Monday

Shades of Green




By James Fuller

Kay McKeen, Greg Stolzer and Heather Goudreau are the new cool kids in town.

They've lived by a set of principles for years, which only recently became in vogue. But on Tuesday, many of their friends and neighbors will change their lives to be just like them, even if only for a day.

McKeen and company are environmentalists of varying degrees. On Earth Day, and every day, they'll abound with life-altering tips to help casual recyclers and the "ultragreen" alike. All the tips are actions they already do in their everyday lives.

Ultragreen

Think you're already a hardcore greenie? Then match your compost heap against the likes of Kay McKeen.

McKeen was a greenie before green became the new black. Tips from the other greenies are measures McKeen took a long time ago. The canvas bags she takes to the grocery story are 18 years old.

McKeen has infused the mantra of reduce, reuse, recycle into her daily life so extensively that she only takes actual garbage to her curb about once every five weeks. That's less than a dozen trash pick-ups a year at the McKeen house in Wheaton.

"Reduction is really key," she says. "That's how I started."

She has no plastic containers in her house. There are only glass jars. The jars once contained mayonnaise and pickles. Now they contain leftovers and homemade salsa. Not only can McKeen reheat the food right in the glass jars with no chemicals leaching in, but she can store the food with no odors leaching out.

Plastic bread bags also get reused.

"Think before you buy," McKeen said. "Ask yourself what are you going to be able to do with this."

There are no disposable razors or shaving creams in McKeen's house. Only straight razors and shaving soaps (no can).

And just about everything that doesn't get eaten or reused gets recycled, loaded into her Toyota Prius Hybrid and donated to someone else, or composted.

Letting nature take its course is McKeen's action plan outside. She doesn't rake away her leaves and bag them up. Instead, she uses them to create natural fertilizer.

"Think about it," McKeen said. "Nobody rakes up a forest. Leaves fall. Apples fall. Branches fall. When you rake it up, you've just taken away the nutrients from the soil and a protective layer for tree roots. Bacteria can still do what it's done for billions of years. That's a pretty good track record."

McKeen may be the extreme example of living green, but anything that benefits the environment is a step in the right direction. There are plenty of small and simple changes anyone can make at any time, starting at home.

'Green house' effect

Living in a "green house" does not require dirt floors and stone walls, local environmental stewards say.

However, when it comes time to replace a roof because of leaks, or a rug because a pet has left his mark more than once, there are better options than asphalt shingles and Afghan.

Annemarie Rexroad chose steel roofing and bamboo flooring for her Wheaton home when it was time to make some changes.

Rexroad's new roof is made of recycled steel that should last for more than 100 years, and be cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter.

The steel shingles are laid with a space beneath and insulation to prevent that "pinging" sound rainfall would otherwise create. Unlike asphalt, which won't stick well in the cold, steel roofs can be put on during the winter, usually at a discounted price, Rexroad said.

"The cool part is that snow will melt in sheets," Rexroad said. "There are safety guards to prevent an avalanche falling on you, but to hear it whoosh down is kind of cool."

She also has bamboo wood floors. Bamboo in its natural state can be harder than some oaks. It's also a green option because bamboo isn't a tree. It's a quick-growing grass. So while it can take decades to grow an oak floor, it only takes weeks to grow enough bamboo for a floor.

Beyond the infrastructure of the house comes purchasing decisions for the amenities inside. That's where Greg Stolzer's green instincts kick in for his Mount Prospect home.

His refrigerator is Energy Star-rated. That means it uses less water and electricity to cool the food inside than a regular refrigerator does. It's a bit more expensive, but the cost difference pays for itself in lower water and electricity bills, Stolzer said.

He also invests in compact florescent light bulbs, which are available at any local hardware store. If Lance Armstrong's pedaling was the fuel powering the bulbs, compact florescent lights would be easy coasting versus the uphill, hot-pursuit pedaling required to power incandescent lights.

"The proof of energy savings is in the heat the bulbs generate," Stolzer said. "You put your hand on an incandescent bulb that's been on for a couple minutes, and you're going to burn yourself. Not so with a CFL."

Other tips include not cleaning with bleaches and ammonia. Lemon juice, baking soda and vinegar all are alternatives that don't put toxic odors in the air or chemicals in the environment. And clean with reusable rags instead of paper towels and use cloth napkins instead of the disposable kind.

Greening the green

Food that tastes good and doesn't make you sick in the long run was popular long before the green revolution. But with tighter living spaces, having a green thumb in the garden is harder than ever.

