My Classmates Spent Years Laughing at My ‘Lunch Lady’ Grandma – Until My Graduation Speech Made Them Fall Silent

“I don’t need to be rich,” she said once when I asked her if she ever regretted not going back to school. “I just want you to be okay.”

And I was. At least, until high school made it harder.

It started in freshman year, the way whispers do — low and mean.

People would pass me in the hall and mutter things like, “Better not talk back to her, her grandma might spit in your soup.” Some thought it was funny to call me “Lunch Girl” or “PB&J Princess.”

A few would go up to the counter and mock my grandma’s sweet Southern accent or imitate the way she always said “sugar” or “honey” to everyone.

Some of them were kids I’d gone to elementary school with — kids who used to come over for popsicles and run around our backyard.

I remember one day when Brittany, who had once cried at my eighth birthday party because she didn’t win in musical chairs, asked in front of a group, “So, does your grandma still pack your panties with your lunch?”

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