Bento: Feeling Ashamed of Your Food
Bento: Feeling Ashamed of Your Food
Panel 1
[Image] An Asian boy sitting at a table. He is smiling and has his arms wrapped around a bowl, spoon raised to his mouth. In the background, a woman stands at a kitchen counter holding spoons over a couple of bowls.
[Caption] My mom used to make my lunches every morning.
Panel 2
[Image] A bento box, full of multiple types of rolls and skewers.
[Caption] They were magical. Made with care and love. Lunch time was awesome.
Panel 3
[Image] The Asian boy sitting at a table with three Caucasian boys. The Asian boy’s head is lowered, and he looks embarrassed. Two of the Caucasian boys are pointing at the bento box in front of the Asian boy. The third Caucasian boy is holding his nose.
[Caption] But as I got a little older, kids started picking on me.
Caucasian boy 1: Everyone come take a look at this!
Caucasian boy 2: Eww. What’s that black stuff? You eat that?
Caucasian boy 3: Your food stinks, eat somewhere else!
Panel 4
[Image] A closeup of a sandwich.
[Caption] I became ashamed of my lunch. I wanted a plain old PB &J sandwich like everyone else. *
*These weren’t banned when I was a child.
Panel 5
[Image] A darkened closeup of a backpack, with the bento box brightly showing, as if the backpack were x-rayed.
[Caption] I started to skip lunch
Panel 6
[Image] The Asian boy sitting alone on a curb outside, with the bento box in his lap, with his backpack next to him.
[Caption] I didn’t want my mom to find out, so I ate it on the way home.
Panel 7
[Image] The Asian boy holding his bento box and looking at it sadly. In the foreground is a trash can.
[Caption] Other times, when I couldn’t find a private place to eat, I would think of throwing it away. Never did, but I felt terrible.
Panel 8
[Caption] I now know how lucky I was to have my mom, who took the time to make healthy lunches. But as a child, on most days I wasn’t strong enough to not feel ashamed of my culture.
Full story
When I was child, my mom used to make my lunches every morning. Looking back, I can’t believe how lucky I was. As a Japanese family, these lunches were called “bento” and came packed with amazing bits of food. It was colourful, tasty, and a great surprise every time I opened them. Lunch time was my favourite time. Made with love and care, they were magical.
But as I got a little older, kids started picking on me. In my elementary school there were only a handful of people who were not white. My classmates began to pick on me during lunch:
“Everyone, come take a look at this!”
“Eww, what’s that black stuff? You eat that?”
“Your food stinks! Eat somewhere else!”Every time I opened my lunch, people would come take a look and ask questions. I didn’t want to be scrutinized like that. Other times it was just straight judgemental. I started hating lunch time. I became ashamed of my lunch. I wanted a PB&J sandwich just like all the other kids.
I started to skip lunch to avoid the questions and insults. At the same time, I didn’t want my mom to find out, so I started eating lunch on the way home. Other times, when I couldn’t find a private place to eat, I even thought about throwing it away. I never did it, but I felt terrible that I was even tempted.
I now know how lucky I was to have my mom, who took the time to make healthy lunches. But as a child, on most days I wasn’t strong enough to not feel ashamed of my culture.
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My mom used to make me bento, too. I thought it was awesome because kids would trade for it and I thought I meant they liked it. Turns out they were trading for it to show the other kids this “gross” lunch. I know make bento that my husband proudly takes to work.
What? That sucks >_<! I'm at high school now and whenever I look at my lunchbox I fantasise about having a bento. Seriously.