By Christy S. Martin, Ed.D.
School began early this week in East Tennessee, and the first days have made one thing painfully clear in our community: the era of universally free school lunches is over.
For the past two years, many public schools served free meals to all students under federal programs put in place during the COVID-19 emergency. That broad funding ended when Congress declined to extend the required federal support in the large spending package signed into law in March 2022. Since then, families have been told that students must qualify through the usual application process to receive free or reduced-price lunches. The new reality finally landed this week when school cafeterias began enforcing the standard meal payment rules once again.
The transition has exposed gaps in understanding across families and students about how school meal programs are funded and administered. Social media posts amplified the changes and fueled anxiety: districts are short-staffed in many operational roles—teachers, bus drivers, assistants, and maintenance crews—and the loudest immediate complaints have centered on the need for students to pay for lunch. Some high school students reported seeing peers go without full meals. In reality, schools provide an alternative sandwich lunch with chips, fruit, and milk for students who cannot pay and who have not yet been approved for meal assistance, but that alternative can single out students who lack funds. For many teenagers, the stigma of being identified as unable to pay is more painful than temporary hunger.
Understanding the practical cost helps explain the strain families are facing. In my district, a high school lunch currently costs $3.00 and breakfast $1.75. That means a student who eats both meals needs roughly $5.00 per school day. Adding school supplies, uniforms or clothes, transportation costs, and other incidental expenses can quickly overwhelm household budgets that adapted to free meals during the pandemic. Some schools that were previously designated as eligible for universal free meals no longer meet that threshold, even though local economic conditions haven’t substantially improved. Consequently, food insecurity risks rising among families who had relied on school meals as a predictable daily support.
The temporary pandemic relief funds—such as the CARES Act allocations—provided a lifeline that districts used to address urgent needs. Those funds were directed toward staff bonuses for underpaid support workers, facility repairs, technology upgrades, and instructional materials. Local leaders now face the expiration of that flexibility: funds from federal pandemic relief must be obligated by September 30 of this year. When one-time funds end, so do the programs and supports that depended on them. The lesson from that experience is clear: public schools need consistent, predictable funding to sustain basic services that students and families rely on every day.
Communities can take immediate steps to help. Last weekend’s back-to-school sales and tax-free events offered an opportunity to stock up on essentials. I purchased dozens of boxes of crayons and glue sticks to bolster supplies at one of our highest-need schools. Many parents, neighbors, churches, and civic groups can make similar contributions—donating school supplies, contributing to cafeteria meal funds, or volunteering time in classrooms and cafeterias can fill urgent gaps. Schools also need advocates: call, write, and meet with school boards, local elected officials, and state representatives to press for adequate school funding and consistent support for student nutrition programs.
Beyond immediate giving, there is a deeper principle at work. Education is primarily governed and funded at the state and local levels, but the expectation that children attend school is a societal requirement. If we require school attendance, it follows that we should ensure students have the basics they need to learn—sufficient food, functional facilities, safe transportation, and adequate instructional materials. The priorities reflected in household budgets are a signal of values; public budgets should reflect the same commitment to children and families.
I applaud the compassion shown by young people who notice and worry about their peers. The broader community should match that concern with action. Schools are our most important local public resource; when they lack funding for essentials like meals and supplies, students, teachers, and staff are the ones who pay the price. Now is the time to support public education with donations of supplies, volunteering, and sustained advocacy for better funding. No child should be hungry at school, and addressing that need is both a practical necessity and a moral obligation.
About the author
Christy Martin recently retired after more than 35 years as an educator across K–12 and post-secondary settings, and she also served as a coordinator for programs supporting youth aging out of foster care. She writes from first-hand experience in education and social services and welcomes thoughtful feedback. Contact: [email protected]. Social profiles: Facebook: Christy Martin; Twitter: @ChristySMartin1; LinkedIn: Christy Martin, Ed.D.
This article was originally published by The Learning Counsel, a research institute and news media organization focused on the shift in education toward digital curriculum.