((Sigh))
I baked and brought peanut-free, egg-free chocolate cupcakes to my son’s Halloween Potluck Party at school (note picture).
The party is over now. I’m still queasy. I’m still regretful. I suspect I did something wrong and humiliating, but total recall eludes me. Oh I recognize this! This is hate-myself-in-the-morning mode. This is a hangover.
In order to fully explain the dissonance torturing my mind now, I have to back up a little and explain how I got here.
After a long series of “conversations” with my son’s new school early this school year—read: before we would let him set foot in the classroom—we negotiated the following with regard to school celebrations:
• Total number of food events minimized to just a handful per year. Down from at least one per month!
• No food used in lessons or as incentive/reward.
• All food events held outside of the classroom.
• Birthday food banished. If parents bring b-day food, it is redirected back to the front office where it is handed out at the end of the day to consenting *parents* as they are leaving.
These are large changes for this school. Our new principal and teacher seem to be open to change, motivated to accomplish it, and capable of digesting negative feedback with a minimum of defensiveness. Obviously not all school personnel share these positive characteristics, however, our principal and teacher seem to, as demonstrated by the speedy resolutions of the few hiccups we’ve encountered so far. I am grateful.
Unfortunately, in my gratitude to finally be working with a school motivated to and capable of working with me (this is our third school in three years), I let my guard down. I forgot who and what I was dealing with.
You see our country’s schools suffer from a celebration addiction. Like an addict, they are well aware of the dangers of their habit, yet they continue to binge. They know full well that soliciting non-essential food onto campus puts an ever-increasing number of their students at serious risk. Yet, the parties are still added to the calendar.
Like an addict, they are capable of making a commitment to moderation or even abstinence one day, then breaking it the next. I have never once had a school flat refuse to sign our IHCP/504. In the end they usually come around (albeit kicking and screaming). I have, however, had a hell of a time getting any of them to actually honor it consistently and without resentment.
Like an addict, when confronted with their addiction, schools tend to respond first with denial, then by minimizing the problem, then with grudging promises to sober up, then a few falls off the wagon, followed by full blown belligerent defiance. “I will if I want to and you can’t stop me.”
Anyone who knows anything about addiction knows you cannot have just one drink with a drunk. You cannot teach moderation by example; not to an addict. Any consumption in their presence is approval.
I am passionate in my belief that the best solution to keep all food-allergic children (not just my own) safe and included at school is to celebrate without food. Yet, there I was a few days ago baking, decorating, and dispensing cupcakes like a good little enabler. You see, I have a few questionable habits of my own and I’ve noticed that I share these with many other food allergy parents.
Habit #1. I feel obliged to overcompensate wildly for the accommodations my food-allergic child is given at school.
I have been so grateful to our new school for working with us to the extent that they have, that I let that gratitude cloud my judgment into violating my own principles. This year’s Halloween party came up, (I knew it would because prior to enrollment I ask for and received a list of all food celebrations to be held this year) and I figured the least I could do was give a little, just this once, as the school has given SO much to us in the way of accommodation. I felt obliged to make up for the fact that I am a wet-blanket-demanding-critical-food-allergy-mom.
Oh, just bullshit!
You cannot simultaneously damn the parade and lead the marching band.
Well, you can try, but if you do you leave yourself with no credibility. When that Halloween potluck sign-up sheet went up on my son’s classroom door I should have stuck to my principles and brought non-food goodie bags or mini-books to share, then sat myself down and watched how the staff managed the situation.
Instead…I baked for everyone. Instead, I went into super-mom-helper mode. There I was holding my eight month old baby in one arm and dispensing apple juice to a line of (mostly disinterested) second and third graders with the other. All the while watching my son out of one eye to ensure he wasn’t spilled on or suckered into trying “just one” little bite of death from someone else’s plate.
I did these things while five teachers chatted it up around a buffet table sampling the offerings and paying no attention to the allergy issues/kids. Why the lack of attention? Plain and simple, and horribly obvious: because food allergy mom was there to pick up the slack. I, my husband, and one other mom (whose child is allergic to peanuts) were there providing not only food, but the necessary supervision around the allergy issues that comes with the food.
I minimized the seriousness of the food allergies by BRINGING NON-ESSENTIAL FOOD onto campus. Then, I relieved the teachers of their responsibility to deal with the inevitable consequence (RISK) of bringing non-essential food onto campus. After all my work negotiating a safer, more inclusive environment at school…I let the school off the hook.
This is craziness!
It makes no sense to advocate for safety then contribute to risk. I definitely have an obligation to support our school by giving of my time and effort. However, I have no obligation to approve, support, or facilitate any school event that might end in my child leaving in an ambulance. No food allergy parent does. If that makes me a “wet blanket” so be it.
Habit #2. If I don’t watch myself, I can allow my desperate desire to see my son “included” to become so overwhelming that it compels me to risk his future safety and the safety of other food-allergy kids.
What happens at the next potluck, if I’m not there or fail to notice as some unwitting teacher or parent-helper cross contaminates a serving spoon or an eating surface and my child (or someone else’s) is exposed to their allergen? The truth is, it does not matter whether you bring one “safe” cupcake for your child or dozens for everyone. What is safe for one child is not necessarily safe for another. Food is messy. Accidents and oversights happen. We, as food allergy parents know these facts better than anyone. Don’t we?
The way I chose to be involved in this school celebration was a mistake and I see many other food allergy parents making this mistake all the time. In our desire to see our children “included,” we are contributing to a general climate of risk at school. My involvement in this food event was, at best, tacit approval of its legitimacy and necessity. Neither of which exist. Schools do not need to celebrate any holiday at all and they certainly don’t need to do it with food. I bake for all and get the quick and pleasurable “fix” of seeing my child safe and included just as all the others are. For a change. But this fix comes at a high price that might prove deadly in the future.
You cannot simultaneously damn the parade and lead the marching band.
The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Food allergy community, we have a problem. It is our responsibility to lead by example and ensure ALL food-allergy kids are safe and included (not just our own). That can only happen by insisting on food-free celebrations. The holidays are coming. We all know what that means. Please join me over the next two months in advocating for food-free celebrations at school. The life you safe could be your child’s. Or mine.
Original publication date 11-2011 by Food Allergy Warrior on Blogger.com.
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