Uni High Gargoyle Staff Blog

For a belated Christmas gift, my dear Uncle John sent me a beautiful, big coffee mug that had interesting facts about his home city, Boston, written on it. I was very pleased with the gift because finally I would have a hearty-sized coffee mug to use during first- hour history, instead of one of the grimy, moldy ones that sit on the dingy windowsill for public use. Also, as mentioned before, this coffee mug is rather good-looking, one that makes all the other coffee mugs look and feel inferior.

But after examining my fine coffee mug, I turned it over and looked at the bottom. My proud smile immediately vanished. The same feeling that came over Angel Clare when Tess Durbeyfield told him of her previous “follies” came over me. Painted on the bottom of my precious mug was “Starbucks,” in the traditional forest green text.

So what’s my “beef” with Starbucks? Well, here comes another story. About a month earlier, my dad, mom, and I were driving along on our way to a swim meet out of town. My mom was craving caffeine and suggested we stop by Starbucks. I, of course, was completely amenable to her decision because Starbucks makes high quality beverages.

However, my dad countered my mother’s decision. “Oh, Starbucks. I think I read in a newspaper that they don’t let their workers form unions … or maybe they don’t purchase fair-trade coffee. Anyways, we probably shouldn’t go there.”

My little bubble of excitement burst. Starbucks is one of those corporations? Starbucks. The place where one is served the best-tasting, highest-quality coffee … noooo!

Just like I promised myself that I wouldn’t buy food from Chipotle because they unjustly treat Immokalee tomato pickers, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t buy anything from Wal-Mart, I had to promise myself that I wouldn’t ever buy another cup of joyful Starbucks coffee.

So back to the main story. Although my Uncle John’s gift was sweet, it was a gift that supports a company that uses dangerous milk from cows that are pumped with growth hormones, don’t allow their workers to form unions, and buys only a tiny percent of fair-trade coffee beans.

Although I have made a a promise to boycott Starbucks, Chipotle, and Wal-Mart, I often ask myself, “What is the point?”

I look down at the shoes, jeans, shirt, and coat I am wearing and I know that some small child in Thailand had to slave away in a sweatshop to make them. Or what about the adorable diamond studs I got fot my Sweet 16? Are they blood diamonds that have funded some brutal civil war in Africa? Or what about the car I drive to and from swim practice every day? Are we not fighting a war, at least in part, over oil?

I can’t help feeling like, and actually being, a complete hypocrite.

Maybe boycotting Starbucks, Wal-Mart, and Chipotle is noble. But what about all of the other things (and I know there must be a lot of things) I buy and use every single day from corporations that violate human rights? So is boycotting three out of the hundreds of corporations really making a difference?

And the biggest question is, “Is it possible to live a modern life without supporting one of “those” companies?”

— Andrea Park