A Satire

If you have stumbled upon this blog, the following rather lengthy story might leave you scratching your head. It’s probably important for potential readers of this satire to know that I homeschool my children.

The leaders of the fledgling community were disturbed. Despite their firm belief in equality for all members, they had noticed a distinct difference in how the townsfolk chose to nourish their families. Some children were raised on inexpensive, filling fare, such as beans and potatoes. Others dined daily on lobster, asparagus, and caviar. There were parents who routinely popped frozen dinners in the microwave. Others cooked for hours, either because they enjoyed the meal preparation process or as a labor of love.

In dismay, the government leaders took note of the wide disparity in the apparent nutritional status of the community’s children. Some were quite thin. Others appeared to have overeaten on a regular basis. Some children were pale, while others had a healthy glow. A good many children could run and caper without difficulty, but there were those who hung back or seemed to lack the stamina to play.

Discussing their observations at the next counsel meeting, the leaders decided something had to be done. Obviously, some parents could not afford sufficient nutrition for their children. Others lacked knowledge regarding sound nutritional principles. Agreeing that every child was entitled to Free and Appropriate Nutrition, leadership quickly drafted a plan. Children over the age of five would be delivered, three times a day, to government-run nutrition centers. Here, government-employed, professional nutritionists would serve meals with the proper balance of calories, vitamins, minerals, and fiber. This balance would be based on the needs of the average child.

Parents were enthusiastic about this plan. No longer did they need to plan menus, cook meals or, more importantly, pay for food to nourish their children. They dutifully delivered their precious little ones to the public nutrition centers, trusting that the professionals who worked there were more capable than they. Besides, participation in this process was now required by law.

Soon, some parents began to notice disturbing trends. The health of children who entered the program with optimal nutritional status quickly declined until they appeared no healthier than the average child. Children who had been raised on fresh produce and whole grains were served canned vegetables and white bread, because these foods were deemed adequate for the average child. Parents who desired enriched diets for their offspring were told they needed to provide the extras themselves.

Children who began with health deficiencies sometimes improved a little, but it became clear their previous difficulties were the result of more than the food they had been served at home. Children with food allergies, diabetes, or other special nutritional needs were supposed to benefit from their own I.E.P. (Individualized Eating Plan), but their success depended heavily on the skill and interest of the nutritionist who administered the I.E.P., as well as the parents’ ability to advocate for their child. Although children with special nutritional needs were supposed to be integrated within the main group, their trays were a different color, so everyone knew who they were.

Feeling betrayed, a group of parents demanded accountability. Nutritionists and government officials agreed to test the health status of each child annually. Weight, blood pressure, endurance, and signs of nutritional deficiencies were recorded. ”Look!” they announced triumphantly. “The average, government-nourished child scores at the fiftieth percentile on our health assessment tests!” Without thinking too much about the logic behind such a statement, parents were satisfied for awhile.

More problems were identified, unrelated to food. Although the initial purpose of the nutrition centers had been healthful eating, much more than eating was taking place. The children often sang songs while waiting for their meals to be served. Some parents were concerned about the questionable lyrics contained in those songs.  Discipline was confusing, as aides who circulated the eating area had varying abilities and expectations. Cliques had begun to form. Aggressive children bullied timid children into giving away the more popular food items from their trays. Adherence to a strict schedule was a must, with participants beginning and ending their meals at the same times. Distractions caused many to be unable to finish their meals at the center, requiring them to take their food home to finish there. Children who had been taught to pray before their meals were not allowed to do so at the public nutrition centers, because it might offend the non-prayers.

Fed up with the way things were going (and pleased with the pun), some families quietly began keeping their children away from the nutrition centers, choosing to nourish them at home. As these parents suspected, the children blossomed when provided with a diet prepared especially for them, by a parent who was intimately acquainted with, and had a heartfelt interest in, their individual needs. Encouraged by the others’ success, more and more families began discreetly home-nourishing their own children. “I nursed my child, taught him to use a knife and spoon, introduced him to table manners, and prepared his meals from infancy,” reasoned one mother. “Why is it assumed that I suddenly became incapable of providing for my child’s nutritional needs when he reached the age of five?”

When the professional nutritionists finally realized what was happening, they were indignant. “How can mere parents nourish their children as well as we professionals?” they stormed at the government. “We demand enforcement of the mandatory nutrition laws!” Hoping to pacify nutritionists and parents alike, government officials declared that home-nourishment would be legal . . . but home-nourished children were to have their health status assessed annually and must provide the results of such tests to the same government program they were seeking to avoid.

Several notable things occurred over the next few years. The home-nourishment movement grew. More and more parents were opting to feed their children at home. These families were insisting their family lives were more stable, their relationships with their children more positive, and their children less stressed than when they were government-nourished. Of course, everyone was most interested in the children’s health status. The home-nourishing families were not surprised to learn that, while government-nourished children scored at the 50th percentile on standardized health assessments, children fed at home achieved averages in the 83rd percentile.

Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, the N.E.A. (National Eating Association) released a statement clarifying their own stance on the subject. They went on record stating, “Home-nourishment cannot provide children with appropriate nutrition.” Home-nourishing parents scratched their heads in puzzlement. Weren’t they doing just that?

Parents who provided for their own children’s nutritional needs chafed against being accountable to the very institution they sought to release themselves from. Whenever it was suggested that home-nourishing families be allowed to regulate themselves, government and the N.E.A. raised shocked eyebrows. “Sure, maybe YOU are doing a good job! How about all of those parents who might just CLAIM to be nourishing their children at home, but actually feed them solely on Twinkies and soda pop?” Reminded that most other aspects of parenting did not receive such government oversight, they refused to budge on the issue of home nourishment.

“No one checks to see if I provide my children with appropriate clothing for the weather,” one home-nourishing mother pointed out. “It’s assumed that I do, unless there’s a good reason to suspect differently. No one looks in to assess how I care for him when he’s sick. I don’t have to fill out reports evaluating my ability to bestow affection, encourage independence, or promote self-esteem. Why is the ability to feed my child assumed to be a mysterious skill that only a trained professional can accomplish?”

“Don’t we need trained professionals in our lives?” inquired her challenger. “I’ll bet you take your child to the dentist!”

“Yes,” the mother retorted, “I take my child to the dentist when professional help is necessary. I don’t keep one around to brush his teeth every day!”

Still, the majority of parents chose the government nutrition program for their children. Raised to think of that as the norm, it had simply never occurred to many to do anything else. Others looked forward to the reduction in their grocery budget as each child became of mandatory public nourishment age. Some had allowed themselves to be convinced they weren’t capable of planning menus for their own children. A few subconsciously appreciated being able to blame the government or the public nutritionists if their child experienced health challenges related to nutrition. It was common for those who chose government nutrition to scrutinize the home-nourishers. What about the socialization that occurs at the public eating places? Can your child really be properly socialized at the family dinner table?

And that is where that small community stands to this day.  Public nutrition centers have become so commonplace that those who don’t take advantage of the watered-down government menus are considered rebels, troublemakers, arrogant . . . or at least a little odd.

 

 

Disclaimer: I have friends who are teachers. My mother is a retired public school teacher. My beef is with an institution that has proven it works well for only a minority of children . . . not with the individuals involved in that institution. GHG