It's Monday afternoon and there should be close to 120 students sitting in Anderson 223, listening to associate professor Charles Henry discuss the pros and cons of recycling in his "Introduction to Sustainable Resource Sciences" class (ESC 111).
Unfortunately, the room looks spacious, as there are only about two-thirds of the students present. According to Henry, this is just one more symptom of the apathy he finds among student populations.
Shoveler ducks in the gray dusk floated on a pond in the middle of the Union Bay wetlands. Their pond is seasonal and is created by the sinking of the ground and the collection of rainwater and runoff.
As the four ducks bobbed their heads in and out of the water, coming up from the bottom with mouthfuls of mud, a constant stream of bubbles joined them on the surface.
"That's methane escaping," Connie Sidles said, explaining that gasses continue to rise from the landfill underneath the pond.
Erin McKeown worries about what may be in the landfill underneath the Montlake parking lot and intramural sports fields, but she is more concerned that she does not know everything that was once dumped in the landfill.
According to the industrial hygienist from UW Environmental Health and Safety, the only way to be sure what is in the landfill is to dig it up. This, she said, is more of a health and ecological hazard than leaving the site alone.
Every day students park, play and walk on what was Seattle's largest landfill -- a place where household trash and industrial pollutants were mixed with unknown hazardous materials to create a class-four Superfund site.
All the UW property between Hec Edmundson Pavilion and U. Village, and between Lake Washington and Montlake Boulevard, was once the destination for 66 percent of Seattle's garbage, but now serves as a way for students to get out of the classroom and into the fresh air.
Its timing coinciding with Earth Day, the UW has changed its recycling program to make it easier for people on campus to recycle their plastic and glass bottles.
Students and faculty will no longer have to toss plastic bottles in the garbage, but can put them instead in the gray recycling bins that used to be marked "aluminum only."
When Sonja Olson walks amid the Hostess products, deli sandwiches, hamburgers, pizza and Mexican food for sale in the Husky Den, she is never comfortable buying food. No matter what she eats for lunch, her entree will be served on a paper plate, her beverage in a disposable container and her utensils will be thrown away. “It just seems like a huge waste,” said Olson, a biology junior. “Think of everyone who eats there and how much could be saved if there was an alternative to disposable products.
Aluminum cans get preferential treatment at the UW. Unlike disposal for other recyclable substances, aluminum can disposal is easily accessible through one of hundreds of aluminum bins throughout campus. "There are three types of containers used for recycling," said Mark Ghezzi, an employee of UW's recycling service and a junior in environmental studies. "There are public-area bins, toters and TAG containers. "Public-area bins are located in buildings like Kane Hall, which have larger classes and lecture halls. These aluminum-only bins can be identified by the UW logo on the front.
For most people at the UW, recycling means little more than tossing an empty aluminum can or an old copy of The Daily into the recycling bin.Very few people think of it beyond a simple reflex. However, before 1990, the University of Washington didn't even have a comprehensive recycling program in place. The Waste Stream Analysis Task Force was formed in 1989, designed to assess disposed waste at the UW and how much of that waste is actually recyclable. The actual analysis began in November 1990.