Your Cupcake is Oppressing Me

I have a few things to say to the parents of non-food allergy kids.

Not the parents with a whit of empathy and a modicum of ability to set their egos aside for half a second and appreciate the implications of sending a food allergic child to school. Not you. I love and appreciate you, kind friends and generous strangers.

I'm talking about YOU. The other ones. The ones that Tracey Bailey had to frog-march her six year old daughter past on the way to her 1st-grade classroom as you protested the accommodations put in place by the school to keep her daughter ALIVE. Accommodations like hand washing (oh the horror, fewer colds and flu!) and eliminating specific allergens from the classroom (but my snot-nosed, sticky-handed brat won't eat anything besides X, Y, or Z!).

Yeah, you. You and all the parents like you. You flat-earther, nay-saying, willfully ignorant hypocrites. I have some things to say to you.

I don't bring e-coli or hand guns to your kid's classroom, perhaps you could show my family the same sort of consideration?
Are you SO nit-witted and self-centered that you really can't understand what LIFE THREATENING means. Let me put a fine point it. Food allergy parents are not asking you to avoid bringing non-essential food, or in some cases a specific food, into the classroom because of a voluntary dietary, religious, or moral choice. They are NOT referring to a food sensitivity (my kid becomes a shit after too many cookies) or a food intolerance (my kid gets the shits after too many cookies).

Food allergy parents are telling you that bringing cake frosting, ranch dressing, peanuts, tree nuts, or some other specific food into the classroom (either intentionally or accidentally) could kill or maim their child. Dying of anaphylaxis is painful and terrifying, and it will be no consolation to me whatsoever if YOUR kid is traumatized forever by watching my child swell up, turn blue, and suffocate to death.

There is no "right" to peanut butter, Goldfish® crackers, cupcakes, ranch dressing, fish sticks, or any other specific food.
This "right" that you're sniveling about losing does not exist. Particularly at school. Once you leave your house in the morning the welfare of the public and your social contract to respect that welfare kicks into gear. Your kid is not entitled to [insert specific food here] when it interferes with my child's actual, legitimate right to LIFE. Your kid is entitled to a "free and appropriate public education" in the "least restrictive environment" possible. So is mine. Despite his disability, my child is entitled to the exact same education that his school provides to your kid. This means, and yes it really does, that my child's right to STAY ALIVE and not BE MADE A PARIAH at school trumps your kid's "right" to a cupcake. Deal with it.

No STUDENT is entitled to a birthday party at school.
No one produces a child and sends them to school to provide you with a convenient captive audience for your kid's birthday. Get over yourself. Shell out for a real party. On your own time. At some place other than school. Like your home or Chuck E. Cheese® or an amusement park or anywhere else. Believe me, your "guests" would appreciate the opportunity to opt their child out of your poor judgment and lack of consideration.

Here's a newsflash for you, sitting on your ass passing out treats in your kid's classroom does not count as "parental involvement." It just makes you an embarrassment and an annoyance to conscientious, hard-working, education-focused parents everywhere who take time out of their work day or away from their small children at home to provide much needed (and actual) help and oversight in our nation's classrooms. Pick up a pair of scissors, a marker, a book--anything related to EDUCATION--and do something worthwhile with it.

To borrow a phrase from an online acquaintance, if you're a "Foodie mom with a Betty Crocker® complex," get a grip on yourself! You are behaving like an expulsive twit every time you kamikaze your kid's classroom with your latest creation. Write a cookbook, start a catering business, get some therapy. Whatever. Just channel your neurosis and narcissism someplace else.

Save your bullshit about how no one had food allergies when you were a kid.
Well now they do. To the tune of about 1:13 children in the United States. That's roughly 8%. Let's put that in perspective, shall we? About 4.8% of Americans are Asian, about 16% are Hispanic, and about 12% are African American.¹ For those of you too slow to pass a statistics class in college, I will help you interpret these numbers. This means that in a typical school you're likely to have at least one, maybe two, and possibly three allergy kids in each classroom. We have so many children with food allergies in our country that the demographic has begun to more closely resemble a race than it does a medical condition.

Food allergy families may be a minority, but we are a BIG minority.
Until now we have been mostly polite in demeanor and reasonable in our requests. That will change.  How long do you think we are going to sit back and let your ersatz "right" to a cupcake, a peanut butter sandwich, or parties in the classroom put our children at risk?  It's only a matter of time before we become a BIG, SCARY, RESOURCE-SUCKING minority that demands very expensive school nurses or health technicians follow each of our children around to ensure their safety at school. I can think of better things to spend our education dollars on, can't you?

Lastly, I am officially sick of hearing the word "tolerance" thrown around.
We are all so very mindful to avoid disparaging others in regard to individual differences in intelligence, ethnic identity, sexual identity, sexual preference, parenting style, hair style, shoe size, (and on, and on...). After all, it really isn't polite to tread on anyone's precious self-esteem. Imagine the scars! So, how about after you're done congratulating yourself on your liberal-mindedness or your ability to "love your neighbor" you also consider what a priceless opportunity you're being presented with to teach your child about tolerance, empathy, and the non-toxic consequence of engaging in a tiny shred of shared sacrifice for the good of another when you are asked to accommodate a food allergic child at school?  It won't kill you, or your kid, and it might even save my child's life.

1. http://quickfacts.census.gov/qfd/states/00000.html.

Original publication date 10-2011 by Food Allergy Warrior on Blogger.com.