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People shouldn’t have to rely on food pantries to feed themselves or their families.
I run a food pantry. I’m proud of the work we do. But if lawmakers passed a liveable minimum wage or invested more in programs like SNAP, people wouldn’t need to rely on pantries like mine.
Pantries are a critical piece of the anti-hunger puzzle, but they’re filler pieces. Government nutrition programs—with the infrastructure and funding to get the job done—should be the centerpiece.
I grew up on food stamps, called the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP. My mother worked hard, but her wages were too low to meet our basic needs. Sometimes we felt embarrassed pulling out the stamps at the register—I worried kids would talk about me at school.
We know what works. We saw how hunger decreased during the pandemic when it had been forecast to skyrocket because we invested in the well-being of families.
But the aid was a blessing. It helped keep us from hunger. Even still, food stamps weren’t designed to last the whole month. Most months, we had to travel long distances—often outside our county—to find food pantries so we could get by.
SNAP is the nation’s most effective anti-hunger program, feeding nearly a quarter of all U.S. children. The program reduces hunger by about 30%; improves long-term educational, health, and economic outcomes for children; and helps address systemic racial disparities in poverty.
SNAP is the first line of defense in a down economy. In fact, food insecurity fell to a record low of 10.2% in 2021—in the middle of the pandemic—due to the pandemic-era boost in SNAP benefits. But now that those benefits have expired, nearly 13% of us experience food insecurity.
For many Americans, wages are simply too low. To meet basic needs in South Carolina, where I live, two adults with two children must earn over $21 per hour. But our state minimum wage is just $7.25.
A person would have to work 106 hours a week at that wage to afford a modest two-bedroom apartment here. Actually, the minimum wage isn’t enough to cover the average rent for a two-bedroom apartment anywhere in the country.
Over 44 million Americans rely on SNAP to combat hunger. Yet some members of Congress are proposing cutting the program by a whopping $30 billion over the coming decade. South Carolina alone, which is among the top 10 states with the greatest food insecurity, would suffer $400 million in cuts.
That would be devastating for families like mine.
I’m a single mother with three kids. At age three, one of my sons was diagnosed with autism, and I couldn’t find affordable daycare that could accommodate his needs. Every week, I had to leave work at a moment’s notice to help him or rush him home. I couldn’t sustain employment. I needed help during that challenging time, and SNAP provided it.
I now run a food pantry, Food for All, where I’ve seen that I’m far from alone.
I listen to the stories of people who come here and share my own to ease their feelings of embarrassment. I breathe a sigh of relief with them when they tell me, “Now I can afford my medication,” “Now I can make rent,” or “Now I don’t have to choose between feeding my child and getting her new shoes.”
But other times, I have to watch those who’ve waited in long lines for an hour be turned away because the food has run out. I can’t possibly get enough food donations to meet the enormous need.
But I won’t give up. None of us can.
That’s why I continue to fight for robust funding—and against the proposed slashing—of SNAP. People shouldn’t have to rely on food pantries to feed themselves or their families.
We know what works. We saw how hunger decreased during the pandemic when it had been forecast to skyrocket because we invested in the well-being of families. We must do that again.
Our government is morally obligated to protect the most vulnerable among us and prioritize access to essential resources like food assistance.
Raising my three grandchildren as a multigenerational caregiver, I expect the unexpected. Each day brings its own challenges, but nothing prepared me for the rollercoaster of navigating repeated attacks on the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP.
As a custodial grandmother in Washington, D.C., I rely on programs like SNAP to ensure my family not only survives but thrives. Yet, the constant threat of proposed cuts to essential food assistance services casts a shadow of fear and instability over our lives.
After months of stopgap funding, federal lawmakers finally reached a deal to prevent a government shutdown and ensure funding until September 30, 2024. However, this agreement offers no assurance that those who need SNAP the most won’t face eligibility and access hurdles. While the federal government determines SNAP funding, it's the states that control eligibility and oversee distribution to recipients. Now, in Kentucky, Maryland, Nebraska, and West Virginia, far-right Republicans are gunning to undermine their states’ ability to assist those who need it most: children and older adults.
I refuse to accept a future where politicians leave my grandchildren hungry because they lack the backbone to stand up for their constituents in their home districts and their neighbors—like me—in The District.
Although SNAP in D.C. remains unscathed, our Maryland neighbors may not be as fortunate. Rep. Andy Harris (R-Md.) has proposed legislation restricting which foods can be purchased with SNAP benefits in Maryland. Attacks like Harris’ disproportionately impact Maryland families who contribute to the DMV’s economy, culture, and community, constraining their choices simply because they reside in Maryland just a few miles north or east of my D.C. address.
