Reading this essay reminded me of how I feel every time I light up some of my favorite incense sticks bought from a well-know handicraft store and an ashram in India. They smell beautiful and I want to believe no child labor was involved in their making but I am all but certain that is not true. So each time their fragrance fills my home, I also experience guilt for being complicit in the exploitation of children. I gave up wearing glass bangles in my early twenties after I learned about the cruelty that goes into their making, over time that carried over to many other things I loved but had child labor involved in making.
Becoming a mother myself was probably the hard stopping point for me. A child was no longer an abstract, conceptual thing - that person was someone just like my own J. It became too close for comfort. The incense stick has been the only thing remaining from that list that I still use and continue to feel squeamish about. To assuage my guilt, I make sure to use them very sparingly as if it would be less harmful that way.
The unfortunate reality is we have to find some balance between what we want and need and our appetite for enduring guilt over it. The clothes I wear were made is some sweatshop - I can take comfort in that I shop very little and am not big on street fashion. The food I eat could have dubious provenance - there is no other way to get a good deal on something that is labor intensive to produce.
The farmers in my town do sell their produce every Saturday not far from my home but its not my primary source of supplies. If that could be an affordable option my conscience might rest a bit easier. When J was back from from college, we discovered that our local grocery store was selling some very nice eggs from a local farm - we bought it once and got hooked. It was pricey for a dozen eggs but a minor indulgence given how little of it we consume. And cooking them is easy on the conscience.
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