No such thing as a free lunch?

Minnesota schools are poised to offer free lunches and breakfasts to all students under a bill passed by the state Senate on Tuesday. Star Tribune, March 15, 2023

I ate school hot lunches for all 12 years I attended school*. Hot lunches back in the 1960s cost 35 cents and a carton of milk was two pennies. Of course, most things were only about a tenth as expensive when I was a kid as they are today. Plus we didn’t have cell phone bills or streaming network fees to pay. 

Each month my parents would send a check for seven dollars with me to school so that I could purchase a small paper ticket with 20 punches for meals. Most of my friends who also lived on farms did the same. Some townies went home for lunch; and a rare few brought sack lunches. 

In general, I liked school hot lunches. We got a lot of hamburger gravy over mashed potatoes and overcooked veggies. Chicken nuggets had not yet been invented. One dish I did not like was a salmon loaf we kids all called “spider loaf” because of the black flecks in it, but we always had peanut butter sandwiches to fall back on when that was served. There was not today's concern over nutritional value, but I still managed to attain a height of 6’ 4” eating foods that were bad for me. I’d probably be seven feet tall had I had more fruits and fresh veggies.

There is now a bill in the Minnesota legislature that would make breakfast and lunch free to all public school students, regardless of income. There is some debate over it with criticisms that the program would be a give-away to families who don’t need financial assistance and that the additional expense could be better used elsewhere to improve schools. Points taken.

But I like the idea. A prime motivation for this action is to eliminate the stigma some kids face when their parents cannot or do not pay their lunchroom tabs. Harassment by school personnel (including stamping hands with “reminders" of unpaid bills) or being given a different meal when money is owed have not been uncommon. There are parents who will not fill out the forms needed to qualify for hot lunch. And so on. Shaming children for the behavior of parents is inexcusable.

Public education in Minnesota is, by law, free. We do not charge parents, regardless of income, fees for tuition, salaries, building upkeep, water bills, or administrative services. Nor do we charge for transportation to and from school nor library services nor textbook use. 

If we don’t charge rich folks for textbook use, why should we charge them for school meals? The argument can be made that good nutrition is an important factor in education. One of Maslow’s most basic necessities is the physiological need for food. Duh. And until the most elementary needs are met, nothing on the hierarchy above such as health, friendship, achievement, or problem-solving can happen either. Food is fundamental to success in both school and life.

A free education should include breakfast and lunch. We can’t afford not to provide it.

*I also ate school hot lunches when I was a district employee for many years. 

Dress for retirement success

At the end of this month, I will have been retired for four years. It seems impossible that time has flown by so quickly. I’d like to say I am fully adjusted to a life of indolence, but I still get the feeling that I should be doing something more meaningful while my physical and mental health are good enough to fool others.

One aspect of retirement I have mastered is how to dress for this life. While a good share of my clothes closet still holds never-worn sports jackets, dress pants, and neckties*, an increasingly large space is devoted to cargo pants and hiking shirts.

The two major advantages of being male are having the ability to pee standing up and wearing clothing with pockets so one does not need to carry a handbag. (Yes, I know other privileges come with the Y chromosome.) But I do love pockets.

Cargo pants, like smart phones, help slow the symptoms of encroaching dementia as one ages. I increasingly use my phone to find things I might otherwise forget - phone numbers, hotel room numbers, grocery lists, calendar events, etc. But on a more immediate basis, I use my cargo pants pockets to find stuff too.

My front left cargo pocket always contains my wallet, firmly zipped or velcroed shut. My front right cargo pocket always contains my keys, firmly zipped or velcroed shut. My regular front pockets contain my face mask, Swiss Army knife, pocket change, and foldable reading glasses, none of which, if lost, would result in tragedy. Back pockets are for maps and Kleenex packages.

Most of my cargo pants are hiking pants from REI or Eddie or Bean or the like, always purchased on sale. While I did buy my first pairs for hiking (I liked knowing my car keys would still be on my person at the end of the hike so I would not have to retrace my steps looking for them had they gotten loose), I now wear them on a daily basis. They are always clean, never tattered, and held in place with a belt, my shirt tucked in. So far, none of the clients I give rides to as a volunteer driver has complained about my dress code. I don’t sense any rude stares at the grocery store or Target. I've not yet had my picture on the People of Walmart blog. I guess I meet the haute couture standards of suburban Minnesota.

