There is a student of mine who I have gotten to know pretty well over the years. Let's call her Ashley. She has a sketchy home life. A good relationship with her mom, but Mom makes poor choice in men. As a result, more drinking and drug-use goes on in Ashley's house than she would like her little brother and sister to see. Ashley has taken it upon herself to look after the younger siblings and, while I really do think her mom means well by her kids, she continues to make bad choices. She recently married the very man who prompted a CPS call from a relative because he was stealing Ashley's aderol. Last summer, Ashley accompanied my son and I to the zoo one afternoon and chattered the whole way home about drug use, arguments, and shut-off notices with the same ease that I would discuss what I'm having for dinner. She a very sweet girl, however, who struggles with her school work and has low self-esteem as a result.
Last week she informed me that her step dad (who was recently released from jail) was probably going back soon because he had failed a drug test. On Monday she mentioned the he was in fact in jail and had taken their new food stamps card with him. On Tuesday she told me that her mom went to the jail to get the card, but it was missing. I said, "how are you guys on food?" she responded, "I mean, things are bad, but we've been through a lot worse so don't worry Mrs. Villarreal."
On Wednesday she stayed after school for a club I run and had arranged for me to give her a ride home. On the ride home, we were talking about how hungry we are (lunch at a high school is at 10:30) and I said, "We need to eat up leftover chicken salad, but I'm not really in the mood for it." She says, "Oh man that sounds SOO good! I love chicken salad." We chat a bit more and she tells me that last night she didn't eat any dinner because there wasn't enough to go around. She told her mom and siblings to eat first (her mom because "you know, she's nursing so she has to eat" and her siblings because she always puts them before herself.) She had eaten lunch (thank goodness for the free/reduced lunch program), but her prospects of dinner weren't looking good. She kept saying, "we'll figure something out." So I told her we were going to stop at my house (on the way to her house) and I would make her a chicken salad sandwich. Well I ended up giving her the container of salad that was left and then when she said, "Alright, dinner for me!" I started thinking about the other kids in her household. We went out into the garage because she wanted to see our chicks and while we were out there I said, "I can give you a chicken to take home. Does your mom ever make roast chicken?" Her eyes lit up, "yes! we love chicken!" So I go over to the deep freezer, open it up, she peers into it and says, "Holy crap, this whole thing is full of food?"
At that moment I suddenly looked at that freezer from her point of view. That freezer that I have opened and closed 100 times in the past month. That freezer that I have rummaged in and dumped bags of fruit in. That freezer that I have stood over, countless times, staring in while saying, "What do you want for dinner?" or worse "Nothing sounds good." I thought suddenly of my kitchen cupboards, full of canned goods, pastas of varying shapes and sizes, granola bars, goldfish crackers, hell, I have 4 different kinds of vinegars! I have a spice rack and an entire cupboard devoted to my overflow spices. I have a special tupperware that contains all my cake decorating tools. And my refrigerator? Always needing to be cleaned out and always full of dressing, sauces, veggies, and leftovers. My whole kitchen is full of food. I felt embarrassed. I felt gluttonous. I felt guilty.
Go I grabbed a bag and started grocery shopping. I sent her home with a roaster, a couple pounds of ground beef, some noodles, soup, etc. I kept assuring her "don't worry, we have more food than we need," but I this was really just my inner voice speaking out loud.
While I am aware that I have never gone hungry and am thankful for having lived a life so free from want, this experience really made me internalize what it would mean to be hungry. I couldn't imagine, as a child, coming home from school and not going straight to the refrigerator for a snack. I couldn't imagine an evening without dinner. My entire life, dinner has been the mainstay of the evening. If it wasn't for dinner prep, dinner table conversations, and then clean up, what would I do with myself all evening long? So much of my life revolves around meals and I've never once had to go without one.
Over my eight years of teaching I have known so many kids and heard so many different life stories. I think we really do take for granted where people come from. Ashley is a smiling, jovial girl who goes home to chaos most days, but you'd never know to look at her. In some ways, kids like Ashley are inspiring. They speak to the resiliency of the human spirit, but mostly I find these stories depressing. This is America and in 2012, surely we should be doing better by our kids by now. Ashley's mom is loving and once Ashley complained to me that her mom never buys junk food. She makes strategic choices to extend the life of her food cards: roasts, bags of potatoes, canned goods, spaghetti. She is also working on her degree, little by little, as time and money allow. She's doing the best she can and attempting to eek out some version of the American dream. Certainly she could make better choices in some cases, but poverty is cyclical and it's all Ashely's mom has ever known.
