More than 50 million Americans struggle to put food on the table. Of those affected, nearly 17 million are children. That’s nearly 1 in 4.

15.5 million kids in America live in poverty. 20.1 million rely on food stamps to get their daily nutrition.

Believe what you will about “statistics”. The source for this information just happens to be U.S. Dept. of Agriculture, the U.S. Census Bureau, and the Food Research and Action Center.

The place to confirm or counter them is at the Hunger Facts Page, not here. I will not have it. Not today.

As far as I’m concerned, ONE child going hungry… anywhere… is too many.
But where to ever start? 17 million children is a staggering number, especially when all of my time seems to be focused on feeding the TWO that belong to me… But at the end of the day, there are still children going to bed hungry and I’m no less frazzled from having to force “one more bite” into my kids.

As my son would say, “It’s so not fair!” To which I always reply, “Son, you have NO idea what not fair means…”

The truth is there are a lot of ways, big and small, to help end childhood hungry…. Not at my house. That problem is all my own. But everywhere else where there are children who actually want (and need) to eat.

It does not get much simpler than Share Our Strength’s Dine Out For No Kid Hungry event.

This week (September 18th-24th) is National Dine-out to End Childhood Hunger. To participate, all you have to do is… dine out!

Thousands of restaurants of every type all over the country are helping to raise funds that can ultimately help families put food on their tables and give kids the much needed nutrition to keep them healthy and focused. There’s a participating restaurant on practically on every corner in my neighborhood.

Find one close to you, too and help put an end to childhood hunger!

When Mike and I first considered the idea of having kids, I suggested the idea of adopting a child. He was adopted as a baby and has always been so comfortable with the experience… not that he had much say in the matter or known any different.

He grew up in a loving home with a wonderful family. “You grew in my heart, not in my belly,” his mother still says to him, never hiding the circumstances of his birth.

She talks sweetly about the day she first saw him as “love at first sight” and “meant to be”. She makes no apologies about my husband being her favorite. It’s really sweet until I realized that this probably makes me the “lesser half”… (snort)

I’ve heard story after story of holidays, family vacations, a childhood filled with happy, happy memories… all predicated on the idea that he had been “rescued” by adoption, how lucky he is to have such a great family. It made sense to me that he would want the same for another child, but his response was something that I cannot even begin to wrap my head around.

Having his own children was his chance to find this part of him that he’s always missed and always longed to know.

On a certain level, I understand what he means. If you have ever met my parents or my sisters, then you know that I could never fully comprehend it. There is no doubt What. So. Ever. that we belong together. So steeped am I in my family’s history and drama and traits, that it’s difficult to grasp what it is to live without such an irrefutable feeling of “belonging to these people”…

While no one has ever hidden the fact that Mike was adopted, as far they’re concerned, he is theirs and they are his. End of story. Happily ever after.

Or is it?

There’s another story that I am curious to know.

Who is the woman who gave up my husband so many, many years ago? What led her to give up the baby she loved enough to carry to term? What has her life been like ever since?

There are moments when this feels like such a great unknown, fraught with far too many complicated emotions. Mostly, it’s of little consequence to our daily life together. Yet, sometimes, I wonder… and I know my husband does too.

Unfortunately, it’s not my story to tell. I can only be supportive  of whatever he decides.

———————-

This post was inspired by The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in theDecades Before Roe v. Wade by Ann Fessler.

An adopted child herself, Ann Fessler embarked on an assignment to uncover hundreds and thousands of stories of the women who were forced to surrender children between 1945 and the passage of Roe v. Wade in 1973.  It’s an astonishing and painful read.

Today, Fill the Backpack 2011 comes to a close and the LAST day to enter our giveaway of a backpack overstuffed with over $750 worth of Back to School goodies.  I’m drawing my winner tonight and she (or he) will be notified over the weekend.

Thank you for all of your comments, tweets, and “likes”… and thank you to our fantastic sponsors for supporting this fantastic campaign and our non-profit partner, Communities in Schools.

Disclosure: This post is sponsored by Splash Creative Media as part of the Fill the Backpack Campaign. 

One of the best lessons my son’s preschool teacher taught wasn’t in class. It was taught at Parent-Teacher Night , two years ago.

She told us all of the exciting things our children would be learning during the year, but closed by sharing that the first four things a child needs to be successful in learning happen before they even walking into class.

There are:  a good night’s sleep,  a healthy breakfast, a stable, loving home life, and a sense of security and boundaries.

Sitting in tiny chair and nestled in the warmth and coziness of a preschool classroom, I knew my son and daughter are privileged enough to have these things and much more.

