Why Don’t We Trust Food Pantry Clients?

“Do you see how much food that woman took? That’s so much food. What do you think she’s going to do with it all?”

I recently had a volunteer quietly ask this in my ear as we watched a woman and her daughter walk out of our food pantry with a shopping cart brimming with heads of lettuce, an assortment of fresh fruit, bell peppers, bags of dry beans, potato chips, and a variety of other foods.

“I think she’s going to eat it,” is my dry reply. “Hopefully that’s enough to support her family for the week.”

Unfortunately, this isn’t a rare question. It’s practically engrained in our culture that anyone who uses welfare is viewed with skepticism.

The idea that hard work always begets success is so engrained into our national psyche that people who aren’t successful are assumed to be so because they make bad choices. And if they make bad choices, can they really be trusted to choose their own food?

Whenever I participate in discussions on the realities of hunger, I hear people invent stories vilifying food pantry shoppers based on the amount of food they take (or the car they drive, the language they speak, or their level of gratitude, but those are topics for another post). Perhaps the clients are just hoarders, but maybe they’re selling it?

Even though abuse of the emergency food system is incredibly rare, a pervasive suspicion of individuals who use welfare means that people simply trying to feed their families are regularly labeled as greedy, exploitive, or lazy.

How did we get here?

The 1970s saw the first food pantries emerge alongside the attitude that short-term catastrophic events, rather than poverty, pushed people into food insecurity. It was assumed that the impacts of a job loss, illness, or natural disaster were only temporary, so immediate food resources rather than reliability or volume were the appropriate solution. The offering of several days’ worth of food was considered adequate until individuals were able to “pull themselves up by their bootstraps” and regain self-sufficiency.

Economic prosperity also fostered the idea that it was always possible to work your way out of poverty. Food pantries were created to support people through these temporary crises and were never intended as a solution for chronic hunger.

The 1980-90s and the mythical “welfare queen” fostered a tightening of food assistance programs out of fear that they bred dependency rather than independence. Reagan’s emphasis on welfare abuse and Clinton’s policies tightening access to Food Stamp cemented in America’s mind the idea that welfare recipients are always suspect.

Increasingly in the past decades, more and more Americans require regular support accessing food. Particularly since the Great Recession in 2008, families are dependent on food pantries as a regular resource rather than a temporary boost. Low wages and high costs of living mean that people can rarely work themselves out of poverty and are always short of the resources they need to survive.

Hunger is increasingly a chronic experience in the U.S., and millions of people regularly find themselves in situations where they never have enough money to buy food, even when they participate in other food access programs.

Despite this barrier, there’s remains widespread fear that if food pantries provide someone with all they need, this security will push them to quit working, buy lots of drugs, and eat lobster every day.

Through this lens of suspicion, food pantries justify limiting clients to enough food for only several days at a time.

What is our goal?

We know food pantries can’t solve hunger- a systemic problem of this size requires a systemic solution of equal scale. But what food pantries can do is alleviate some of the immediate burdens of living in poverty.

Nearly all food pantry clients have some kind of income- but they must choose whether to spend it on food, rent, healthcare, or other essential needs.

 Institutions committed to building food security should aspire to reduce the amount of money that their clients spend on food. Limiting the amount of food that clients can get at the pantry to a 2–3-day supply (generally considered the industry standard) ensures that shoppers still must make hard choices about where to spend their money. Their only other option is to visit multiple food pantries until they have enough food that they’re able to eat and pay the rent or purchase their medications.

While recognizing that even the most abundant, generous food pantries are only a band-aid to a much bigger problem, they are an essential resource for ensuring all our neighbors eat every day.

When we allow these services to be dominated by bias and assumption, they create a less dignified and less effective experience, and perpetuate the struggles of people living in poverty.

If the end goal is to ensure that everyone in our community has the food they need to thrive, then we need to start by ensuring that resources like food pantries offer their services with respect and understanding of the realities of food insecurity. And that begins by trusting the people who seek our help. If we believe that everyone deserves to eat, then we need to make sure we practice that ideal to the fullest.

The opinions expressed here are solely my own and do not express the views or opinions of my employer.

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