The Pew Center for Applied Research reports that 74% of Americans will gather at the Thanksgiving table with other people. Approximately 5% will eat alone, many for reasons that are understandable—like work or travel. While those statistics speak to the practice of a national holiday, on the daily, 50% of Americans eat lunch alone—and at their desks. I would like this holiday to serve as a reminder of the importance of table fellowship and what is at stake when we eat alone.
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| The Algonquin Round Table was a famous group of writers, critics, and actors who met for lunch every day at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City during the 1920s |
I would never think to bowl alone, but as the moderator of the S.I. bowling club, I have see people do just that. Solo bowlers usually have their AirPods in their ears as they quietly practice their game.
Three-quarters of Americans who are employed by someone else do get a lunch break. About half of those people have paid lunch breaks, while half take lunch unpaid. In either case, the most common way that they spend their break is eating at their desk (50%). Just shy of 30% of workers go out for lunch on their own.
During lunchtime, nearly half (44%) just eat, taking a break from screens and tasks to focus on their food. But 38% spend this time scrolling on their phones.
According to Elias, stepping away from your desk and sharing a meal is also good for your sense of connection to others. “When you’re enjoying something, even if it’s just a grilled cheese, in the company of other people enjoying things, it’s a kind of affirmation of your humanity,” she says. Eating together is a form of “community building in little ways,” Elias says, adding that it serves as a reminder that “we have something in common.”
Call it what you will –the Pay-Caf, the Oak Room, the legendary Oak Room, or the Night Oak–it was a public cafeteria situated between two student cafeterias in the South Dining Hall. This colorful eatery was where the university community intersected, mostly because of hunger for food and good company.
Pay-Caf gatherings and conversations at meal times made me more aware of what Father Hesburgh meant when I heard him speak on the quality of campus life. He insisted that a person could be admitted to Notre Dame, never attend class, and still emerge as an educated person four years later if he or she took advantage of the lectures conferences and other worthwhile activities outside the classroom and spend some time talking with professors and fellow students about their lives and interests.I knew what Father Ted meant when I saw such professors as philosopher Joe Evans and English scholars Joe Duffy and his colleague Lou Nickelson, from out of the pages of Beowulf, hold court regularly at Pay-Caf tables. These were men who left long-standing impressions in the lives of those they taught.One of the large round tables turned into what are referred to as The Algonquin table, a takeoff on the famed table of the same name in the New York Hotel, where you would never sit down unless invited. I never realize that this big table had that reputation. Actually, it was a storytelling table. One Sunday morning Jim Murphy, who was in charge of the crowd control in the Joyce Center, invited me to bring my tray to that table and in the process coaxed a Farley Hall story for me. It paid my table membership fee.There were a number of good readers that gathered at that table who opened up worlds of discussion and storytelling on various topics including Notre Dame and South Bend politics, changes in the church, new books, movies, and sports.
That’s what gathering at a table with others can do. I hope your Thanksgiving meal offers the same.
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