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I had no option but to enjoy the “amazing four-star cuisines” offered three times a day.As a result, the unidentifiable yellow and brown substance – titled “yakisoba” – became filet mignon.Still, in the end, I always did manage to learn a new thing or two; my environment accomplishing what school was designed to do. Two years ago, I enrolled in my latest school, becoming a new resident on Florida´s Death Row.I call it “school” because I can´t help but notice an eerie similarity between adapting to my new residence and adjusting to all those new schools so many years ago.
Nonetheless, I had to figure out my place in this new food-chain, which I soon discovered wasn´t much of a food-chain at all. All of us inmates were at the bottom and everyone else was above us. What wasn´t simple was getting used to the teachers, who were replaced by correctional officers.
Then, there was the small matter of convincing myself I loved the food my new school served.
With Death Row Academy being a boarding school, there was no waiting until I got home to eat nor bringing a bagged lunch.
On top of it all, there was the issue of getting acclimated to the school´s lunch menu.
You may be thinking this isn´t something of much significance, but a growing boy with a hearty appetite, is always hungry.