But should it really be a privilege? Isn’t a no-brainer– food, shelter, love? Shouldn’t every child have the right and the opportunity to succeed?

It’s been unsettling to me to learn that, for whatever reason, not every child given these simple, basic things. It could be something a chaotic and unpredictable as having a family that’s constantly moving  or battling addiction.  It could be abuse, health issues, or parents who in spite of everything  just can’t seems to make ends meet.

The causes are endless, but so are the ways to help. It takes a village to turn these dire circumstances into unimaginable success, and that is the work behind Community in Schools.

Started 30 years ago by Bill Milliken, a youth advocate in New York City,  this organization was developed around the  idea of bringing community resources inside a public school building in a way that is accessible, coordinated, and accountable.

Since then, Community in School has become the nation’s leading dropout prevention program and has been effective in assessing individual needs, delivering the necessary support, and removing barriers to success.

 

We are proud to have Community in Schools as the non-profit benefactor of Fill the Backpack 2011 Campaign. Splash Creative Media will be donating 10% of our net profits to this fantastic organization. We are also very thrilled to spread the word about the impact they have made in the community. Although we hope that goodwill doesn’t end with us…

There are ways in which YOU can support them as well.

Donate

With a donation of $200 per child per year, Community in School is able to keep 97% of the young people served on track to graduation. Of course, your contribution is a tax deductible and a whopping 90% of the proceed goes  directly to the students.

Donations can be given through planned giving, workplace giving, memorial gifting, foundations, or online.

Volunteer

More than 57,000 volunteers make it possible for Communities In Schools to serve more than 1.3 million young people each year.

Community in Schools owes its continued achievements to the time and talents of people in the community. It’s even in the name!

School are in need of mentors, tutors, community partners, and behind-the-scene volunteers. You can find these volunteer opportunities, as well as your local Community in School online.

Even if all you have to give is a few hours of your time, it’s a few hours that could impact a child for a lifetime.

Advocate

Spread the word and get others to help too. You can start by writing a blog post about them. Follow Community in Schools (@CISnational) on Twitter and “like” their Facebook Page.

The more people who know about their work, the bigger the change you help bring… to our communities, to our schools, to a child in need.

This post is sponsored by Splash Creative Media as a part of the Fill the Backpack campaign. Community in Schools is the benefactor of Fill the Backpack. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own, and do not reflect those of Splash Creative Media or Community in Schools.

This is the last week to enter to win a backpack overstuffed with over $750 worth of  Back to School merchandise.  Enter to win on any or on all of our blogs.

"September 11 Anniversary Flag Hand Painted Upcycled Old Roofing Slate", by Michael Taylor, Etsy.com

On September 11, 2001, I was a senior at the University of Dallas, a small Catholic college and world and half way from New York City, Washington D.C., or  Shanksville, Pennsylvania. It could have been any other Tuesday morning. I was running late for my French class and probably eating breakfast on the way.

Class started at 9 AM, which would have made it 10 AM in New York- a full hour and fourteen minutes after the first plane hit the World Trade Center. Shortly after class began, a student worker from the Foreign Language Department ran into the room to say that second plane had hit the buildings.  He back a few minutes later to tell us there wast a third and fourth plane, but he didn’t have any other details other than that.

I had no idea what he was talking about, so my professor explained (in French) and dismissed us for the day. The story of what I thought she had said was a much funnier until I realized what she had actually said…  However when spoken in plain English, it didn’t make much sense either.

I rushed home to find my three roommates gathered around our tiny TV. We were all dumbfounded and in shock, but couldn’t pull ourselves away.

The first phone call I made was to my dad to ask if he had heard from his brother and sister, who both worked in Manhattan. He had and they were fine. I told him I loved him and  hung up. Then, at a loss from what to do next, I just went to my next class for the day even though I knew it would be canceled anyway. I just need some place to BE.

My college campus was within a few miles from DFW Airport. Over they years, I had grown accustom to the sounds of planes taking off and landing all day. As I walked back to campus, I was stunned by the silence. Even traffic seemed to be at a standstill as the entire world just watched and waited.

I don’t remember what  happened in the days that followed, but I know that some point life must have gone on.

Within the same month, I started an internship at the ad agency which would propel my career. I ended a three year relationship. I wrote my senior thesis on goal setting and accomplishment.

Yes, my life may have gone on, but I am no less shaken and confused but what happened that day. Every September 11th, I watch the memorials and news coverage and remember that day. I learn so much more about what really happened- the personal stories, the kids who were orphaned at birth, the people left behind.  As a mother and a wife, I have a deeper sense of their loss in a way that I did not as an unattached college student. I see so many lives which have not gone on. My thoughts and prayers are with them today.