Month: April 2024

Why is College Hunger a Joke?

Eating nothing but ramen is often considered a rite of passage for college students.

Young adults heading off to school are gifted care packages stuffed with ramen in various flavors, and are taught to expect that these cheap, nutritionally bereft meals are the responsible way to survive a tight budget. Poor nutrition and limited meals are deemed just part of the experience.

The idea of young adults living on ramen is so normalized that it is often treated as a joke.

How did we get here?

If you imagine the stereotypical demographic of someone experiencing hunger in the US, what do they look like?

My guess is you envisioned a senior or a single mother with children. Those are the two demographics consistently portrayed as the most “deserving” of food assistance.

Because seniors and children are more vulnerable to conditions around them, anti-hunger programs have long prioritized uplifting these populations. As a result of this focus, 7% of American seniors were food insecure in 2021 (the most recent data I found.) Approximately 8% of households with children experience food insecurity.

In comparison, on average, 12.8% of the American population is food insecure.

Hunger rates for children and seniors, although still unacceptably high, are low relative to other demographics. That is specifically because targeted efforts are successful. Programs like Meals on Wheels and the National School Lunch Program effectively reduce hunger for these populations.

In contrast to seniors and children, in 2020 approximately 34% of college students were food insecure (although other reports regularly place that number closer to 50%.) This high hunger rate is often a surprise- we tend to stereotype college student as comfortably supported and funded by their parents. But this is no longer the reality.

The demographics of college student have changed. Since the Great Recession in particular, attendance at community college has grown, the age of the average student has increased, their responsibilities outside of school are greater, and they have less external support.

Considering the exorbitant cost of tuition and books on top of paying rent, childcare and utilities, it should be no surprise that college students are left with few resources to buy food. But because our culture has normalized and even romanticized student hunger, organized efforts and policies to combat it are lacking.

Recognizing that targeted approaches reduce hunger, we need to improve food access for college students. Generalized tactics only support the populations already most empowered with the strongest access, while addressing demographics with the greatest barriers offers the most opportunity for impact.

Because of stereotypes and dismissive attitudes, college students may be disinclined to seek help but also face limited access to transportation, cooking facilities, or juggle inconsistent schedules that make it hard to visit a food pantry. A solution that works for a working parent or a resident of a shelter may not work for a student. To end student hunger, we need more and stronger policies specifically recognizing the needs of this demographic. Anti-hunger programs of all types need to consider how accessible they are for college students.

We are failing students by fostering a culture that permits, and even jokes about, student food insecurity. No one learns well without a nourishing, healthy diet, no matter their age.

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

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Do Food Pantry Clients Deserve to Make Their Own Choices?

“Is it okay if I take two cans of beans today?” a food pantry shopper asked me recently as I was volunteering at one of my favorite local food pantries.

“You can actually take as many as you like- this whole room is unlimited,” I was happy to respond. The shopper’s eyes grew big, and they grabbed two more cans- totaling four of the kidney beans, and excitedly moved down the line. Other shoppers who were clearly regulars moved more confidently, some bypassing the canned goods entirely while others took several flats of the beans in my section. I estimate we averaged about three cans of each item per household for the day, although amounts ranged wildly among individuals.

Allowing this freedom of choice for shoppers is a radically controversial practice in the food banking community. There is an archaic, unsubstantiated fear that food pantry shoppers (and welfare recipients in general), are always seeking to exploit the system.

Setting limits on foods is often considered essential to protect from abuse. This attitude is based on the fundamental belief that food insecurity is a personal failing- that America is the land of opportunity where anyone can succeed with enough determination- and that poverty results from poor judgement, moral weakness, or a lack of effort.

This attitude justifies the strict policies that structure American anti-hunger programs.

Despite the rarity of welfare abuse, every conversation I initiate on the subject inevitably produces someone arguing with conviction that any misuse of welfare is intolerable, and we need stricter controls to prevent it. They’ve internalized the notion that welfare recipients have poor judgement which led them to poverty and need careful supervision to keep them on the right track.

This argument reinforces my belief that the fundamental problem with America’s anti-hunger culture is not that we’re short of resources, but that we have developed a system that focuses on punitive action and mistrust instead of solving the problem.

The focus on welfare abuse is the impetus for policies like time limits and work requirements for SNAP, and quantity and attendance limits at food pantries.

Rather than focusing on meeting the need or ending hunger, anti-hunger policies limit access to resources and deliberately ensure that they’re inadequate.

Arguments in favor of strengthening these limitations are justified by concerns about money wasted- that misused funds are lost opportunities to support those who “truly need it.” However, this argument doesn’t hold up. It’s not really about the money.