With or without a garden, there are ways to eat and grow plants that will make Mother Nature smile.

Heather Goudreau in St. Charles and Kelly Joslin in Oswego both have small gardens at home. That in itself is a nod to the environment. But there are little things they do to supplement those gardens to help keep the planet alive and well.

You'll never see Goudreau carry plastic bags out of the supermarket. You won't see her carry out paper bags either.

Neither of the traditional checkout options are a good choice in her mind. Instead, she totes reusable, canvas bags to and from the store. She doesn't even use the clear, plastic bags in the fruit and vegetable aisles.

For lunch, she doesn't use baggies or a brown sack. She uses washable plastic containers for sandwiches and metal spoons instead of their disposable, plastic cousins.

She also supports the local farmer's market, a step Joslin takes even further.

As the winter ices recede, Joslin hits the farm fields and greenhouses leased by the Green Earth Institute in Naperville.

The institute's farm grows crops as part of a community-supported agriculture program. The program connects area residents with locally grown food by having them buy shares. The shares support all the seeds, supplies, labor and growing costs of the crops. In return, the farmers provide the shareholders with weekly or bi-weekly boxes of fresh vegetables for about 20 weeks.

Because the veggies are grown locally, there is less need for preservative chemicals and less use of gas to transport the food. There are also the taste benefits.

"I don't like tomatoes, but I eat tomatoes now because they're fabulous from there," Joslin said.

At home, Joslin also has what amounts to a free irrigation system. The spouts that collect the rainwater flowing from her roof are diverted into a pair of 60-gallon barrels. So instead of turning on the hose, Joslin can just scoop out the free water in the barrels.

"The barrels are basically the easiest green thing you can do," Joslin said.

In a group setting, one easy thing by each person can turn into a big movement.

Where a little is a lot

If Kay McKeen embodies the potential impact of one greenie on the planet, then Joanne East and her fellow residents at the Wyndemere Senior Living Campus in Wheaton embody the impact of a group.

East leads a team of residents who work with staff at the retirement community to inject green forethought into just about every aspect of their daily lives.

The seniors recycle and compost, but again, it may be their efforts to reuse products in their current form that makes the most impact.

Old eyeglasses are donated for reuse. Empty pill bottles are donated to local veterinarian offices. Expired medicine is taken to Central DuPage Hospital instead of flushed down the toilet. Old clothes are taken to resale shops. Unwanted shoes are donated to the needy. Plastic shopping bags are taken back to the stores they came from. Metal hangers are given to local dry cleaners. Styrofoam packaging materials are donated to local UPS and Mailboxes, Etc. stores. Even pots and vases are donated to local flower shops and greenhouses.

"There's lots of old people here, so they get lots of flowers and plants," East said.

Retirement doesn't have to mean not making a contribution to society and the planet, East said. The reward is the effort itself.

"You feel like you're making a little inroads," East said. "It would be nice if other places would join us."

Friday

Colleges reaching out to recruit gay, lesbian and transgender students

Listen to the radio interview about my article here!
By James Fuller

They've chased star athletes. They've pursued valedictorians. Now colleges and universities are vying for the attention of gay, lesbian and transgender students.

Several Illinois institutions of higher learning Friday will join the likes of Princeton, Yale and other top colleges at the National Gay-Friendly College Fair in San Diego.

Recruiters say the fair and others like it are a budding trend. College and university administrators want prospective students to know their sexuality won't just be allowed on campus, but embraced.

Eric Tammes is among the recruiters planning to attend Friday's fair. Tammes is an assistant vice president for student services at Roosevelt University, which has campuses in Chicago and Schaumburg.

This will be the second fair of its kind Tammes has recruited at. He'll attend a third fair next week at Harvey Milk High School in New York.

"Students are coming out at a much younger age," Tammes said. "That process isn't beginning in college or after college like we may have seen 10 or 20 years ago. So these high school students who are out come looking for a range of things that show a college will generally have students like them, and a university with an inclusive mission."

For Roosevelt, that mission may seem obvious as its president, Chuck Middleton, is one of a handful of college leaders who are openly gay.

Other factors LGBT students might look for are gay and lesbian student organizations, gay and lesbian courses or majors, and gender-neutral residential halls where students can live in co-ed rooms.

Colleges are even subjecting themselves to ratings by gay-friendly organizations, such as Campus Pride. The not-for-profit unveiled a 55-question rating system in September. Colleges can answer the questions and receive a starred ranking on Campus Pride's LGBT-Friendly Campus Climate Index. There are now more than 150 colleges ranked in the index.

