Waste not

Forty percent of all food produced on the planet is wasted. In the US, roughly 10 million tons of crops don’t even make it off the farm because of labor shortages, extreme weather, low market prices, overproduction, or simply because it doesn’t meet the cosmetic standards of America’s grocery stores.

The food that does make it into schools feeds nearly 30 million students (about the population of Texas) every day, making schools one of the largest food service systems in the US. A 2019 study by WWF, based on food waste audits from 46 schools, found that each student wastes an average of 39.2 pounds of food per year. When applied to all schools nationwide, that amounts to as much as 530,000 metric tons of food (excluding milk) sent to landfills from K-12 schools annually, equal to 1.9 million metric tons of greenhouse gas pollution—or the weight of 106,000 elephants.

When it comes to planetary impacts, it seems the food that keeps us alive is one of the things that’s hurting us the most.

It’s for these reasons that WWF began the Food Waste Warriors program in 2018 as an extension of its broader focus on global food systems and biodiversity. From humble beginnings as a classroom teaching tool, the program is now active in nearly 1,000 schools across 31 states. The interactive curricula include guidance on waste audits and tracking data, practical ideas including “share tables” and “share refrigerators” where students can place unopened or uneaten food for others to take, and an advocacy framework that empowers young people to drive change around food issues, from local school boards to state legislatures.

Back at school, Chandler is playing a wildlife-themed “cootie catcher” game with one of Miskovsky’s students after helping another build a LegoTM panda. Miskovsky is with another group, demonstrating how to weigh leftover food and sort out what can be composted from what’s headed for the landfill. The activities come from the Food Waste Warriors curriculum, and judging by the class’s rapid-fire questions, wide-eyed enthusiasm, and bursts of creativity, it’s clear: Hands-on activities are a powerful way to cement the many ways food and biodiversity overlap.

For the curriculum to truly succeed, Chandler says it should embrace and build on skills being taught in other classes, such as math and science, and be adaptable enough to conform to a particular school system’s existing standards.

In many schools, its principles are woven into complementary lesson plans—the science behind food waste, the math used to calculate and track the weight of compost, or the geography of where food originates.

“While the curriculum meets teaching standards around food webs or how food grows or the importance of wildlife,” says Chandler, “it’s also teaching them observation and critical thinking skills and allowing them to connect it to their daily life.”

That’s certainly the case with Ruben P., a quiet fifth grader who has translated his knowledge into action on the home front. “I talked to my parents about it,” he says. “I told them it was fun to compost, it helps the Earth, and it helps plants when they send it to the garden. We have a fruit tree in our backyard, and we’re trying to compost our waste so when it turns into soil, we can put it around the tree, so I can give it nutrients.”

The discarded milk cartons that frustrated St. Onge are one of the most visible symbols of how policy, guidelines, and lunchroom sustainability intersect.

According to a 2019 WWF report, US schools toss an estimated 45 million gallons of milk each year. Producing just one gallon requires 144.2 gallons of water, which means that the milk discarded annually by schools represents enough wasted water to fill nearly 10,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools. In fact, the CO2 released in producing all that milk is equivalent to the annual emissions of 77,000 gas-powered vehicles—an environmental toll that’s multiplied when waste goes to landfills or incinerators.

“You don’t have to serve everything that you’ve got,” Pearson says. “You can give students options to take things.” Most institutions, he argues, already know when food is likely to go uneaten. “But we’ve got these myths about what’s required that stand in our way—and they actually create waste. You don’t have to take a milk carton, for instance, just to throw it in the trash.” As food insecurity grows in America, the program serves a dual purpose: preventing waste while reducing hunger. During 2024–25, OCPS share tables recovered and redirected 21,000 pounds of food to community food-recovery programs or into other students’ hands.

Pearson advocates for bulk milk dispensers that allow children to take only the amount of milk they need in a glass instead of a carton. WWF’s study found that around 32 cartons of milk are wasted per student each year. If they use jugs or milk dispensers, however, those numbers drop.

In the schools where Food Waste Warriors has been implemented, WWF estimates a 14.5% reduction in food waste and a 12% reduction in milk waste. But to truly make a long-lasting impact, the program needs to reach as many of the nation’s more than 100,000 schools as possible.

“I would love to see this become an institutionalized part of the National School Lunch Program, with lunchrooms across the country actively monitoring the food they serve and the waste they generate, and those lessons embedded in a curriculum that teaches students about the ecology and origins of our food,” Pearson says.

Chandler cites the low barrier to entry as a key reason Food Waste Warriors is an ideal fit for schools of all sizes, including those with limited resources. “It’s simple to implement and intentionally designed to be flexible, low cost, and low stress,” she says. “All it takes to get started are a few basic tools—a scale, some bins, a cart, a cooler, and a few student or staff volunteers.” Grants or local partnerships, like those offered by WWF, can often help schools cover some expenses as well.

The financial benefits alone justify scaling up, Chandler adds, noting that cutting food waste in all schools could save $1.7 billion annually. “Think about what that could mean for resources, for school infrastructure, for staffing capacity, for food.”

Pearson agrees, noting that programs like Food Waste Warriors can drive meaningful change from the ground up. “These types of initiatives don’t require millions in government funding,” he says. “What’s needed is local-level action. Sponsoring a school cafeteria food waste reduction program is one of the most impactful steps a local community or business can take on behalf of a healthier planet. We want students to imagine a world without waste.”

Miskovsky adds, “I hope that students are able to realize that they do have power and that even these small things that we do in our day-to-day lives can impact the world at large.”