by Lola Sieren

Created on: November 30, 2008   Last Updated: October 09, 2010

It was 1976 in the metropolis of the beautiful capital of Austin, Texas, where the days were hot and long and most schools were not air conditioned. Lunch and a well-deserved recess were a respite for students and teachers, unless the teacher had that onerous duty called lunch duty. Lunch duty is a necessary evil for most elementary school teachers and I was no exception in believing that. However, our young charges usually were very well behaved since they were allowed to leave the lunchroom as soon as they finished eating, which in itself was a progressive rule even back then.

No one had to wait for the entire class to complete their consumption of starch and sugars. The children ate, emptied their trays and sauntered off to recess. Generally, good manners were the norm. Of course, children were encouraged to eat as much of their lunch as they could.

One day on my lunch watch, I noticed young Peter just sitting there looking at his warm, crispy taco. This child was thin and pale looking and was in my class.

"Peter," I asked as I walked up to him. "Why are you not eating your lunch, honey?"

"Well," the poor dejected child murmured, "It's Friday and I am not supposed to eat meat. I'm Catholic."

"Hum," I thought to myself. "This doesn't seem fair. I am a Catholic, but I know that children need sustenance and especially this child."

I even thought back to my Catechism to see if I could remember a rule about kids and not eating. I didn't think they were supposed to fast and abstain. Maybe they weren't...."

I ambled throughout the kitchen and came back out to the cafeteria with a smile on my face. Now, mind you, I don't remember this story really. It's forty-year old Peter who is telling me the story via email. But, Peter says, I walked right over to him and informed him that he was able to eat his taco.

"It is okay, Peter. Why, I just talked with your mom and she gives you permission to eat the taco."

Now, some thirty years later I hear that Peter was scolded for eating meat on Friday and, no, Mrs. C. did NOT call to get permission! Thankfully, Peter still thinks of me as one of his favorite teachers and his forgiving mother does as well. Ouch! I'm sorry. I thought I knew everything, but you know those young twenty somethings. . . . I cringe with empathy as I think of that dear child eating the taco because his teacher said it was all right. Isn't it amazing that Mrs. Flores didn't call and complain?

Times were different then. Teachers were honored and respected. Maybe a little disappointment on the parent's part, but not enough to cause a ruckus.

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