Imagine the dire effects eligibility restrictions would pose if introduced in D.C., where 1 in 5 residents rely on SNAP to have food on the table. Without this vital assistance, I face difficult choices between purchasing essential medications that Medicaid won’t cover for my three grandchildren with disabilities and providing nourishment for our family. SNAP is pivotal in providing important nutrition for D.C. families, including mine. For us, SNAP is not merely a government program; it is a lifeline that ensures our basic necessities are met, allowing us to focus on providing love and care for our children. SNAP saves lives. Between 2014 and 2018, 9,000 children, on average, were lifted above the poverty line annually. I hope our lawmakers are acutely aware of the ethical implications of prioritizing politics over the well-being of vulnerable families.
To slash benefits for the 145,800 Washington, D.C. residents relying on SNAP, when the cost of living here is 53% higher than the national average and growing, is downright cruel. Despite being the U.S. capital’s workforce, we are victims of taxation without representation. We keep the city running day in and day out, yet without state power, politicians are content ignoring our struggles and treating us as if we’re invisible.
Organizations like SPACEs in Action and Community Change Action fight every day so voices like mine are heard. However, grassroots efforts alone cannot save the systematic support provided by federal programs like SNAP. It is incumbent upon lawmakers to prioritize the needs of D.C. families whenever there are budget negotiations and prevent further harm to vulnerable communities.
Our government is morally obligated to protect the most vulnerable among us and prioritize access to essential resources like food assistance. I refuse to accept a future where politicians leave my grandchildren hungry because they lack the backbone to stand up for their constituents in their home districts and their neighbors—like me—in The District. Pass the budget and stop the shutdown. Our families, communities, and nation’s livelihood depend on it.
What we really need is to renew, expand, and cut red tape for those programs that are proven to keep people above water.
Things don’t always work out the way you expect. I’ve gotten to mix with celebrities and travel to the other side of the world. But I’m also a single mother who’s experienced health crises, homelessness, and food insecurity.
What I’ve learned is we need public policies that look out for people no matter where they live, what they look like, or how much money they have.
I’m from Georgia, where Tyler Perry headquarters his media empire. I went to college to study theater and film and started getting roles as an extra on Perry’s productions. I was eventually hired as a casting assistant.
When it comes to people who struggle financially, some say it’s our fault—that we’re lazy, weak, that we deserve to be poor. It’s not true.
I felt that I was going somewhere. But then I began to get seizures, and my kidneys malfunctioned. The doctors thought it was likely lupus and fibromyalgia. I couldn’t continue to work—and on top of that, I was pregnant with my first child.
After my child was born, I began taking medication, felt better for a while, and worked toward becoming a teacher. I even got a job teaching English in China. But when my child’s father threatened to sue for custody if I brought our daughter to be with me, I had to give that up and return to Georgia.
When it comes to people who struggle financially, some say it’s our fault—that we’re lazy, weak, that we deserve to be poor. It’s not true—I’m a strong, hard-working, well-educated survivor. But when you’re a single mother with serious health issues, you quickly run out of options for jobs that pay well.
I’m hardly alone. According to the Poor People’s Campaign, there are 140 million poor and low-income people in this country—including about 4.5 million here in Georgia. In fact, we’re about 43% of the population both in the state and nationally.
To meet our basic needs, a household with two adults and two children needs to earn over $23 an hour. But Georgia’s minimum wage is just $7.25. At this wage, I’d have to work 116 hours a week just to afford a modest two-bedroom apartment. (There are only 168 hours in an entire week.)
That’s why the safety net is so important.
Thankfully, I was able to access the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP, also known as “food stamps”) and Medicaid, which were lifelines. During the pandemic, the expanded Child Tax Credit also allowed me to meet my family’s needs—and even save a little.
But as pandemic programs wound down, I lost those expanded Child Tax Credit payments, our extra SNAP benefits, and nearly our health coverage too thanks to onerous read tape, even though we qualify for Medicaid.
Last year, after being on the waiting list for two years for a Section 8 housing voucher, I was finally able to start the process of getting a place to live. But even now there are layers of approval that can take months to complete. I’m still waiting.
In times like these, neighbors look out for each other. But there’s only so much people can do on their own. With the need so high here in Georgia, the food banks have less to share—and what they do have is primarily dried beans and old bread.
What we really need is to renew, expand, and cut red tape for those safety net programs that are proven to keep people above water. And we need to work together to get it.
I received a flyer about a meeting of the Georgia Chapter of the Poor People’s Campaign and I attended. I felt so empowered that I’m now one of the Tri-Chairs for the Georgia Chapter.
I’m helping to see that the nearly 2.5 million poor and low-income voters here make it to the polls to back candidates who support a living wage, a healthy safety net, and other policies to help us meet our families’ basic needs.
I hope you’ll join where you live. Together we’ll make a difference.