I\'m Summer, a mouthy, sarcastic bitch. I\'m passionate about natural birth, long term breastfeeding, and living naturally. I curse too much, love tattoos, and will some day be crushed to death by my book collection. I homeschool, dream of gardening, and swing to the left. 
Lunch, Elementary Style
We stood in a line, fidgeting as we waited to march through the open library, out the double doors, and down the sidewalk that would take us to the cafeteria.
It was an old building, dark red bricks that crumbled a little when hit with a ball. My mother told me it used to be the high school, before the fancy new building was built next to it. My great uncle told me it used to be the entire school, before a small building was set up to house the elementary kids. Now it was just a cafeteria.
We were always the last to eat. As we watched the younger students march past our door we began fussing more. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that we had to wait just because we were the biggest class. But that was lunch in a small school. The grade below us had eight students, below them there were only five. My class of thirty-two students was monstrous in size.
The cafeteria felt huge. The floor of the second story had been taken out years before, so looking up the ceiling seemed miles away. We filed in, our teacher leading us to the counter against the far wall. We collected our trays in perfect order, then moved on to our table. The teacher required us to stay in alphabetic order the entire time, something we never dared to deviate from. For 180 days of school lunch I sat between the same two kids. A short girl with long brown hair who had once been my friend, but now preferred the company of the bigger and meaner girl in our class. An overweight boy who used to play dinosaurs with me in kindergarten, back before it became taboo for boys and girls to play together.
The building was dark inside. A few windows lined the walls, but most were bricked in. The light red of the newer bricks stood out against the older, dark red bricks. The same ones used inside and out. The floor was charcoal gray tiles, dingy and dull from years of use. Light seemed to be sucked into those tiles, making the entire building feel dingy and gray. Five rows of dark green tables lined the floors, old metal folding tables covered with dents and rust spots.
All of the tables were full. The high-schoolers sat in the back, four grades packed into one table near the back door. The junior high were awarded a table near them. The other classes sat together, packing two or three grades into a table. But not my class. We had to sit alone, at our own table, year after year.
After eating we stood and marched back out, single file again, to the play area across from the doors. Our stomachs full of sub-par food, this was what lunch was really about. The moment when we could break free, run, climb, explore. Time to shake off the dim cafeteria, the crumbling bricks, and the repetitive order. Until the net day.
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This is another writing challenge for the Write-Of-Passage group. Today’s challenge is to describe your elementary school lunch.
Great post! I remember those days. I’m so glad my kids don’t have to go through this everyday.
Rana´s last blog ..We’re Home!
I had to sit next to the class clown for most of elementary. Alphabetical order can suck it.
I liked the visualization of the metamorphosis of the school over time. Nice job.
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Wow, your post brought back so many memories! I love the descriptions. Great job!
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Your teacher was hardcore. Alphabetical order all year, yikes!
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Summer Reply:
December 14th, 2009 at 6:57 pm
The poor teacher probably didn’t know any other way to handle us. LOL We were the largest class in school history!
Reading everyone’s lunchtime memories, I really don’t know how we all survived it!?!? Great descriptions, btw!
Liz@thisfullhouse´s last blog ..Writing Challenge #2: The Lunch Box – Hungary for Peanut Butter