Sporadic Alienation

I Hope The Bear Sketch Lives On.
Last night, Laura and I went on a minidate to the Brave New Workshop to watch their final dress rehearsal of their new show YouCube: This Company Loves Misery. Awesome. Awesome. Lauren Anderson Awesome. Go see it.
One thing I was sort of expecting to see was a bit about office lunchtime culture. I remember during my 90 terrifying days in the corporate world that (buses are an amazing invention, the Farmer's Market makes Thursday almost as good as Friday, and) everyone self-elects into one of two categories

1. lunch buyer
2. lunch bringer

And from there,

1. solo lunch
2. group lunch

I know how bad it is to be a solo lunch bringer. Because I was and am one. My department here in non-corporate is made up of administrators and counselors. I suspect that they do not eat; their love for students sustains them. I, on the other hand, am eating all the time. But only when I've been sitting still for longer than 10 minutes.
The Part Where I Get Serious
All of this brings me to my new 12th grade student. On the first day he stopped by to say that he hadn't "found [his] place" here yet. But three days later he's still finding ways to skip out of the cafeteria experience by coming to visit. My office is his hub.
Thank you, God, that I am not in high school anymore.
As one student of color among a sea of white faces, he scans the crowd looking for people who look like him. "Who would you sit with?" he asks me. And I am momentarily dumbfounded.
"The geeks."
"Really? I saw you drinking your water out of a gallon yesterday. That's more hood than geek."
"Ah. Then I would sit with the hood."
[shakes his head]
Tough Love
I just sent him down to the lunch room without me. Without me to protect him or guide him or walk him towards friendly faces. And I'm in my cozy office safely behind a desk, feeling like the hypocrite I am.