The places where people gather to do laundry belong to the machines now.

BY MICAELA POWERS

IMAGE BY RYAN McGUIRE/PIXABAY.COM

On the second floor of the Humber Lakeshore residence, tucked away in the corner beside the main elevators, there is a room dominated by machines where the residents become part of an endless cycle: Room 235, the laundry room.

Doing the laundry was once a communal activity. Women came together at the local washing spot on the riverside to share the struggle of the work, as well as conversation—discussing local news and common concerns—while each engaged in her own individual battle between muscle and dirt. However, as technology developed to take the physical labour out of washing, the communal nature of the work was lost. The places where people gather to do laundry belong to the machines now.

The door squeaks in protest as you walk into the Humber laundry room, but this is quickly drowned out by the never-ending symphony inside. Six washing machines are lined up on the near side of the room and four more stand opposite, guarding the machine that sells reloadable laundry cards for five dollars. The third washer down from the card machine spat up at some point during its last cycle, and stains of blue detergent drool make lines from the washer’s door to the floor, where a puddle creeps along the concrete. Eight of the ten washers have finished their cycles, and the words “Open Door” flash continually on their screens in anticipation of their operators’ return. The wet clothes inside slump against the washer doors, waiting to be moved into the warmth of a dryer. Lost items are huddled together on the table in the middle of the room, in the hopes of being reclaimed: a collection of single socks, a pair of men’s underwear, a mechanical pencil, and a stick of lip balm.

The room pulses on, churning out countless loads of wet and dry possessions. Like a metal heart, the ventilation system beats out a steady background rhythm in contrast to the intermittent percussion of zippers and buttons against dryer drums, the constantly changing melody of the wash cycles. As the two busy washing machines reach the nine-minute mark, they begin to spin their loads with a renewed urgency that blurs the cascading colours into a strobing gray. They squeal softly, like a distant subway car coming to a stop.

As people cycle through, few words are spoken; everyone keeps to themselves, as though acknowledging anyone else in the room would be an invasion of privacy. Every machine forms a small bubble of personal space, a safe place to leave personal belongings with nothing but the churning of the machine to watch over them. Each time the door squeaks open, all eyes glance over to see if they recognize the newcomer and then turn away quickly so as not to be caught looking. A couple enters and discusses the unfortunate discovery of an earbud amongst their newly washed belongings in another language. Two friends recognize one another and seem surprised to have found someone familiar in this space. One goes over to where the other is loading a washing machine, and they exchange greetings only they can hear over the room’s thrum. The other four people in the room keep to their own machines, their own private routine—laundry bag, washer, dryer, laundry bag—each dutifully performing the transitions and then leaving the machine to do its work alone. A handwritten note lies on the floor by the door: “One shirt… is the only laundry I have… if someone would…”

Micaela Powers grew up in Sudbury, Ontario. She studied English Literature during university, and Professional Writing and Communications at Humber College. She is currently pursuing a career in professional writing.

Image: Ryan McGuire/Pixabay.com, Laundry Saloon.

Edited for publication by Light Zachary, as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.

The HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by the Applied Research & Innovation.