In the end, I feel inspired and thankful that I was able to help one student out, but I also feel overwhelmed knowing that Ashley is just one of millions of kids who won't eat dinner tonight.
Last week she informed me that her step dad (who was recently released from jail) was probably going back soon because he had failed a drug test. On Monday she mentioned the he was in fact in jail and had taken their new food stamps card with him. On Tuesday she told me that her mom went to the jail to get the card, but it was missing. I said, "how are you guys on food?" she responded, "I mean, things are bad, but we've been through a lot worse so don't worry Mrs. Villarreal."
On Wednesday she stayed after school for a club I run and had arranged for me to give her a ride home. On the ride home, we were talking about how hungry we are (lunch at a high school is at 10:30) and I said, "We need to eat up leftover chicken salad, but I'm not really in the mood for it." She says, "Oh man that sounds SOO good! I love chicken salad." We chat a bit more and she tells me that last night she didn't eat any dinner because there wasn't enough to go around. She told her mom and siblings to eat first (her mom because "you know, she's nursing so she has to eat" and her siblings because she always puts them before herself.) She had eaten lunch (thank goodness for the free/reduced lunch program), but her prospects of dinner weren't looking good. She kept saying, "we'll figure something out." So I told her we were going to stop at my house (on the way to her house) and I would make her a chicken salad sandwich. Well I ended up giving her the container of salad that was left and then when she said, "Alright, dinner for me!" I started thinking about the other kids in her household. We went out into the garage because she wanted to see our chicks and while we were out there I said, "I can give you a chicken to take home. Does your mom ever make roast chicken?" Her eyes lit up, "yes! we love chicken!" So I go over to the deep freezer, open it up, she peers into it and says, "Holy crap, this whole thing is full of food?"
At that moment I suddenly looked at that freezer from her point of view. That freezer that I have opened and closed 100 times in the past month. That freezer that I have rummaged in and dumped bags of fruit in. That freezer that I have stood over, countless times, staring in while saying, "What do you want for dinner?" or worse "Nothing sounds good." I thought suddenly of my kitchen cupboards, full of canned goods, pastas of varying shapes and sizes, granola bars, goldfish crackers, hell, I have 4 different kinds of vinegars! I have a spice rack and an entire cupboard devoted to my overflow spices. I have a special tupperware that contains all my cake decorating tools. And my refrigerator? Always needing to be cleaned out and always full of dressing, sauces, veggies, and leftovers. My whole kitchen is full of food. I felt embarrassed. I felt gluttonous. I felt guilty.
Go I grabbed a bag and started grocery shopping. I sent her home with a roaster, a couple pounds of ground beef, some noodles, soup, etc. I kept assuring her "don't worry, we have more food than we need," but I this was really just my inner voice speaking out loud.
While I am aware that I have never gone hungry and am thankful for having lived a life so free from want, this experience really made me internalize what it would mean to be hungry. I couldn't imagine, as a child, coming home from school and not going straight to the refrigerator for a snack. I couldn't imagine an evening without dinner. My entire life, dinner has been the mainstay of the evening. If it wasn't for dinner prep, dinner table conversations, and then clean up, what would I do with myself all evening long? So much of my life revolves around meals and I've never once had to go without one.
Over my eight years of teaching I have known so many kids and heard so many different life stories. I think we really do take for granted where people come from. Ashley is a smiling, jovial girl who goes home to chaos most days, but you'd never know to look at her. In some ways, kids like Ashley are inspiring. They speak to the resiliency of the human spirit, but mostly I find these stories depressing. This is America and in 2012, surely we should be doing better by our kids by now. Ashley's mom is loving and once Ashley complained to me that her mom never buys junk food. She makes strategic choices to extend the life of her food cards: roasts, bags of potatoes, canned goods, spaghetti. She is also working on her degree, little by little, as time and money allow. She's doing the best she can and attempting to eek out some version of the American dream. Certainly she could make better choices in some cases, but poverty is cyclical and it's all Ashely's mom has ever known.
In the end, I feel inspired and thankful that I was able to help one student out, but I also feel overwhelmed knowing that Ashley is just one of millions of kids who won't eat dinner tonight.
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