Close dialogue 1/2 Next image Previous image Toggle caption

Support the Guardian

Fund independent journalism

Support from $3.45 a week Support from $3.45 a week

Print subscriptions

Newsletters

The Guardian - Back to home The Guardian

Show more Hide expanded menu

- News
- View all News
- US news
- US politics
- World Cup 2026
- World news
- Climate crisis
- Middle East
- Ukraine
- US immigration
- Business
- Environment
- Tech
- Science
- Newsletters
- The Filter
- Wellness
- Opinion
- Sport
- View all Sport
- World Cup 2026
- Soccer
- NFL
- Tennis
- MLB
- MLS
- NBA
- WNBA
- NHL
- F1
- Golf
- Culture
- View all Culture
- Film
- Books
- Music
- Art & design
- TV & radio
- Stage
- Classical
- Games
- Lifestyle
- View all Lifestyle
- The Filter
- Wellness
- Fashion
- Food
- Recipes
- Love & sex
- Home & garden
- Health & fitness
- Family
- Travel
- Money
Search input google-search Search
```
  *   [Search jobs](https://jobs.theguardian.com/)
```
Search input google-search Search
The Filter
Wellness
Fashion
Food
Recipes
Love & sex
Home & garden
Health & fitness
Family
Travel
Money

Esme Gordon-Craig with her grandfather, Nicholas. Photograph: Courtesy of Esme Gordon-Craig

View image in fullscreen

Esme Gordon-Craig with her grandfather, Nicholas. Photograph: Courtesy of Esme Gordon-Craig

A moment that changed me Grandparents and grandparenting

A moment that changed me: my grandpa risks his life to litter pick – and he taught me a profound lesson

I thought I knew what it was to be a good citizen. But after seeing him scramble up a ditch, beaming with pride at his rubbish-filled bag, I realised what it actually involves

Esme Gordon-Craig

Wed 1 Jul 2026 01.45 EDT

Prefer the Guardian on Google

I’ve always thought of myself as a good person: a good citizen and a good member of my community – at least in the ethical sense of the word. I presumed being good required refraining from harming the world and the people within it. An example of this being that I never litter.

However, when I moved home to Staffordshire after graduating in the summer of 2025, my understanding of what it means to be a good citizen – what it means to be “good” altogether – changed significantly.

It began earlier this year. I was on a walk with my dog and decided to switch up my usual route and head to the canal for a change of scenery. I soon bumped into my grandpa, Nicholas – who lives in the same village as us – not on the towpath but scrambling up a nearby ditch. He was beaming with pride, wielding a litter picker in one hand and a bag filled with rubbish in the other.

It turned out that my grandpa, even at 83, spends an hour or so almost every day litter picking. And I mean the extreme version of litter picking, where no rubbish, no matter how difficult it is to reach, will go unpicked. I knew he was a fan of keeping the village tidy, but I had no idea of his dedication to the cause.

It’s not an exaggeration to say he risks his life for the sake of cleaning up our area; clambering into bogs to reach an empty Pot Noodle packet, climbing up a tree to access dog poo bags left dangling in mid-air, and scavenging through thorns to get his hands on empty beer cans. He’s prepared to fall into the canal for the sake of removing large logs that might damage passing boats. The lengths he goes to are as anxiety-inducing as they are heartwarming.

Besides the odd litter-picking session at school, usually forced upon us for disciplinary reasons, I had never participated in this activity myself. I would never have dreamed of littering, but I was not the sort of person who would look at abandoned rubbish and decide to clean it up, either. But, when you see your grandpa about to fling himself into a bush to retrieve an empty crisp packet, it’s hard not to get involved.

Soon, I fell into an almost daily routine: I would set off on my walk with the dog and a good podcast – then, halfway through, I would find myself, litter picker in hand, being directed by my grandpa to fetch whatever the general public had decided to dispose of that day.

View image in fullscreen

Esme Gordon-Craig on the Tixall canal towpath in April. Photograph: Courtesy of Esme Gordon-Craig

And it wasn’t always just litter picking. Once, after a terrible storm, we spent half an hour straightening and restaking the recently planted tree saplings that had been blown over in the wind. Now, I take great pride in walking past said saplings, which are looking stronger and more sturdy by the day.

I practise my grandpa’s teachings even when we’re not on a litter-picking excursion. Never again will I walk past a stray can or takeaway cup without picking it up and disposing of it in the nearest bin. And, after spending so much time contemplating what we throw away, I am pursuing more sustainable methods of shopping, eating and drinking whenever possible. My experience with litter has revolutionised the way I buy and bin all manner of things, from coffee cups to fast fashion.

I have come to realise that being a good citizen requires so much more than holding the “correct” views on international events or simply avoiding being “bad”. It’s about going out of your way to be helpful and making a positive contribution to society. It’s making a practical effort to effect change, even if only on a small scale – rather than simply aligning yourself with grand worldviews.

In truth, this is something I had forgotten. It’s become the norm to feel like following activist Instagram accounts and reposting messages of love and hope are enough to cement your moral status. But, while there might be some value in spreading positivity online, it certainly isn’t the only thing we can and should be doing if we want to make a difference.

This has sparked a wonderful ripple effect in my life. I now engage far more with others in the community – boaters along the canal, appreciative of my clean-up efforts, have been more willing to share their fascinating stories of life on the water. It’s got me thinking about what more I can do for my local area in the future. It’s also made me love my home town even more than I did before. And above all else, it’s left me itching to know more about my grandpa’s life and what other extreme hobbies he might have up his sleeve.

At this unsettling time

We hope you appreciated this article. Before you close this tab, we want to ask if you could support the Guardian at this crucial time for journalism in the US.

In his first presidency, Donald Trump called journalists the enemy; a year into his second term, it’s clear that this time around, he’s treating us like one.

From Hungary to Russia, authoritarian regimes have made silencing independent media one of their defining moves. Sometimes outright censorship isn’t even required to achieve this goal. In the United States, we have seen the administration apply various forms of pressure on news outlets in the year since Trump returned to office. One of our great disappointments is how quickly some of the most storied US media organizations have folded when faced with the mere specter of hostility from the administration – long before their hand was forced.

While private news organizations can choose how to respond to this government’s threats, insults and lawsuits, public media has been powerless to stop the defunding of federally supported television and radio. This has been devastating for local and rural communities, who stand to lose not only their primary source of local news and cultural programming, but health and public safety information, including emergency alerts.

While we cannot make up for this loss, the Guardian is proud to make our fact-based work available for free to all, especially when the internet is increasingly flooded with slanted reporting, misinformation and algorithmic drivel.

Being free from billionaire and corporate ownership means the Guardian will never compromise our independence – but it also means we rely on support from readers who understand how essential it is to have news sources that are immune to intimidation from the powerful.

We know our requests for support are not as welcome as our reporting, but without them, it’s simple: our reporting wouldn’t exist. Of course, we understand that some readers are not in a position to support us, and if that is you, we value your readership no less.

But if you are able, please support us today. All gifts are gratefully received, but a recurring contribution is most impactful, helping sustain our work throughout the year ahead (and among the great benefits, we’ll show you far fewer fundraising requests like this). It takes just 37 seconds to give. Thank you for protecting the free press.

Support $5/monthly

Recommended

Support $15/monthly

Unlock All-access digital benefits:

Far fewer asks for support
Ad-free reading on all your devices
Unlimited access to the premium Guardian app
Regular dispatches from the newsroom to see the impact of your support
Unlimited access to Feast, the Guardian recipe app

Support once from just $1

Continue

Remind me in August

Explore more on these topics

Reuse this content