One of the first weeks into my freshman year, I somehow found myself at one of the long wooden tables stuffed at the back of Hinkle, sitting amongst a group of teachers and students from all walks of life at St. Mark’s. Cramped into the narrow log bench by two intimidating seniors, I took a glance around the table but struggled to make out the unfamiliar faces surrounding me, and struggled to understand the unfamiliar language in which they were speaking. What was this “Groton Day” that they were discussing about? Why all the excitement over the dish being served for lunch today? Some people sitting across from me were kind enough to make small-talks with me about my life, how my transition to St. Mark’s was going, so-and-so . . . but desperately, I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. I felt inherently awkward and out-of-place.
This was “seated meal”. During the academic school year, students and faculty would gather for lunch twice a week in the dining hall (or Hinkle, or Small). While Mondays’ lunch blocks were typically reserved for community seated meals (meaning that individuals from the St. Mark’s community were randomly assigned to sit together, and these groups were subject to bi-weekly changes), Thursdays’ lunch blocks were typically reserved for advisory seated meals (meaning that advisory groups were assigned to sit together). For many years, the justification for seated meals has been the following: it fosters community bonds, and encourages students and faculty to get to know their community better. As a result, seated meals have become a great tradition here at St. Mark’s – something that is uniquely integral to the St. Mark’s community experience.
As someone who has had the opportunity to experience seated meals during my freshman year at St. Mark’s, it does hold true to its promises, in some respects. I’ve always enjoyed the experience of an advisory seated meal. I loved getting to know the people in my group, and getting to discuss (or gossip) about the newest developments at the school. However, I never fully got used to its counterpart, community seated meal. As a freshman, more often than not, the experience of sitting at a table with mostly upper-formers was a nerve-wracking experience. Also as an introvert, the obligation to make small talk – or otherwise endure awkward silence – was something that I didn’t enjoy either.
When the COVID-19 pandemic emerged in 2020, St. Mark’s temporarily halted all gathering-based school events, including seated meals, in order to reduce the risk of virus transmission in the community. While community seating was gone for good, advisory seating was replaced with advisory meeting blocks, every week on Monday. I, of course, rejoiced upon finding out that community seated meals were gone for the year, as it meant that I would no longer have to endure this much-disliked experience.
Nowadays, the dining hall during lunchtime is a stark contrast to what it looked like pre-COVID times; less crowding, less noise, but it slowly dawned on me – less sense of ‘community’. Combined with the new “split lunch-blocks” and “take-out” systems, the loss of seated meals meant that students and faculty were no longer obliged to have their meals in one designated time of the day, in one designated spot anymore. People “come and go” from the dining hall much more than they used to, with much less of an inclination to remain there for longer than 10-15 minutes. As a result, the dining hall has fallen out of its fashion as a “community-building” space. It's a mystifying but confusing thing to think about, because on one hand, I’m reaping the benefits of no longer having to show up to another school obligation and no longer having to sustain awkward conversations. However, on the other hand, the dining hall has never felt so “lifeless” before, and so much as merely a space to eat than a space to have genuine interactions. If the dining hall is no longer a space where I can get to know my community better, then where else is?
