Matthew Strader, Food Box Challenge Participant
Day one. Lesson one.
I counted slices of bread....
That was lesson number one.
I admit that one of my fellow media writers made the same observation, so I hope I'm not stealing his idea for his entry, but I can't get over the impact of that single act.
You see, my wife freezes bread.
It annoys the heck out of me.
Frozen bread when reheated, defrosted, fried, however you prepare it, tastes different and I don't like it.
But my wife won't waste anything.
I never really considered that waste. I always buy bread, we use as much as we use, and if a few slices go bad, well, the seagulls at the dump are getting something tasty...right?
I know. The answer is no. And I should hang my head.
What's hit me during the first 24 hours of my challenge is the extreme nature of the situation I'm in.
It made me realize that we all look up to something. We all aspire to something. I have friends who have more wealth than I do, and I feel sometimes that my shoes could be shinier, my car could be faster, my house could be bigger. And maybe, when you live in the privilege that so many of us enjoy, you begin to forget just what a privilege our life is - how much we truly have to enjoy.
And my life is certainly enjoyable.
I have a house, I have a beautiful wife (yeah, that one's a miracle), I have a beautiful daughter (a bigger miracle) and we can provide our child what she needs.
I have never in my life counted slices of bread to see how many meals I was going to be able to get out of a single loaf.
'If I eat two slices for breakfast, and two slices with my dinner (a can of beans) will I make it through the week?...'
I have always bought bread concerned only with the price.
'It's two bucks, who cares if I have to throw out some of it...'
Now I know who in my community cares, and how ignorant that thought has always been.
You will hear all of the participants speak of how difficult it was to make that $8 into something substantial. It had to become something that would last the week.
I will probably make it through the week with my bread.
Because on Wednesday, when it passes it's 'best before' date, I'll throw what's remaining in the freezer, and I'll kiss my wife, and promise to listen to her advice from now on...
Editorial note: At the launch party hosted by CCS this morning, there was some discussion about professional commitments and whether they should be violated. I'd like to note that immediately after the launch party was my manager's 50th birthday party, attended by nearly all the staff within our division, including a number of executives from my company.
The cake was vanilla, partially because I have an allergy to chocolate, and the girl's in my office are too nice to me.
I wore my T-shirt, and I explained to everyone at the party that I was participating in CCS' Food Box Challenge for Hunger Awareness Week.
I refused the food and the cake, and I drank water.
My colleagues poked fun at me but they were proud of me.
And it was a conversation starter for many of the tables...I challenge others to make it throughout the week, no matter their commitments.
It was worth every cold, bland sip of water.
That was lesson number one.
I admit that one of my fellow media writers made the same observation, so I hope I'm not stealing his idea for his entry, but I can't get over the impact of that single act.
You see, my wife freezes bread.
It annoys the heck out of me.
Frozen bread when reheated, defrosted, fried, however you prepare it, tastes different and I don't like it.
But my wife won't waste anything.
I never really considered that waste. I always buy bread, we use as much as we use, and if a few slices go bad, well, the seagulls at the dump are getting something tasty...right?
I know. The answer is no. And I should hang my head.
What's hit me during the first 24 hours of my challenge is the extreme nature of the situation I'm in.
It made me realize that we all look up to something. We all aspire to something. I have friends who have more wealth than I do, and I feel sometimes that my shoes could be shinier, my car could be faster, my house could be bigger. And maybe, when you live in the privilege that so many of us enjoy, you begin to forget just what a privilege our life is - how much we truly have to enjoy.
And my life is certainly enjoyable.
I have a house, I have a beautiful wife (yeah, that one's a miracle), I have a beautiful daughter (a bigger miracle) and we can provide our child what she needs.
I have never in my life counted slices of bread to see how many meals I was going to be able to get out of a single loaf.
'If I eat two slices for breakfast, and two slices with my dinner (a can of beans) will I make it through the week?...'
I have always bought bread concerned only with the price.
'It's two bucks, who cares if I have to throw out some of it...'
Now I know who in my community cares, and how ignorant that thought has always been.
You will hear all of the participants speak of how difficult it was to make that $8 into something substantial. It had to become something that would last the week.
I will probably make it through the week with my bread.
Because on Wednesday, when it passes it's 'best before' date, I'll throw what's remaining in the freezer, and I'll kiss my wife, and promise to listen to her advice from now on...
Editorial note: At the launch party hosted by CCS this morning, there was some discussion about professional commitments and whether they should be violated. I'd like to note that immediately after the launch party was my manager's 50th birthday party, attended by nearly all the staff within our division, including a number of executives from my company.
The cake was vanilla, partially because I have an allergy to chocolate, and the girl's in my office are too nice to me.
I wore my T-shirt, and I explained to everyone at the party that I was participating in CCS' Food Box Challenge for Hunger Awareness Week.
I refused the food and the cake, and I drank water.
My colleagues poked fun at me but they were proud of me.
And it was a conversation starter for many of the tables...I challenge others to make it throughout the week, no matter their commitments.
It was worth every cold, bland sip of water.
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