Today
I felt as though I had miraculously traveled back in time over 20 years when I
partook in school lunch at the high school I’m teaching at this semester. As I walked into the cafeteria, I realized
that nothing short of chaos was unfolding around me. To my right, boisterous laughter from an
unseen source echoed through across the cafeteria. Students moved about the cafeteria talking with friends, sending text messages, and enjoying lunch.
I got into line with other students and watched as the lunch lady
carefully assembled styrofoam plates of food.
To my right, a sign revealed today’s options: pizza or chicken drumstick and
roll. To my left, a young man slowly
pushed a wheeled garbage bin that lumbered through the cafeteria like a Jawa
sandcrawler on the surface of the desert planet of Tattooine.
I
chose the pizza. It was covered with pepperoni
and the crust was thin and crispy. Broccoli
and a small salad were my sides of choice, which were carefully balanced on
my plate. At the
end of the line was a basket full of individual tubs of ranch dressing sealed
with foil. I grabbed one and
was getting excited to dig in.
“Do
you want to pick something else?” asked the woman working the cash
register. “You get two fruits and two
vegetables.” I thanked the woman for her
advice and added an orange and baby carrots, both neatly wrapped in plastic
bags.
As
I enjoyed my lunch, I realized that little had changed about school lunches from
the time I ate them in the early 1990s.
Absent were the syrupy cups of fruit which had an expiration date in the
next decade and in their place were a lot more fresh fruits and
vegetables. Even the broccoli tasted fresh hadn’t
been cooked to the point that every last mineral had been extracted from the
green crowns.
Perhaps
it wasn’t the food, but the memories that my lunch evoked that I found so pleasant. For a brief moment in time I was a high
school student again, concerned with little more than when my homework was due
and what I had planned for the weekend.
I reflected on a time when work, bills, and responsibilities were
something only adults had to worry about.
I finished the last of my lunch with a nostalgic grin on my face and took the final sip of my 6oz box of strawberry milk.
As I finish writing this post, I wish to offer my
readers a few quick words of advice. Young
readers, never forget to savor school lunch: they disappear far too quickly
from our daily routines. Adult
readers: never let the challenges and hardships of life rob you of your
memories of high school lunch when the food was acceptable, responsibilities
were few, and all dreams are possible to she or he who never gives up on them.
