I consider myself blessed currently. I look in my fridge and I see a myriad of items, fresh broccoli, asparagus, an entire frozen chicken just waiting to be roasted, a wheel of cheese given to us from a friend. In short, we are lucky and blessed.
But it wasn't always this way for me, and this past Saturday after watching the documentary on Food Network I felt shamed for forgetting this fact.
Join me below for the self flogging.
I had a pretty happy childhood. Two parents who loved me and cared for me. They did everything they could to give me what I needed. It wasn't always the best of everything, but they gave me what they could, and I am appreciate of it.
That said however, I do remember periods of my childhood of going to school hungry. Sitting in class looking at the clock just waiting for lunch period to come.
I remember my mother working at Kentucky Fried Chicken as a shift manager...and eating left over chicken and slaw for 5 days straight.
I remember being a latch key kid, dad out of town, mom working, and me going to a neighbors house so I could get a can opener to eat some tuna I found hidden behind clutter in the pantry.
Those periods in my life didn't last forever. My father finally found work that paid moderately well and again I remember us having a Sunday roast again.
I'm writing this not really for anyone else, just more of a self reminder that hunger is real and painful. It can affect any single one of us, however, it is something that all of us can change and that includes myself.
I should feel shame that in a nation so plentiful that while one person like myself will sit at home tonight eating ground turkey burgers with fresh produce, a child will go without food and worry what they will have for breakfast tomorrow.
We should feel nothing but shame that this occurs.