Last month, I had the opportunity to volunteer at the University of Michigan’s Campus Move-Out Donation sorting—a behind-the-scenes space that quietly holds stories of excess, care, and possibility. As I sifted through the things students had chosen to part with, I found myself pausing: a half-used journal with a single, powerful quote on the first page—“You are becoming the person you needed”, a coffee maker still dusted with cinnamon, a stack of textbooks filled with highlighted notes. These weren’t just things—they were echoes of long nights, growing pains, and hopeful new beginnings. I couldn’t help but think of the objects I’ve collected and released through different seasons of my life. What do I leave behind, and how?
As students packed their lives into boxes and suitcases at the end of the academic year, many were left with items that no longer fit their journeys—clothes, furniture, books, electronics. But instead of heading straight to a landfill, these things were given a second chance. Each item had once meant something to someone. And yet, here they were, waiting to be sorted, cleaned, repurposed—or discarded.
The Ethics of Letting Go
It wasn’t all poetic. A big part of this experience was reckoning with the reality of what people choose to give away—and how they give it away. I hadn’t expected to be sorting through people’s undergarments—some of them clearly used (gross, I know). I hadn’t expected to find broken glass packed haphazardly with no label, putting volunteers and staff at risk of injury. These moments made me pause. What does ethical donation really mean?
I’m learning that donation isn’t just about giving things away. It’s about giving with care. The items we donate still pass through someone’s hands. They require attention, energy, and time. When we donate carelessly—when we give things that are unhygienic, broken, or even dangerous—we aren’t being generous. We’re shifting the burden. And often, that burden falls on the quiet labor of people behind the scenes.
I learned to ask myself: Would I feel okay giving this to someone I care about? That simple question changed how I saw every item. What I used to think of as an errand—dropping a bag off in a donation bin—actually is a moment of decision-making that ripples outward carrying enormous responsibility. The burden of careless donation doesn’t disappear—it lands on someone.
I am becoming aware of what ethical donation really means—not as a checklist, but as a way of being. Being part of the sorting team reminded me that donation is not the end of the story. It’s a handoff, and the care we put into that handoff matters.
Rethinking Consumption
Another realization that surfaced for me during this experience was about how much we accumulate in the first place. Move-out season reveals the sheer volume of our consumption—things bought out of convenience, impulse, or fleeting need. Heaps of the items we sorted through were nearly new. And while it’s good that they’re being donated rather than thrown away, I found myself reflecting on our patterns of overconsumption. Ethical donation invites us to think upstream: Can we borrow, share, or buy less to begin with? Consumption habits are part of the ethics equation too.
The long-term impact of this shift matters. If we all became a little more mindful—not just during move-out, but all year round—we wouldn’t just reduce landfill waste. We’d reduce the demand for production in the first place, which in turn cuts down on carbon emissions, packaging waste, and resource extraction. Responsible donation isn’t just about where things go but also about rethinking why we need them in the first place. That’s why donation should be a last resort—not the first impulse. The more we reduce and reuse beforehand, the less we’ll need to donate later. In that sense, the act of donating ethically is not the solution in itself, but one small step in building a more sustainable and just future.
The Invisible Labor Behind Donation
Being part of the sorting process made me more aware of this invisible work—the labor that makes donation programs function. So much goes unnoticed. There are people who patiently unwrap items, sort them by type, clean them off, and dispose of unsafe materials. There are people who design the system so others can participate without chaos. There are logistics to figure out—timelines, drop zones, partnerships with local stores. There is care everywhere, and none of it is accidental.
And importantly, there are people who physically move all the donations. At U-M, a dedicated crew of movers picks up items from dorms and transports them to the sorting area. Without their consistent effort and coordination, none of this would be possible.
This work isn’t deemed glamorous, and it’s rarely noticed. But it’s essential. Without it, donation wouldn’t be an act of community—it would be a mess.
I’m deeply grateful to the Office of Campus Sustainability (OCS) for holding this work with such commitment and thoughtfulness. They take on this enormous task with clarity, responsibility, and innovation. For over 25 years, they’ve been reimagining what it means to move out without throwing away—not just items, but the values we say we stand for. In 2024 alone, the program collected 12 tons of material during move-out, diverting 10.6 tons of reusable goods from becoming waste. Their team designs systems that are not only efficient and sustainable, but also deeply respectful of both the labor involved and the broader U-M and Ann Arbor community these donations eventually serve.
They don’t just ask, “How do we collect stuff?” They ask, “How do we make this easier, better, fairer—for everyone?” From creative drop-off stations to streamlined sorting workflows, their efforts make an otherwise overwhelming process feel grounded and intentional.
After items are sorted, many of them are redirected to local nonprofit organizations, student-led initiatives, and community centers. In 2025, this included Planet Blue Student Leaders (for upcoming Free Stores), Jewish Family Services, Ann Arbor Thrift Shop, House N2 Home, Kiwanis, and Goodwill. These partnerships ensure that the goods reach individuals and families who need them—transforming what might have been discarded into something meaningful and useful.
While diverting usable goods from the landfill is essential, the deeper goal is to reduce how much waste we generate in the first place. What if we slowed down at move-in? Waited to see what we truly needed? Shared with roommates or sourced items through reuse programs like the PBSL Move-In Free Store or other local outlets across Ann Arbor? Donation should never be the first impulse. Thoughtful consumption begins long before we’re packing our bags.
Their approach makes campus more sustainable. But it also makes it more humane. It reminds us that sustainability is as much about saving the planet as it is about valuing its people.
A Thoughtful Donation Checklist
Here are a few questions I’ve started asking myself before donating:
- Would I feel good giving this to someone I care about?
- Is this clean, safe, and in good condition?
- Am I donating this out of care—or just to offload it?
- Could this be reused meaningfully, or is it best disposed of responsibly?
- Could I have avoided buying this in the first place?
Volunteering with this team changed the way I think about my own relationship with material things and my own move-outs—what I keep, what I give, and how I give it. It reminded me that sustainability isn’t just about recycling or reducing waste. It’s about relationships. Between people, objects, and the values that connect them. I’ve learned to ask: am I giving something useful, or am I just trying to get rid of it? Am I packing this with care, or am I passing on my neglect?
As I prepare to move again someday—whether from a dorm, a city, or a chapter of my life—I hope I’ll remember to pause. To donate not just responsibly, but lovingly.
Because the things we leave behind don’t vanish. Somewhere, someone’s hands will receive what I leave behind. And those hands deserve our respect.
Want to Donate More Thoughtfully this Move-out Season?
Check out this resource guide from OCS on how to sort, pack, and give responsibly.
If you’re preparing for your own move-out or simply looking for ways to donate and reuse responsibly, here are a few helpful resources across Ann Arbor, Dearborn, and Flint:
- Student Move-In/Move-Out Guide – City of Ann Arbor
- Ann Arbor Reuse & Donation Resources – Recycle Ann Arbor
- Reuse, Donation, & Thrifting Resources – Dearborn/Metro Detroit Area
- Flint Local Thrift and Donation Resources
Chesta is a PBA intern and pursuing an MA in Educational Studies (Educational Equity, Justice, and Social Transformation).