By The Toledo Tribune
Now, I ain’t one to throw a fit over a government decision, mostly because I’d wear myself out before lunchtime tryin’ to keep up with ‘em all. But I reckon when Washington starts talkin’ about cuttin’ funds for school meals, it might be worth leanin’ in to see just what brand of wisdom they’ve cooked up this time.
Word has it, though not yet stamped with the official seal of doom from the White House, that the powers-that-be have gotten it in their heads to scale back the money that helps put food on school trays. Programs that once sent fresh apples and crisp greens from local farms to the bellies of schoolchildren are now on the chopping block. Whether this is a masterstroke of fiscal responsibility or just another case of government fiddlin’ while Rome burns is up for debate.
Now, I got no quarrel with the idea of mindin’ the public purse, but when the first belt to be tightened is the one holdin’ up a child’s britches, a man can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, we’ve got the whole thing backwards.
A tale as old as Jamestown
This ain’t the first time Americans have had to reckon with the question of who ought to be fed and who ought to do the feedin’. The earliest settlers of Jamestown started off with what some might call a socialist experiment—every man, woman, and otherwise was expected to work together, tilling fields and tending to crops for the good of all. A fine idea on paper, but the trouble was that half the folks involved figured “work” was something other people did while they sat back and admired the view.
The so-called “gentlemen” of the colony, bred up in the notion that labor was for lesser folk, took to idleness like a duck to water, and soon enough, the whole lot of ‘em were starving. Captain John Smith, who had more sense than patience, put an end to the foolishness with a simple decree: “He that will not work, shall not eat.”And suddenly, them aristocrats found themselves in the fields, hands blistered, backs bent, and bellies empty enough to reconsider their previous arrangements.
It was a fine lesson, and one that stuck—at least for a while. But time has a way of smoothing over the rough edges of hard-earned wisdom, and here we are again, askin’ ourselves who should work and who should eat.
The Modern Mess
Now, I ain’t suggestin’ we send schoolchildren into the fields with a plow before they get their arithmetic straight, but the larger question looms: is it time to take a fresh look at who we support and how we do it? Should every man, woman, and child be entitled to a hot meal, or should they have to earn it somehow? And if so, how do we decide who’s too young, too old, or too hard-pressed to do the earnin’?
Folks say we’ve built a welfare system so broad and generous that some take advantage, sittin’ back while others pull the plow. Others argue that without it, too many would be left to starve, through no fault of their own. The truth, as always, probably lies somewhere in the middle—just out of reach of the folks who make the rules.
And so we wait. The White House has yet to confirm just how deep the knife will cut, but in the meantime, communities brace themselves. Will the funding for school meals be swept into the same bucket as student grants, shuffled off to some new department, or disappear altogether? No one seems to know for certain, least of all the ones doin’ the cuttin’.
A final thought
It’s a strange thing, watching history tiptoe back toward its old mistakes, like a fella who’s forgotten why he quit whiskey in the first place. Perhaps it’s time we ask ourselves whether we still hold to Captain Smith’s philosophy, and if so, what it truly means.
Because one thing is certain—whether by the hands of kings, congressmen, or common folk, the work of feedin’ a nation is never finished. And if we’re not careful, we may just find ourselves learnin’ Jamestown’s lesson all over again.
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