HowFamilyDinnersCanHealaDisconnectedSociety

Some childhood memories are crystal clear, etched in your mind like a photograph. I can very clearly remember the day I was finally allowed to get my ears pierced for my 6th-grade graduation. I can still feel the sting of the needles when they went through my ears, seeing myself like Belle in the handheld mirror, the tiny studs sparkling. My mother’s proud smile reflected on me, and in that moment, I felt one step closer to womanhood.

But not all memories are so distinct. Some are a medley of countless moments, days, weeks, even years, that blend into a single, powerful feeling of nostalgia for something you didn’t fully appreciate as a child. That amalgamation of memories for me will always be our family dinners.

I grew up in a traditional Italian-American family. My mother cooked every meal for our family every single day. (Except for Fridays, that was Chinese or pizza nights. We were Long Islanders after all!) However, aside from those occasional weekend nights, my mother prepared every meal for us. As a young girl, my role was simple: set the table, load the dishwasher, dry pots and pans, and put everything away. As I grew older, I prepared chicken, chopped onions, and rolled meatballs. By my senior year of high school, I was hosting dinner parties for friends, which I cooked entirely by myself. Mr. Miyagi has nothing on my mother.

Yet, when I reflect on family dinners, it’s not the cooking or cleaning that stands out. It’s the feeling of safety, vulnerability, and joy. It’s the warmth that lingers from thousands of shared evenings. I can still hear my dad’s hearty laugh,

eyes crinkling, as my mom recounted another wild tale from our outrageous North Shore suburb. I feel the thrill of sharing a school or sports triumph, or the hot weight of tears over a bad grade or a bully’s taunts, knowing the table was a safe space to unravel. I see my baby sister soaking it all in, occasionally dropping wisdom far beyond her years. I don’t recall specific tests, stories, or days. What I remember is the profound sense of family. That table was where we could be ourselves, confess mistakes, celebrate wins, or simply exist together.

Looking back, I see how much society has lost by letting family dinners fade. Today, we prioritize sports, hobbies, work, or travel over shared meals. No one is setting the table or sitting down all together. No one is helping prepare the food to learn a life skill. At best, a crockpot sits on the counter, with family members grabbing dinner whenever they can squeeze it in. At worst, it’s a meal on the road from Burger King.

A 2024 report from Harvard’s Making Caring Common project found that 66% of Americans believe insufficient family time fuels the nation’s loneliness epidemic. Young people feel this disconnection most acutely, with participants noting a lack of close family bonds. Similarly, a study in the February/March 2018 issue of the Journal of Developmental & Behavioral Pediatrics showed that children who shared regular family dinners at age 6 had better social skills, fewer behavioral issues, reduced risks of depression and anxiety in adulthood, and parents reported lower stress.

Could regularly sharing meals together help solve some of society’s problems?

Reviving this tradition isn’t easy in today’s world. Dual-income parents must work harder and longer to put food on the table. Kids today face pressure to excel academically, musically, and athletically by 8th grade, expectations that