If we’re worried about everyone meeting their responsibilities when it comes to government funding, why does the discussion focus on welfare? There are hundreds of other examples of “wasted” federal funds with much higher price tags.

For example, wealthy Americans may deprive the US of up to $175 billion dollars a year in tax evasion. I have yet to hear someone concerned about welfare fraud express any frustration about rich people abusing the system, even though the impact is significantly higher than a few misspent SNAP dollars.

Why do we treat the person with an EBT card with more suspicion than we do the person driving a Lamborghini?

Fundamentally, our national consciousness views poverty as an indicator of immorality, and by institutionalizing this conviction, we’ve hobbled ourselves in the fight against hunger.

Limiting anti-hunger resources both perpetuates and reinforces the idea that people experiencing hunger are corrupt and looking to exploit the system. This is why we see discomfort with the idea that people in poverty have access to all the food they need. We still believe they haven’t “earned” it.

Anti-hunger organizations at every level need to examine their policies to see where they have internalized and institutionalized the attitude that people facing food insecurity can’t be trusted. Until our focus is on ending hunger instead of enforcing our narrow idea of morality, we’ll never be able to solve this problem.

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

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Why You Oppose Giving People Too Much Free Food

I once worked with a food pantry leader who liked to prowl their pantry taking photos of the full shopping carts of clients. They used these photos to advocate for limiting how much food their visitors were allowed to take, adamant that no one really needed that much.

Why did they believe people were taking too much food?

Our client’s shopping carts were full.

The assumption about the needs of our visitors had nothing to do with the reality of their situation- whether they had a big family or only shopped once every three months or had a specific nutritional requirement. It was entirely based on the discomfort of seeing an individual living with hunger experience an abundance of food unconditionally.

While I wish this was a unique scenario, in my decade of food justice advocacy I’ve found that people are much more likely to have concerns about giving food pantry clients too much food than too little. Inevitably, someone voices fears that, left unrestricted, clients take more than they need, make inappropriate selections or don’t make the most efficient or cost-effective choices. 

Food pantries intend to prevent hunger by distributing free food. Why is there such a strong conviction that we have to control and limit these resources to end hunger?

As a student of American history, a quote from the author Horatio Alger (known for his rags-to-riches novels) comes to mind.

“The difference between the rich merchant and the ragged fellow who solicits his charity as he is stepping into his carriage, consists, frequently, not in natural ability, but in the fact that the one has used his ability as a stepping-stone to success, and the other has suffered his to become stagnant, through indolence, or dissipation.”

Horatio Alger, Ragged Dick

Horatio Alger’s 19th century stories about young men escaping poverty through sheer grit and determination are foundational to our nation’s conviction that hard work inevitably fosters success.

The ability to “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” is a primary tenet of the American dream and weighs heavily on efforts to end hunger. We’re taught to believe that the failure to be food secure is a personal one, typified by someone too weak-willed, corrupt, or lazy to put in the effort.

If you fundamentally believe that food pantry clients experience hunger because of a personal failing, it’s logical to endorse the idea that they need guidance from more successful individuals to direct them down a better path.

This justifies controlling how much food shoppers take and basing these limits on our comfort level rather than the reality of the need.

What do people mean when they are concerned about food pantry clients taking “too much food?” Often, I hear that “too much” means any more than the bare minimum for survival. It means having a couple cans left over by the time of the next pantry visit. It’s a whole family eating a heaping, unrestricted serving at meals. It means having leftovers. Referencing the Horatio Alger myth, it is enjoying abundance without earning it through the perseverance we think escaping poverty demands.

Food pantries may occasionally implement limits because of a constrained food supply. However, it’s important to examine the instinct to restrict food based on our comfort level and the judgements we make about poverty when implementing programs to eradicate it.  

The fear of someone experiencing hunger taking “too much food” ultimately hobbles how effectively we combat the problem. Food justice organizations need to actively encourage abundance and provide the needed resources without imposing assumptions about hunger upon those living the reality.

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

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Why Food Banks Can’t End Hunger

When people don’t have enough to eat, giving them food can seem like a good solution. However, hunger isn’t that simple. Food isn’t enough.

Providing people with emergency food is an essential responsibility. People need food to live and to thrive, so the importance of services provided by food banks cannot be overstated.

However, giving away free food does little to end hunger in the long-term.

