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Free Breakfast

Third grade, the bell chimes letting everyone know that it is time for recess. My name gets called close to last to leave so I get up from my seat and run to my locker to swap out my indoor shoes for my outdoor ones. I head out of  the classroom door and see children absolutely crowded around a teacher holding a platter. When I finally got through the crowd of children I quickly realized I was one of few children in my class to not receive one of the breakfast muffins or small pancakes that were being doled out. I was an angry 8 year old. I felt left out, and jealous. My teacher had always said no sharing food unless there was enough for everyone, and if that was the case why did the school not have enough breakfast treats for all of us? Why did only some of the kids get them? Why did some of the kids get special lunches brought to school they could pick up from the office while I had to eat my food from home? 

Still angry from the morning recess events and unanswered questions, I get into my mom’s SUV and slam the door. I yell to her about how there were kids in my class that got to leave the room for recess first, making me miss out on the treats. I ask her if she can sign me up for the special school lunch so that I do not have to bring my lunch bag from home. My mom asked me if I remembered eating breakfast that morning, I said yes. She follows that question up by asking if i had a full belly after lunch, I answer yes. My mom then tries her best to explain to me that I do not need breakfast treats or special lunches because we are able to have those things from home. She continued to explain to me that I do not need to eat the school food because some other kids might depend on that, and that some other kids might not have any dinner when they come home after school. 

From that point on, my mothers explanation gave me a whole new understanding of what it means to take resources for free. This made me understand that just because it is free doesn’t mean I need to take it, because I could be taking it from someone who really needs it. That day was my first look of what it means to be privileged enough to grow up in a middle class family where we could afford our own things, and not depend on the community or schools for basic life essentials.

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