Eight Illinois colleges and universities are ranked in the system. Of those, the University of Illinois at Chicago has the highest rating- a perfect five stars. Bradley University in Peoria has the lowest rating- one and half stars out of five.

"These fairs and this index show that a campus is committed to go specifically to outreach to these students and their families," said Shane Windmeyer, executive director of Campus Pride. "For the first time, every college can come and find lesbian and gay students who are out and let them know they can be themselves at their school."

Robin Matthies said she would've loved having that information available to her back when she was in high school. Matthies is now the coordinator of student activities at the Illinois Institute of Technology, which has campuses in Chicago and Wheaton.

She also is an openly gay adviser to IIT's gay and lesbian student organization and recruited gay students at a recent fair in Pennsylvania.

"We didn't have anything like that in my high school days," Matthies said. "But high schools all over the place have gay student associations now. When they get to college, the organizations there are a lot louder and a lot outer."

That's key for a school like IIT because its science focus doesn't allow for gay studies majors, Matthies said.

"We go to these fairs because we want students to know this is a gay-friendly school, and if you're into science, math, architecture or engineering, this is the place to be," she said. "The idea for these fairs is great, and it's really going to take off."

Monday

Some Groundhog Day fun



Our groundhog gets no respect on his biggest day of year
By James Fuller

For most groundhogs, early February means it's time to stop hibernating, refill their bellies and find a date for the Super Bowl.

Not me.

This groundhog awoke to bathe in the glory of the one day of the year devoted entirely to me. I'm so famous, crowds gather just to get a glimpse of my shadow.

It was about 9 a.m. when I strolled outside ready for the glare of the flashbulbs and paparazzi. Smiling, I greeted … no one.

What the heck? Where is my adoring crowd? Did everyone forget?

I headed out to find my public. First stop, back to my roots at Herrick Lake Forest Preserve in Wheaton. Maybe people hadn't heard I dumped that hole in the ground and got my own apartment.

When I arrive, the only people there are some cross-country skiers.

"Are you here for some sort of YouTube video?" Asked one lady.

"Um, no, I happen to be a groundhog," I replied.

"Oh yeah, Groundhog Day. That's coming up pretty soon, right?"

"That would be today," I reply, in disgust. Seriously, who doesn't know when Groundhog Day is? I decide to go to a place where I'm sure to find some fans on my special day.

When I arrive at Cosley Zoo in Wheaton I'm a bit taken aback at the lack of cars in the parking lot. The calendar for the zoo clearly says there will be a Groundhog Day event.

"We had to cancel that due to lack of interest," said the receptionist in the gift shop.

"Lack of interest?" As I pondered what she said another zoo employee approached me.

"Are you a singing telegram?"

"No! Look, I'm a groundhog here to hang out with my fans. Isn't there anyone who wants to cheer for me or something?"

A third employee comes out and tells me there's a meeting with the Junior Zookeepers taking place and I can pop in there if I want. As I leave the gift shop, I'm asked if I saw my shadow this morning.

"Not yet, but I'm so big it's kind of hard for me to see my own shadow."

"I don't think that whole six weeks more of winter thing means anything up here anyway," the receptionist said. "That's more in the South."

Clearly, she was just jealous of my fame and trying to bring me down. I had to find my real fans.

I headed into the zoo's barn to find the Junior Zookeepers. They all sat in a circle around a senior zookeeper.

"Do you guys know who I am?" I asked.

Puzzled looks.

"A guy in a costume?"

"I'm a groundhog! Don't you know about Groundhog Day?"

I could see that struck a note with the senior zookeeper.

"Oh yeah, that's coming up soon."

I couldn't believe it. Even the zoo had forgotten my day. There weren't even any other groundhogs there. Although it seemed some of them knew about my day, I couldn't stay and listen to the young zookeepers get brainwashed.

Feeling pretty bummed, I took the search for my fans to the Morton Arboretum near Lisle. They, too, were scheduled to have a big Groundhog Day party.

As I approached the gateway to the Children's Garden, a woman approached me with someone who looked familiar.

"You must be here for Groundhog Day," she said.

Finally, a fan.

"You know it," I said. "But who's that you've got with you?"

"This is the pelt from a real groundhog."

I could feel the fur on my nape spring to life as I shuddered. This was no party. It was an ambush. I didn't get a good look at the pelt, but it appeared they'd already gotten Uncle Bob.

