There should be free school lunch for every kid
We’ve all heard the saying, “There’s no such thing as free lunch.” And for millions of American schoolchildren, that’s all too true.
According to the National School Lunch Program, more than 30 million children receive reduced-cost or free school lunches. In order to qualify for free lunch, a family of four can make no more than $41,856 per year. In many cities, especially those with higher costs of living like Los Angeles and Chicago, even $50,000-$60,000 is likely not enough to cover expenses for a family that size and pay for school lunches.
Public schools provide buses and textbooks to students free of charge, so why should a daily hot meal or two be any different? Studies have shown that well-nourished students learn more effectively than those who have empty bellies. I am more than willing to pay a few extra cents in school taxes if it means the future leaders of this country are able to understand “the new math” better as a result. (I’d even pay double if every third grader absorbed the difference between your and you’re!)
“If school lunches were free to everyone, no student would run the risk of going hungry or feeling embarrassed by circumstances outside of their control. ”
I am certain there are plenty of taxpayers who disagree with me that ending childhood hunger is the parents’ responsibility. But poverty and food insecurity are real, wide-reaching issues. By slightly lessening the burden on stressed parents who are struggling to feed their families, we are freeing them up to spend more time helping with homework or reading bedtime stories. It may also mean they can feed themselves after work.
Even for those who can pay, remembering to send lunch money or pack a hastily assembled lunch can be stressful. Let’s be real, hardly any of us are Instagram-worthy Bento box moms. If school lunches were free to everyone, no student would run the risk of going hungry or feeling embarrassed by circumstances outside of their control.
I vividly remember bringing my pizza pocket, chicken fingers with honey, or butter-soaked grilled cheese (it was the early 90s: healthy lunches be damned!) to the lunch cashiers and hearing them ask students in line if they were reduced or free lunch — and feeling their hot flush of shame that came along with their quiet “yes.” If lunch was free for everyone, those children wouldn’t feel othered for needing a helping hand. School can be brutal if you’re poor, fat, tall, short, or in any way different. Why not make it slightly easier by not shining a spotlight on the struggle? Universal free lunch would level the playing field.
It’s easy to chalk shaming up to “kids can be so cruel”, but it’s worth noting that most meal insecurity shaming doesn’t come from classmates. If a student is unable to pay, has accrued lunch debt, or has a low balance, some schools will stamp a child’s hand with “I need lunch money,” throw a meal away after it was served, serve students cold sandwiches instead of a hot lunch, bar the student from attending field trips or extra-curricular activities, and — in one heinous case — even threatened to send the child into foster care. And when cafeteria workers don’t participate in the shaming, they can be fired or quit in protest.
A whopping 75% of all school districts reported having outstanding lunch debt. Repayment of those funds is difficult and school districts often end up dipping into their general operating budgets to settle the books. Providing universal free lunch would eliminate the issue.
In New York City, the federal government is already offering universal free school lunches. A majority of the student body was eligible for assistance and offering the program to everyone keeps things simple. As a bonus, they’ve seen test scores improve.
Recently in California, 9-year-old Ryan Kyote used his allowance to pay off his classmates’ lunch debt. Even with reduced-cost lunches, many of his fellow third graders could not afford to pay. Ryan thought this was unfair and he summed up the issue far more succinctly than I can. “Nobody should have to buy their lunch at school. We should just have lunch together because we’re friends, and that’s what we do.”
Originally from Augusta, Georgia, Sara Jane now calls Chicago home, working in non-profit communications. She spends her free time walking shelter dogs, listening to podcasts, and burning with envy over Delta Burke’s wardrobe in early episodes of Designing Women. She and her husband Christian are the proud parents of a tortoiseshell cat named Didi.