Home Schooling

I tried to hide my grumbling when I first read the social studies assignment my 7th grader brought home. He's learning about the Great Depression, and he was charged with preparing one meal within a budget that matched the period. In keeping with our family of five, he had to plan a meal for under $4.50.

As a former social studies teacher, I appreciated experiential learning. However, when I considered the fact that I basically keep to that budget for my own lunches--my measly crackers in a baggy didn't do the trick today--I hated the idea of taking on hardship for dinner too. It felt like an invasion of our home. It felt more like Catholic guilt than historical enrichment. I felt put upon. I also knew that we would not skip it. Of course, in the end, one night just isn't that bad.

The Great Depression was a dark time indeed, but a homemade batch of pasta pomodoro was bright on the plate. It's true that some felt hungry less than an hour after dinner (I can hear the seventeen-year-old rower rummaging through the kitchen right now), but I was glad for the chance to teach my son to chop an onion and peel garlic among other kitchen tricks. 

The conversation over the table about what cuts we'd have to make if conditions were similar to the 30s reminded proved that my kids are more grateful for their quality of life than I give them credit. Cost of living aside, the faces across me at that table hold more value than what I ate for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. In this brief experiment, it was a luxury that I could recognize the riches on and off the plate.

And as the lesson sinks in, now a day later, I'm ashamed to think of how easy it is to reach for nutritious food from our cabinet at a moment's notice, and given my resistance to the lesson, it's plain to see that I still have a lot to learn.