As I step into the bustling hallway of Holy Heart High School in St. John’s, the morning bell has just rung. Students rush past, some clutching breakfast wraps from the school’s nutrition program. But Principal Sharon Dunn’s concerns extend beyond today’s meals.
“We’re seeing more students than ever relying on our food programs,” she tells me, lowering her voice as we enter her office. “The worry that keeps me up at night is what happens when school lets out for summer.”
Across Newfoundland and Labrador, educators are reporting an alarming increase in student hunger. The province now faces the highest rate of food insecurity in Canada, with nearly one in four households struggling to put adequate food on the table, according to Statistics Canada’s latest Canadian Income Survey.
The crisis is especially evident in schools. The School Lunch Association, which serves 25 schools in the eastern region, reports a 32% increase in program participation since 2021. What began as emergency support during the pandemic has become a permanent necessity for many families.
“These aren’t just statistics,” says Josh Smee, CEO of Food First NL. “We’re talking about children showing up unable to concentrate because they haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch program.”
The problem extends beyond St. John’s. In Corner Brook, teacher Melissa Roberts describes students hoarding Friday cafeteria offerings. “They’re taking extra food home because they’re worried about the weekend,” she explains. “Now imagine a two-month summer break.”
The causes reflect a perfect storm of economic challenges. Newfoundland and Labrador faces Canada’s highest unemployment rate at 10.2%, while also experiencing the nation’s fastest-rising food prices at 5.3% year-over-year, outpacing the national average by nearly two percentage points.
For many families, the math simply doesn’t work. Shannon, a single parent with two children attending elementary school in Mount Pearl, works full-time but still struggles. “After rent, power, and gas to get to work, my grocery budget is whatever’s left—sometimes it’s hardly anything,” she says, requesting her last name be withheld.
Provincial Education Minister Krista Lynn Howell acknowledges the severity of the situation. “We’ve increased funding to school food programs by $2 million this year, bringing our total investment to $6.8 million,” she says. “But we recognize summer creates additional challenges for vulnerable families.”
The province recently announced a summer food security initiative that will provide $500,000 to community organizations to help bridge the gap when schools close. Critics, however, argue this represents just a fraction of what’s needed.
NDP Education Critic Jim Dinn calls the summer funding “a band-aid on a gaping wound.” At a recent legislative session, he pushed for a comprehensive school food program that would operate year-round. “Food insecurity doesn’t take summer vacation,” he said.
Even with increased funding, schools are getting creative with limited resources. At Gonzaga High School in St. John’s, staff transformed an unused classroom into a food pantry where students can discreetly pick up staples like pasta, canned goods, and hygiene products.
“Dignity matters as much as the food itself,” explains guidance counselor Maria Jenkins. “Teenagers especially don’t want to be identified as needing help.”
Community partnerships have become essential. In Labrador, the Nunatsiavut Government has expanded its school breakfast program to include take-home food packs for Indigenous students during school breaks. Meanwhile, corporate donors like Dominion grocery stores have increased their support to school food banks across the province.
The Newfoundland and Labrador Teachers’ Association (NLTA) is advocating for structural solutions. “Teachers are buying food out of their own pockets,” says NLTA President Trent Langdon. “That’s not sustainable. We need systems that recognize food as a basic right for students, not a charitable add-on.”
Some schools are developing summer strategies. Holy Cross Elementary in Holyrood will keep its community garden program running through July and August, teaching students to grow vegetables while providing fresh produce to participating families.
Experts point to broader economic factors that need addressing. Memorial University social work professor Dr. Alicia Cox studies food security in rural communities. “The seasonal nature of many jobs in this province means summer can actually be harder financially for fishing and tourism workers with children,” she explains. “They’re working more hours but paying for childcare they didn’t need during the school year.”
As the school year winds down, the immediate concern is ensuring no child goes hungry during the break. Food Banks Newfoundland and Labrador reports they’re preparing for a 25% increase in demand this summer compared to last year.
“Schools have become essential food distribution points in our communities,” says Eg Walters, the organization’s executive director. “When they close, that safety net disappears for thousands of children.”
Back at Holy Heart High, Principal Dunn shows me a classroom where student volunteers pack “Backpack Buddies”—discreet food packages for weekend nutrition. Today, they’re assembling larger supply kits for the coming summer months.
Grade 11 student Morgan helps coordinate the program. “I used to think hunger was something that happened somewhere else,” she tells me as she organizes packages of oatmeal. “Now I know it’s happening to kids sitting next to me in class.”
As I leave the school, the morning sun catches the iconic Long’s Hill view of St. John’s harbor. Tourism season is ramping up, fishing boats are heading out, and the provincial economy shows some positive indicators. Yet for many families, these improvements haven’t reached their kitchen tables.
The real test of the province’s commitment to its children may not be what happens in classrooms this spring, but whether those same children have enough to eat when September rolls around again.
