The way those crazy people on TLC save pieces of aluminum foil and toilet paper rolls and tupperware lids with no home...that's me with breakfast food at my school. I am on the path to recovery, though, and understanding myself.
This year we began a new program in which every child in school eats breakfast in the classroom for free. I am one hundred percent behind this program because every child deserves to eat, no matter what.
There's one part of it that bothers me, though. When a child refuses something, or just isn't hungry, or maybe ate at home, the food is disposed. As in perfectly good, healthy, yummy food tossed into the trash. That's the rule in order for us to be reimbursed for meals.
Does that seem absurd to anyone else??
I do NOT want to jeopardize our program so I am usually pretty diligent about following the rules. Except when I'm...not. It pains me to throw this stuff out. Sometimes I compulsively stash it. This is my fridge today.
So....yeah. Nobody eats my stashed food. It's just there, resting in the refrigerator instead of in the trash can. But I dream about hungry kids knocking on my classroom door, needing some pancakes from my secret food pantry. I imagine giving fruit to people at soup kitchens, despite the fact that it's really not mine to give. I imagine interrupting political debates and interjecting, "I can help! I have pancakes!"
This is such a strange country we live in, where in order to feed hungry kids, I actually have to throw food away. Meanwhile, 35 million people in the US suffer chronic hunger every day. It's not all lazy sign-holders and crack addicts like some people think. The average "hungry" family household has working parents who have to make tough choices between healthy food items and electricity.
That was my family. Two working parents who didn't ask for help. They made the most of their few dollars, and learned to stretch. We ate soup. We ate cheap pasta. We ate seasonal fruit from our yard. We had times when things were great, and times when things got bad. As the oldest, I remember my parents whispering and looking at each other with worry in their eyes, wondering if we'd make it until payday. I remember being that kid in class who hadn't had breakfast but would never complain.
That part of my childhood was a very long time ago, but roots grow deep, I guess. I have a sister who compulsively buys clothes for her kids. Another sister buys more toys than her kids will ever need or want. Me? I overspend on food. And apparently I am now a recovering school breakfast hoarder.