Dear fellow parents

Before my kids started school, before every gathering, before play-dates and any other situation where there will be food and people present, I reiterate to my children that we don’t judge. We don’t judge people’s body shapes or what they wear and we certainly do not judge what they eat, even if it seems weird or gross.

There were a few fumbles along the way, but by the time they started school, they got it. My children know not to make other people uncomfortable about their food choices. They’re to lead by example. To only ask what is in the food if they’re going to eat it. There’s this massive assumption that vegans are by nature judgemental. I make sure that my children will never be those vegans.

But what about you, omnivorous parent? Are you teaching your child the same values? Are you teaching your child to keep their eyes on their own plate?

Let me share an exchange I had last night with my daughter.

“Please don’t pack me olives, Mum. <My best friend> makes fun of me.”

“Have you told her to stop?” I ask.

“I tell her to stop and she does, until next time. Then she does it again.”

So I went ahead and added olives to the growing list of foods my children are too embarrassed to take to school, because no, this isn’t the first time it’s happened and no, it’s not this one kid and her one little friend.

This is a public school in a multicultural community. There are kids with salami eating side-by-side with kids eating sweet rice balls across from kids eating cold boiled eggs. Even my mum spoke to me about how cruel it was to single out kids based on what they ate, with the example of how Italian families used to be mocked when she was in school, and we were in a tiny town with one lonely Chinese restaurant and wall-to-wall whiteness as far as the eye could see. It’s not a new issue and it’s not a particularly hard thing to teach, yet here we are.

I don’t care what you pack in your child’s lunch box and if you’re too poor to pack anything mate we’ve all been there, I will send extra food for your child so they don’t go hungry. I’m here for you. We’re parenting together on this journey. But please, teach your child to keep their eyes on their own lunchbox with its sliced corpse and solidified bovine breastmilk sandwich, instead of hacking on my kid with her salad and olives.

We’re all a bit weird. We’re all vulnerable. We all consume things that others don’t like, foods that smell funny, fruit that looks weird. Sometimes we even eat things and we’re not really sure what it’s made out of. If someone wants to find a reason to make fun of someone else, they will. There’s no top tier of normal where a person can hide from scrutiny. Instead, we teach our babies to love each other and speak respectfully. We teach our tiny humans to celebrate differences and find commonality and focus on kindness.

If you’ve gotten this far, please take it one step further and talk to your kids. Tell them to keep their eyes on their own plate. Thank you xx

Miriam Cumming is an author, wife, and witch; mother to three school-aged goddesses. When she’s not bogged down in the mundane, she’s crafting elaborate fantasy worlds and imagining new antagonists for her characters to face off against. Miriam dislikes tight clothing, cantaloupe, and loud noises, and you can find her in the kitchen making another cup of coffee. If you’re quick, she’ll make you one too.