Plogging Reflection Report
Plogging at Tambakboyo and Maguwoharjo Stadium
Hana Fardilla (24310410048)
Psikologi Lingkungan
Dosen Pengampu : Dr. Arundati Shinta, M.A
Essay 2 – Plogging
Fakultas Psikologi Universitas Proklamasi 45
Yogyakarta
I have ADHD, and I do not usually jog on a daily basis, it
is often difficult for me to start such routines. Therefore, while this
activity is typically described as “jog and pick up trash,” my version was
closer to “pick up trash and jog.”
For my first session, I went to Tambak Boyo alone on November 1st 2025. It is a
popular destination for UP45 students, and many of my peers also chose this
location. I started at 4:15 PM and walked around the area until I returned to
my starting point at 5:40 PM (approximately 1.7 KM).
Picking up trash is not new to me, so I initially thought
this activity would feel fulfilling. However, it turned out to be one of the
most emotionally challenging experiences I have had recently. The physical
effort was not the difficult part, it was the emotional weight of doing
something that felt simultaneously meaningful and meaningless.
I picked up visible trash along the walking path but did not
take those buried in the sewer or wet piles that were too hard to reach. At
first, I reassured myself that it was acceptable to do what I could and that
small efforts still count. Yet, as I looked around, I started hearing a harsh
inner voice saying, “If you leave those behind, you are no different from
people who do not care.” That thought made me cry. I sat on the ground for
a moment to calm myself.
I also heard people saying “Mapala, Mapala” in what seemed
like a mocking tone, though it might have been my own anxious interpretation. A
dog passed by, and I called it over. It came to me, sniffing the trash. The
waste was wet and spoiled, and I felt even sadder seeing dogs and cats sniffing
or chewing on garbage that could harm them.
After several minutes, I stood up and continued picking up
the trash. I brought it back to my boarding house, where my landlord pays for a
private waste service, so I knew it would be properly managed. However, I did
not weigh or sort the trash correctly. Feeling exhausted, I used my dumbbell to
estimate the weight around three kilograms, though it was likely less accurate
due to moisture.
Most of them are plastic cup and cilok wrapper.
The next day, I began my second plogging session, scheduled
for 6:00 AM. I woke up at 5:00 AM but struggled to start moving. I had to
complete small tasks gradually so I would not feel overwhelmed and shut down.
By the time I was ready, it was already 9:30 AM.
I went to Maguwo Stadium on November 2nd, another common plogging location.
I started using my bare hands to pick up the trash until someone called out,
“Hey, don’t use your bare hands!” I looked across the road and saw a woman
running toward me, carrying a small plastic bag. “Use this,” she said. “You can
take care of the environment, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”
Her kindness almost brought me to tears.
She asked why I was doing this, and I told her it was for an
assignment. It turned out she was a psychology graduate herself. We chatted
briefly, and she checked on me several times afterward to make sure I was
alright, as the weather was hot and I was sweating heavily. She even offered me
a drink.
Above everything, I feel grateful that I met her. She gave
me the strength to keep going and even inspired me to consider doing this
activity weekly. She thanked me a few times, which gave me mixed feelings again.
I felt happy, yet still felt I was doing nothing.
I brought the trash home again and estimated the weight to
be around four kilograms, collected within a 300-meter radius. Most of them are
the same, plastic cup and cilok wrapper, and for some reason, there were so
many thin wire, which I worried would harm the animals around. I spent two
hours completing the task. Taking photos afterward was oddly satisfying, yet I
could not shake the feeling that it still was not enough.
Our lecturer encouraged us to “be the top 2% of people who care”, to be heroes who act for the environment. I understand the intention behind those words, but I realized during this activity that heroism is not what moves me.
This experience was emotionally complex. I felt both the
motivation to help and the pain of realizing how little one person can change.
The “hero” narrative does not fully capture this mixture of hope and despair. I
do not want to be a hero. I want to be someone who continues to care. Even when
it hurts, even when no one notices, even when it seems like the bare minimum.
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