Popcorn on the Floor – my story

    Social Studies held little or no interest for me in 7^th grade. That didn’t mean I didn’t work hard in the class—I’ve always tried to be a good student—but I certainly didn’t care what India’s main export was or how trade in Europe could effect how much my parents pay for things. People didn’t have enough food to eat in Somalia—what could I do about it? I had frizzy hair and never said the right thing in front of boys—THOSE were problems.

    Mr. Moser was my social studies teacher. He incidentally was also my English, Bible and homeroom teacher. That kind of thing is pretty typical in a small, private school. He was sarcastic and a somewhat overweight, and had no trouble laughing at us when we acted like idiots (which was a lot of the time.) In true 7^th grade fashion, there were times I hated him, and times I thought he was great—often in the same day.

    I have only one solid memory of the subject I cared so little about, but it impacted me enough to stick with me eighteen years later.

    ”All right, kids, get the desks against the wall.” This had happened enough for us to know where to put them. “Put your chairs in a circle.”

    We watched as Mr. Moser pulled out cups. There were two sizes of cups—one about the size of a large fast food restaurant drink, and one about the size of a sippy cup. Then he pulled out a large bag of popped popcorn. We started getting excited. “Sorry folks, this isn’t for eating.” Groans.

    Mr. Moser divvied us up into teams. Each team was assigned a country. Some were in Africa, some were in Europe, there was of course the United States, maybe Indiana or Australia—about twelve in all, seemingly randomly selected. “The large cup represents so many pounds of food, the small cup represents this amount of food,” he explained. He went to each country and passed out cups, saying things like, “Okay, you guys are India, right? India needs two large cups and one small cup to feed its population.” All the way around to each group. Here are your cups, this is how much food you need. Blah Blah Blah.

    Then he began to pass out the popcorn. Up to India, he gave them enough popcorn to fill one big cup. “Hey, wait a sec,” Missy, a particularly apt pupil in the India group, said. “You didn’t give us enough.”

    ”Ah ha…” murmured Mr. Moser mysteriously as he went on to the next group.

    Imagine Missy’s surprise when the United States group, who only needed a large cup and a little cup to feed its population, was given four big cups of popcorn! And wouldn’t you know, the most cocky, arrogant boy in class, Chad, was part of the United States group. He laughed over his hoard greedily and his partner, little Jeff Nobody, laughed nervously along.

    Mr. Moser finished and everyone looked around. Every group save maybe one was off—either they had more popcorn than they needed or not enough. “Okay, kids. You have ten minutes. At the end of the ten minutes you need to have enough popcorn to feed your country. It is up to you to figure out how to get what you need. I’m not going to interfere, so don’t come crying to me for help. You figure it out. Go!”

    We all sat there for a minute or so kind of stupidly. My country was Italy, and we had one small cup more than we needed. I knew I was lucky. Missy looked around for a minute, then got up and started walking around to the groups with more than they needed, asking for their extra. Others who were in the same situation as Missy started to do the same. When someone came to our group, my partner and I gave away our little cup—we didn’t care as long as we had what we needed—but after that we severely guarded our necessary store.

    It was a good thing we did, too! People went to the United States group almost immediately. Lots of them. And Chad loved the attention. “I’m not just going to give it away,” he said. “What’s in it for me?” Some girls tried to sweet talk him, and for Judy, who was cute, cute, cute, it worked. Not so much for the others, especially the other boys. Suddenly, Clint, who was Somalia, ran up and lunged, and got a big cup out of Jeff’s hands.

    ”Hey!” Jeff cried, feebly grabbing for the cup.

    A lot of the popcorn landed on the floor, but a lot of it landed in Clint’s cup too. We all looked anxiously at Mr. Moser, but he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “Five minutes.” A few people grabbed handfuls of the fallen popcorn on the floor and ran back to their spots. Chad was one of these, ironically.

    After that things got a little nuts. Other people tried to steal from other groups—and not just the big countries like the U.S., but even countries who barely had any to begin with. My partner and I stayed out of this, but we kept an eye on it. A couple people tried to see if they could catch us off guard, but we were ready. We weren’t going to lose our popcorn stash. Popcorn was all over the floor, crunching under people’s feet, being ground into the carpet—people were yelling and arguing, hoarding or begging.

    ”TIME’S UP! Go back to your places.” It took awhile for this to happen. There were several red faces. Missy was pouting because Judy’s cups were full and she was still short.

    Mr. Moser went around to each group to see what they ended up with. More groups had what they needed than when we started, but only two or three. One country that had started out with enough now didn’t have enough because they had been “robbed.” About four countries ended up with “starving people.” Of course, Mr. Moser reveled in this, “Well, India, you lose. Somalia, close, but you lose,” etc. He turned around and surveyed all the popcorn on the floor.

    Suddenly, he got surprisingly serious. “Kids, I passed out enough popcorn for everyone to have enough. And yet, look. India is starving. Somalia. Morocco. But here’s the kicker: there was enough out there for everyone, plus two large cups extra. Why didn’t everyone get enough?”

    ”Because Chad wouldn’t share,” Missy snapped, and everyone laughed.

    ”Chad’s not far from the real deal,” Mr. Moser replied calmly. “This is what I want you guys to get: there is enough food in the world for everyone. Enough with extra to spare. But it takes people who are willing to share. If they don’t…people die.”

Mr. Moser has since died and the school’s been turned over to a different organization. I don’t know where any of the kids in my class ended up because I changed schools the following year. But I can still see all that popcorn on the floor. Wasted food. Wasted resources. Wasted lives. I pray I will never forget it.