A Story Shared and Written by Shanna Miles
Food insufficiency is something that we often think about around the holidays. We donate canned goods and non-perishable items like macaroni and cheese and maybe an odd box of stuffing. We feel good about ourselves because we know that somewhere in our community, there is maybe a family that has just a little more than they would have because of our generosity. We drink. We are merry and life does as it will and goes on.
“As the clock ticks close to the end of the thirty days and I have been contemplating if I can make anything with green beans and chocolate cake, finally something has been done. ”
In January, those families are still hungry and struggling more now because of the demands of a holiday season and maybe hours have been cut, bills are due. When your kids are hungry, you give up any shred of dignity you have remaining and ask for help anywhere you can get it. I know this very well because I have gone to food banks. I have sat in the DHHR office for hours on end before COVID. I’ve filled our reams of papers and probably initialed enough forms, I should be in business. I’ve looked people in the eye and pleaded my case on several occasions to be treated like I was using the system. Now it’s February and again the weather has the main breadwinner in our family laid off. I find whatever job I can while we wait for up to thirty days for our case to be processed. My identity proven and then looked down on for my mistakes and missteps as I asked again to just be able to feed my children. As the clock ticks close to the end of the thirty days and I have been contemplating if I can make anything with green beans and chocolate cake, finally something has been done.
“ I’ve definitely given my children seconds while I nibbled peanut butter crackers and I’d do it again in a heartbeat but, I shouldn’t have to.”
I get $200 a month to feed us all because remember, I got that low paying job and he gets a small amount of unemployment. Suddenly, with our gross income, we are no longer available for Medicaid and only a menial amount of food stamps. Our GROSS income. Not even what we actually bring home after the government takes their cut. Standing at this crossroads, what do you do? It’s June and time for a review. Again, I must provide at least four back paystubs proving what I GROSSED in this period. That has to be added to a paper from unemployment proving what he now makes a week. During this time there has been stress and strain. I remember losing my cool one time in the office. I yelled at that poor woman before I could stop myself and cried in the parking lot forever. I’ve been judged. I’ve been helped, thank God for that, but I’ve been judged. Invisible illness, such as some autoimmune disorders, is often mistaken for willful laziness by the willfully ignorant. I share my story in hopes that no one else has to go through the trials and the judgement along the way while they try to better their lives. I’ve dined like a queen, I’ve eaten off that dining tray. I’ve definitely given my children seconds while I nibbled peanut butter crackers and I’d do it again in a heartbeat but, I shouldn’t have to. In the America we live in, there is no reason any of our citizens need to ever be hungry. They should have lower cost fresh food available to them. Options to trade labor in gardens for food, neighbors helping neighbors. I want to live in that America again.