As my experience with retirement grows, I plan to offer more fashion tips for Blue Skunk readers. Hmmm, thinking about making a photographer's vest a wardrobe mainstay. Stay tuned…

* I am reluctant to get rid of my professional clothes. Will there come a day when I need them for some reason - a job when Social Security goes bankrupt, perhaps? 

In the four years I've been retired, I have traveled to:

• Netherlands, three times (boat bike trips)
• Belgium (boat bike)
• Alaska (cruise and Denali visit)
• Isle Royale (backpacking)
• Montenegro (hiking)
• Croatia (conference)
• Philippines, two times (hiking)
• Vietnam, two times (hking Sapa Valley, wedding, and bicycling)
• Thailand (biking and relaxing)
• Every state park in Minnesota (hiking challenge)
• Every national park in Utah (hiking)
• Superior hiking trail segements (backpacking)
• Philmont Scout Ranch (backpacking)
• Germany, Austria, Slovakia, Hungary (boat bike)
• Maine (hiking)
• Ecuador (Galapagos cruise and jungle stay)
• Apostle Islands and Door County, WI (hiking)
• Border Route Trail (trail maintenance)
• Black Hills (hiking)
• Trips to visit family in Atlanta and Kansas City, plus family weeks on houseboats, Lanesboro, Acorn Resort, etc. a few times each year.

Coming up:

• Boat/bike in Italy
• Hiking Yosemite. 

See, I've needed those hiking pants.

Is this blog written by AI?

The Navajos believe that only God is perfect and that humans cannot achieve the same perfect level. So they make sure to leave a little imperfection in anything they create. Usually, one has to look very close to find the imperfection, so it does not detract from the beauty of the item. It might be a loose piece of yarn, or a different colored bead. Amusing Planet

I sincerely doubt that any rational reader suspects anything I have written, especially my blog posts, was written by anything but a fallible human being. This can also be said of all the writers of books, blogs, and magazine articles. And especially newspaper opinion pieces. Why?

Perhaps I flatter myself but my writing contains one or more of the following characteristics, unlike what I would expect from ChatGPT, Bing, or other machine-based composition tools:

1. Errors. While unlike the Navajo weavers in the opening quote of this post, my errors are never intentional. But I don’t believe I have ever reread something I’ve written without wanting to make a correction. Spelling errors, cliches, non sequiturs, or just plain awkwardness haunt even this old English teacher’s work. Writing cannot be perfected, only made better.

2. Humor - usually self-deprecating. You can’t capture a person’s brain until you’ve in some way connected with their heart. In both speaking and writing, humor lights up the emotive response channel in the audience. Sad stories would do it as well, but that’s just not me. 

3. Personal experience. The professional writing I have done was based on problems and solutions to them that I had experienced first hand as a teacher, librarian, and technology director. I used little research and no formal experimentation. The thought of ever having to write a PhD thesis sends shivers up my spine. 

4. Compassion/empathy. Perhaps I’ve watched too many dystopian films in which the AI embodiment is out to wipe out humanity, so I find it difficult to think that HAL or The Terminator or even R2D2 would be able to identify with human joy, misery, or need. As far as I can tell only other human beings and dogs can feel for others.

5. Purpose. My writing has never been done to complete a school assignment. At least not for a hell of a long time. I write to amuse (myself primarily). I write to clarify my own thinking. I write to share solutions to problems that may be helpful to others. I write so I remember my challenges, my travels, my experiences with my friends and family. Sorry college professors, I don’t write for you. I’ll let ChatGPT do that for me.

A lot of fuss has been stirred up about AI writing/research tools’ impact on education. It’s a tempest in a teapot. If you are assigning writing that can be written by a computer program, you are making the wrong assignments. 

And students, write so that your own uniqueness shines through. Even if it means dropping a stitch now and again.