Last Lunch

May 31

Written By Lauren Brown

This article was originally published in the Daily Post Athenian in Athens, Tennessee on May 18, 2023.

“Hey, Sloane’s mom …”

It’s a chorus I hear every Wednesday in the lunchroom at my child’s elementary school.

“Hey, Sloane’s mom, how do you spell I cup?”

“Sloane’s mom! I got all my math problems right!”

This week marked the last Wednesday I will ever hear that sweet symphony of second grade soundbites. I stopped to take a picture of the historic school doors before I walked into the cafeteria where I once had my last lunch as a second grader. I stood there a beat just to firmly ground myself in the moment — one of several “last moments” this week for a school that raised and nurtured so many of us.

My child is among the 90-ish second graders who have the prestige of being the last second grade class to graduate from Ingleside Elementary School. I did not hesitate to agree when she asked me earlier in the year if I would eat lunch with her every Wednesday. Not only were our days at Ingleside numbered, but also, I don’t kid myself thinking there are that many more days when she will want to be seen in my presence during a school meal.

I wasn’t able to make every Wednesday, but I am fortunate to have the flexibility to frequently spend 30 minutes of my day with a table of second graders. I’ve become a familiar face to these students because of my lunches, my role with Athens Area Council for the Arts, and with the Kiwanis Club of Athens. I am blessed to bring free arts education experiences to Ingleside and other area schools with AACA, and I, alongside many other Kiwanis Club members, make annual visits to read and donate books to all pre-K through second grade students in Athens City Schools.

I’ve become a familiar face and these precious children are eager to share their lives with trusted adults.

“Hey, Sloane’s mom. It’s my sister’s birthday!”

“Hey, hey — I caught a worm at recess.”

As I make my way to Sloane’s table, I soak in the greetings. Sometimes I just get a silent hug or fist bump. And frequently, the headline that follows “Hey, Sloane’s mom” is somber and grim. Sometimes I expect a nonsensical punchline, but get instead an emotional gut punch.

The kids at my child’s lunch table often include a child who is in foster care. At other tables — with kids who also engage with Sloane’s mom — there are children whose parents are incarcerated, children who may not have a bed (let alone a home), and children who are only able to eat because Athens City Schools provides their meals.

“Hey, Sloane’s mom,” a precious child hollered at me across the table while the eight of us were talking about what we are excited about for summer.

I caught the child’s gaze and smile. The shining eyes softened a moment and then began to glisten.

“Did you know my dad is dead?”

The cacophonous cafeteria suddenly seemed silent. It certainly was not; the child’s cohort had not heard, and they continued to holler, tease, and play across the table. I got quiet though and listened to the child share. I don’t know that particular child’s name and we’ve only had a few casual conversations before today. But, because I was there and I was present, I was able to receive the troubles and concerns of a tender child. And my gift was to offer in return a calm ear and a kind smile.

I played “quiet mouse, still mouse” then followed the 19 students to their classroom with a “bubble” on my lips. As I walked up the corridor between the library and the upper wing, I reflected on Mr. Ben Wilson, my principal whom I had seen the previous day during an awards ceremony, and thought about his calm ear and his kind (kindest!) smile. And Casey Idol. And Joyce Snyder. And Carol Russell. These educators have spent thousands of moments in that building offering a calm ear and a kind smile, and I firmly believe they have saved hundreds of lives along the way. Each teacher and faculty member in that building is a hero — I’ve simply named those who were there for both my and my daughter’s tenure; each is creating a space where our children are safe, taught, and loved.

As I dragged my feet making my exit, it hit me. It’s the last week of school.

What does that mean for our children who need a silent side-hug from someone else’s mom? What does that mean for our children who need a meal? And what will become of our kids who need the nourishment of a calm ear and kind smile?

That’s where we come in.

I quickly reminded myself that our community is fantastic at caring for its children. Our school systems have programs in place that keep kids engaged, learning, and fed through the summer. Many local churches and organizations such as the YMCA and TWU also provide meals for the summer.

There are vacation bible schools. E.G. Fisher Public Library packs the summer reading program with events and opportunities for all ages. Main Street Athens and TWU’s The LITE House offer summer enrichment programs. The YMCA cares for our babies all summer long. And Athens Area Council for the Arts offers a variety of summer arts camps.

I’m accustomed to promoting our arts camps as arts education opportunities, and I have plenty of data about how access to the arts has direct correlation to academic success, how it levels the playing field among socio-economic classes, and how it improves physical and emotional well being. I think and talk about that a lot.

But, as I left my last lunch at Ingleside, I found myself thinking that, if out of the five arts camps this summer … if the most significant thing to occur at The Arts Center is that tender children have access to a calm ear and a kind smile, then, that; that is enough for me.

Would you like to help care for the children of our community this summer? Consider these simple actions:

1. Donate time or money to organizations who feed, care for, educate, and inspire children. Many organizations, like AACA, offer need-based financial support for youth programs and donors can sponsor a child’s camp tuition. Also, general donations or membership (like monthly YMCA dues) help support the overall operation of these programs.

2. Call your city council members and county commissioners and thank them for funding organizations who feed our children, literally and metaphorically. (It is budget season — funding plans are public record.)

3. Volunteer with organizations like St. Paul’s Table Graces, Keith UMC’s Nourish One Child, the library, the museum, the arts council, or your church’s VBS. (Kindly note that many organizations may have a vetting process to clear volunteers who work with children.)

4. Look an educator in the eye — maybe hug them — and definitely say thank you.