When I was in graduate school at UCLA, one of my professors hosted his class as a social gathering. About 15 of us students met in an upstairs study lounge with comfortable furniture, and we brought food that we made from home to share. Sometimes, the professor would even bring a bottle of wine (we were all over 21), not to party, but to teach us everything from the biochemistry and manufacturing processes to the labeling and pricing (it was a business management course).
Everything, including the food and drink we consume, tells a story. Think about this in terms of indirect characterization: if the protagonist checks her phone, bursts into tears, and pulls out every pint of ice cream she has in the freezer, the author doesn't need to write, "He broke up with her." We get it.
Food also tells a story in the classroom. Many teachers don't allow it, which I understand, because many students are slobs and I don't like being surrounded by food waste or the bugs who feast on it. But what about the student who doesn't have time for breakfast, and comes to class hungry? How can we have a reasonable conversation about equality when some students are literally starving? And why, in the middle of California's ranches and farms that provide food for the whole nation, can't our students get fresh meat, produce, and orange juice?
Adults sometimes use words like "agency" and "empowerment" to describe how you might become more active in leading your lives. I think this starts with the basics, like trust and managing your own bodily functions. I hear people talk about how they miss meeting on campus, but I don't hear anyone saying, "You know, I really miss not being allowed to go to the bathroom when my bladder is so full that I feel like I might piss myself if there's a line by the time I finally get to the dirty bathroom."
Which brings me to the subject of classroom parties. I hate 'em. Who wants to go to a party that people have to attend under penalty of law? Who wants to go to a party where people are told they HAVE to bring something, and they HAVE to look like they're enjoying themselves, and they STILL have to ask permission to go to the bathroom?
Yuck. Plus you can't play music, and it still looks like a classroom. I'd rather celebrate Christmas at an airport.
However, I still remember that UCLA class as one of the best learning experiences I ever had, because of the atmosphere that the professor created. All of us made food, all of us felt like members of a gourmet club, and all of us created memories that helped us master ideas and succeed in business and in life.
So, years ago, when I was at Righetti High School, I started hosting "Cake Wednesdays" and end-of-semester "Fully Catered Learning Experiences." Wednesdays weren't just about cake - they were about taking one day during the week for (at least) one student to make and bring food for us to share, and for us to have a class period where we could think, talk, and work on those areas of our lives that needed our attention.
The Fully-Catered Learning Experiences became epic. Legendary. The stories I could tell. Multi-generational family recipes for tamales, fudge, ceviche, lasagna. The student who "baked in anger" and made the most amazing cookies any of us ever had. The student who made cookies for the first time - and then a second, third, and fourth because he wanted us to taste a better version. Teachers and students from other classes requested plates, and we still had massive amounts of leftovers. The students who hijacked a BBQ from the Ag department. The students who smuggled a BBQ onto campus and fed all of us, maintenance, and security before almost getting us all busted when administrators and police arrived.
It was pure joy, and every plate came with a story. And we can't do it this year, and I miss it.
However, we have an opportunity to do something different.
Today and tomorrow we will watch the movie version of Les Misérables - and your family is invited. Please bring whoever you like to the movie, and make your favorite snacks and dishes to enjoy while you watch. Be ready to introduce your guests, and tell us what you made to eat/drink and why.
I look forward to seeing you!