"It's OK," the arboretum staff reassured me. "This one died of natural causes."

I always told Uncle Bob he'd pay for it one day if he didn't cut back on the dandelions.

And then I saw him. The smiling little boy walked right up to me.

"Hi, do you know who I am?" I asked.

"A groundhog?" Answered Jackson Roach, a 7-year-old from Glen Ellyn.

"Yup. Do you know what I'm doing here?"

"Trying to find your shadow?"

"Do you see it?"

"Umm, no."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means the winter is going to be over sooner."

Bingo. Finally, a true fan. As it turned out, everyone at the arboretum was a groundhog fan.

It made me feel a little guilty.

You see, it's not easy being just an average rodent. Groundhogs get all the love-- a holiday, even a Bill Murray movie. All that hype, but do most people even know what a groundhog looks like?

Thankfully, I found the answer is no. And it made it a lot easier for this chipmunk to leave the groundhog's shadow and steal a little glory, even for just one day.

Watch the video of my day as a groundhog:

Thursday

Wheaton veteran's battles now on the homefront



Five years of war in perspective
By James Fuller

Joel Gomez's post traumatic stress disorder is on a different level than the more fortunate of his fellow Iraq war veterans.

It's not uncommon for his niece, Sonia Sanchez, to warn him ahead of time if she's about to open a can of pop. That noise, and many others -- including his respirator and the Van Morrison ring tone on his cell phone -- often trigger the dive-for-cover instinct Gomez learned as a soldier.

Only Gomez can't dive for cover. Tomorrow, he'll mark four years as a quadriplegic. On Wednesday, he'll join fellow veterans in commemorating the five-year anniversary of the war that ruined his body.

In reflecting on both anniversaries, it's the latter that seems to cause Gomez the most grief.

His personal life is one of a minor celebrity and local war hero. Gomez's service in Iraq is so revered in Wheaton that the community rallied to raise money to build him a new house loaded with technological amenities to make his life easier.

Yet in the last four years, health is a primary concern for those who love Gomez. He's had bed sores, a hole in his esophagus, pneumonia, a collapsed lung and a blocked artery in his heart. He's set to get skin grafts on his hips later this year.

At one time, his parents thought he'd die.

Now he spends most of his days in bed with his feet and shins wrapped in wool booties and a sheet over his torso.

It sounds bad, but Gomez's humor and spirit is as strong as his body is broken. It's not uncommon for him to top off his dress with a T-shirt that reads, "Trust me, I'm perfect."

Gomez's parents, his sister and his niece and nephew all share the home with him. He never is truly alone.

Except for maybe in his thoughts.

When he closes his eyes, Gomez has two symbolic images of the Iraq war that flash before him.

The first is of a lone soldier who's suffered a traumatic brain injury, or a serviceman, like him, whose limbs are without function or missing.

The other is of a car bombing. Children and civilians are dead and confused loved ones are all asking the same question: "Why?"

That is Gomez's view of the war -- pain on both sides. No winners.

Gomez said he could see as a soldier there was no way Iraq would ever achieve an American democratization.

"I knew it would never be done because the differences and ideals are so varied that it would be impossible," he said. "We are not run by religion in every aspect of life, but they are."

Indeed, Gomez is a veteran who believes the U.S. went into Iraq "based on a bunch of lies and fabrications."

If you can't tell by the calendar that mocks President George W. Bush's talent for making up words, Gomez will be happy to tell you himself that he regards him as a "horrible president."

Maybe, then, it's not a surprise that Gomez breaks from Wheaton's usual Republican leanings to favor Hillary Clinton for president. He even donated a little more than $400 to her campaign.

Politics get Gomez fired up. But it's his dreams for the future that fuel him.

He's trying to find a college with distance learning to study world religions. He wants to write a book about his life. And he wants to shed light on problems in the VA medical system.

Gomez describes his time in various VA hospitals as "almost disturbing."

"They're great people, but their training and knowledge of patient experiences is, I hate to say it, subpar."

Despite it all, Gomez will not wake up angry tomorrow. He won't be in a cold sweat, reliving the plunge of his Bradley Fighting Vehicle off a cliff into the Tigris River.

Gomez has no memory of the accident. "Part of me wishes I did remember, and part of me is really afraid to remember."

This week, and both anniversaries, will pass pretty much like any other. In defiance of the odds, Gomez will be both alive and happy.

"I think God has given up on trying to take me. So far it's Gomez 8, God 0."