Remember the old saying, “Food for thought”?
April Glaves takes it literally.
As Heron School’s cafeteria manager, she sees herself as part of a cohesive, collaborative educational team: She helps feed kids every day, keeping them strong, alert, energetic, and ready to learn. Food for health. Food for growth. Food for thought.
“Absolutely,” Glaves said when asked if cafeterias contribute to learning. “If (kids) don’t eat, they can’t learn – it’s a long day.” Heron’s staff, from custodians to principal, rely on each other to educate students, she added. “We’re all a team. It takes all of us.”
Glaves began working at Heron as a cafeteria volunteer years ago when her own son – now a college junior — attended the school. She joined Heron’s staff in 2008 and currently serves as the lead Food Services Assistant.
Through the years, she has seen school cafeteria food improve in taste, variety, and quality – it’s healthier now than in the past, with a daily salad bar that recently included romaine lettuce, spinach, carrots, tomatoes and fruit. Options vary during the month, with themes ranging from garden to taco to Mediterranean.
Glaves sees cafeteria work as a perfect fit for her: She loves kids, she likes to cook, her father owned a Chicago-area restaurant for 50 years, she grew up busing tables, she has a can’t-sit-still personality, and she gets a big kick out of little things like persuading a Heron student to try a healthy but unfamiliar fruit or vegetable.
“I love my job,” she said. “I think this is a perfect fit for me.”
Glaves is Natomas Unified’s Classified Employee of the Year for Nutrition Services, and here’s an excerpt from her introduction by Assistant Supt. Doug Orr to District Trustees at a meeting honoring her and other district winners:
“Ms. Glaves is described as always having a smile on her face. Each student who walks into the cafeteria knows they will be greeted by ‘Miss April’ and given that little extra love and attention when they need it.”
Boiled down to two simple words: School mom.
Hundreds of Heron students file into the cafeteria for breakfast or lunch each day and, to Glaves, they’re her kids. If they’re very young and need a shoe tied, if they’re sad and need a hug, if all they need is a smile and a warm greeting, Glaves prides herself on being there for her “chickadees” or “honey bears.”
“I think I’m just like a mom,” she said, smiling. “It’s like they’re my kids. I address them like I would my child: How was your day? What’s going on? Or I say silly things. Sometimes I wear Pikachu shirts – (a Pokemon character) — or I’ll have a different animated shirt.”
Recently, a special-needs student who doesn’t speak much walked up and made it very clear what he thinks of Glaves. “He grabbed my arm and pulled me in and gave me the biggest hug ever,” she said. “It just made my day.”
That simple encounter has nothing to do with eating, perhaps, but it says a whole lot about Glaves.
