Twelve. That is the number of people who can fit at a lunch table in my school cafeteria. Twelve. Yet, despite the small number of seats, I can sit down to eat my lunchtime bagel and be sitting in between the class valedictorian and a kid who is struggling to pass all of his classes. Or, I could end up next to a black atheist and across from a strong Hispanic Catholic. Like most high schoolers, I eat with the same twelve people every day. Yet, the diversity at my table is far from that of an ordinary high school lunch group.
Most people say my lunch table is a “hot mess.” In both high schools I have attended, students organize themselves in the cafeteria subconsciously by race, class and GPA with few exceptions. When people see my lunch table it confuses them. It’s out of the ordinary; to them it just doesn’t make sense.
However, to me it makes much more sense than sitting with a bunch of people who are practically mirrored reflections of myself. I have honestly learned more about different cultures in the US from that table than I ever learned in a classroom. I have now tasted a true Mexican tamale, learned what it takes to maintain a black girls hair, and have been taught how to properly pronounce the word “swagger”.
But most touchingly, I have learned the trials that face each culture. I have gotten a taste of the prejudice they still face today. I have begun to break down the walls I had in my brain that I subconsciously put up. All this from a little daily exposure to eleven people.
My lunch table is so much more than a place to eat. It has taught me a lesson about prejudice and stereotypes, and has opened my mind to a whole world full of people; a lesson I hope to keep with me wherever I end up in life.
Most people say my lunch table is a “hot mess.” In both high schools I have attended, students organize themselves in the cafeteria subconsciously by race, class and GPA with few exceptions. When people see my lunch table it confuses them. It’s out of the ordinary; to them it just doesn’t make sense.
However, to me it makes much more sense than sitting with a bunch of people who are practically mirrored reflections of myself. I have honestly learned more about different cultures in the US from that table than I ever learned in a classroom. I have now tasted a true Mexican tamale, learned what it takes to maintain a black girls hair, and have been taught how to properly pronounce the word “swagger”.
But most touchingly, I have learned the trials that face each culture. I have gotten a taste of the prejudice they still face today. I have begun to break down the walls I had in my brain that I subconsciously put up. All this from a little daily exposure to eleven people.
My lunch table is so much more than a place to eat. It has taught me a lesson about prejudice and stereotypes, and has opened my mind to a whole world full of people; a lesson I hope to keep with me wherever I end up in life.
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