottle can take 450 years to break down. A plastic bag? Up to 1,000 years. And even then, they don’t truly disappear. They just fragment into microplastics, tiny particles that find their way into our soil, our water, and even our bloodstreams.

Recycling helps, but it’s not a cure-all. According to the EPA, less than 10% of plastic waste in the U.S. is actually recycled. The rest? It ends up in that swirling soup or worse.

“I used to think recycling was enough,” said sophomore Alyssa Smith, “But then I learned how much of what we recycle doesn’t actually get recycled. That kind of broke my brain. Now I try to buy less in the first place.”

However, it’s not only trash on land and ocean we have to worry about. We’ve even managed to clutter outer space. Right now, there are over 25,000 pieces of space junk orbiting Earth—old satellites, bolts, and tools we’ve simply left behind.

What Hit Me the Most

I kept coming back to this one thought: trash is just stuff we’ve stopped caring about.

That hoodie you love? It’s valuable until it rips or goes out of style. Then, it’s trash. That shiny new phone? Great until it slows down or the next iPhone comes out, and then we toss it for a new one. But those objects didn’t vanish. They just moved… somewhere else.

Somewhere we don’t see or have to think about.

That disconnection is what hit me hardest. I used to order things online without thinking about where they came from. I’d throw things out without considering where they would go. But every object has a story. And it doesn’t end when it leaves our hands.

We’re surrounded by the leftovers of a culture built on convenience.

Luckily, We’re Not Helpless

The good news? We’re not stuck in this story. Not entirely.

Our generation gets it. I’ve seen many students carry reusable bottles, thrift their clothes, and fix what’s broken instead of replacing them. I’ve seen clubs organize cleanups and create art projects out of trash. We’re becoming more intentional, even if we don’t always realize it.

“I don’t think we need to be perfect,” said Michelle Sandoval (10), who’s passionate about reusing and sustainability. “But we do need to pay attention, because every choice we make adds up.”

• Say no to single-use plastics when you can.
• Use reusable bottles and utensils.
• Repair things instead of replacing them.
• Thrift instead of buying new.
• Buy in bulk to cut down on packaging.
• Ask yourself: “Do I really need this?”

Even businesses and scientists are starting to rethink how things are made. Some companies are designing biodegradable packaging that breaks down naturally. Others are creating systems where used products are repaired and reused instead of thrown out.

The goal? To stop pretending “away” exists. Because it doesn’t.

So… What Now?

I’m not saying we need to panic, but I do think we need to pause.

Before we buy, throw out, or scroll past, we should ask ourselves a simple question: “What story does this thing tell?”

If we’re going to be the generation that dreams big, innovates wildly, and builds the future, then let’s also be the generation that cleans up after itself. That builds smarter. That creates with intention and thinks about what we leave behind

Because the truth is:

We made it.

And now, we’re the ones who get to fix it.