While we can hope that providing food at a food pantry frees up a couple dollars for buying other necessities, it is unlikely. People only visit a food pantry when they are short of money for food in the first place, so while the food may keep families fed in the moment, it rarely empowers them to change their spending. Shopping at a food pantry is more likely to free up funds to pay rent or a utilities bill, or buy medication, or new shoes for their kids, than to build savings. It can allow people to better meet their immediate needs, but is unlikely to change outcomes. The idea that a couple dollars savings can change our financial outcomes just won’t die, which is why people continue to argue that minimal aid is enough to pull someone out of poverty (and why poverty is an indicator of a lack of effort).

But giving away free food is easier than digging into the root causes of hunger. When we recognize that food isn’t the answer, we must examine the conditions that make people food insecure in the first place.

While hunger is largely typified as an individual problem and a personal failing, data shows that systemic barriers are the root causes of poverty and hunger.

Giving food away to single mothers does little to empower them if they make less money than their male peers. Offering food assistance to LGBTQ+ individuals is only a small help when they face increased risks of employment and housing discrimination due to their identity. Free food for BIPOC individuals is inadequate insulation against daily racial discrimination, harassment, and violence.

Discrimination ensures that vulnerable populations make less money and have less stability, which increases their capacity to access food and risk of food insecurity.

In America, we love to believe that working hard begets success, and that a lack of success is a symptom of laziness, poor judgement, or a personal failure. This attitude excuses us from addressing the inequalities that perpetuate hunger.

While it’s certainly discouraging to recognize that we can’t end hunger through our local food pantry or food rescue program, when we don’t call this out we perpetuate the blame and shaming of hunger on the individual. Systemic problems require systemic solutions, and that starts with evolving our understanding of the root causes of hunger and poverty.

Food banking is an essential tool for keeping our neighbors fed, but it is not the vehicle through which we can end hunger.

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

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You Can’t Build Food Justice Through Efficiency

I recently had a conversation with a volunteer at a food pantry who voiced frustration that the organization didn’t seem to be thinking about the client experience. They observed that volunteers were being discouraged from restocking empty shelves even when there was ample food, and that clients were told they should “come earlier” to get high-demand items rather than asking volunteers to help meet their needs.

Due to a shortage of help, leadership was seeking to increase efficiency and reduce the demands on volunteers. As a result, clients were exasperated and volunteers fearful that the shopping experience was increasingly humiliating and disrespectful.

I understand these decisions and why they happen. Managing a pantry’s food supply in all its complexity is exhausting and takes careful juggling, rapid assessment, and confidence in your instincts. (Overseeing food flow is one of my favorite parts of pantry operations- it’s an art form!)

The nonprofit sector is intimately aware that volunteer rates are decreasing. While many organizations experienced a surge in volunteering during the pandemic when unemployment was high, most have now returned to work and cut back on their service.

As a result, food pantries are rethinking their operations to run with less help, and the primary way to do that is by increasing efficiency. While it is an essential component of any institution, this volunteer’s concerns demonstrate how it can also subtract focus from the true mission of fighting hunger.

Why not efficiency?

Efficiency is all about achieving a goal with as little energy, waste, or effort as possible. In many businesses, this is important and logical. But when it comes to anti-hunger efforts, it’s vital to remember what your organization is really hoping to achieve. If our mission is to end hunger, then efficiency may not be the best path forward.

There is an intensely emotional component of using food assistance. It can feel incredibly vulnerable to ask for help.

I’ve heard hundreds of stories from people who had a negative experience at a food pantry and chose to go without food rather than risk such treatment again.  Even worse, individuals may internalize the idea that they must undergo disrespect to deserve this help (“I need to be grateful for whatever I can get”).

Both experiences are unacceptable.

How can food pantries ensure that they are not sacrificing the client experience in favor of efficiency?

The most important component is to develop an organizational culture that prioritizes dignity and intentionality. Food pantries with cultures that concentrate on the client experience empower their volunteers to go the extra mile for individuals walking through their doors.

Whatever your goal is, here’s how to examine the balance of efficiency and dignity within your organization:

Unlike a for-profit business, the end goal does not justify the means. We’re not building food justice if clients leave feeling disrespected, neglected, or without the food their family needs to feel nourished and safe. We’re failing in our services if the volunteer experience sacrifices that of individuals seeking food assistance.

Negative volunteering experiences reduce the number of volunteers, which further pushes organizations to lean on efficiency over dignity. Without intervention, this produces an endless cycle that leaves neither clients nor volunteers feeling fulfilled or satisfied.

While we should always be brainstorming ways to improve food assistance, it’s important that we do so in ways that lift up food justice first, even at the expense of efficiency.

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

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