One Person's Food Pantry Experience

I got my first job when I was 15-years-old - that is, my first report-to-the-IRS job.  As a kid, I babysat a little (not enough to be a part of a Babysitters' Club or anything, though I loved those books!) and I always had money because I was a very good saver: I could sit on two years' worth of Christmas and birthday money if I really wanted something.  When I started working, I loved making my own money for two reasons: 1) I didn't have to ask for it and could spend it on whatever I wanted to without explanation (so, "freedom", I suppose) and 2) I knew my mom didn't have a lot of money and I didn't want to be a burden on her when it came to the "frivolous" stuff.  I spent over a year working as one of the best order-taking, register-running, salad-bar-cleaning teenagers that Sizzler's had ever seen!  Since then, the only year I have gone without working was my freshman year of college when my parents told me that my "job" was to adjust to being a college student.  (Note: I really love and appreciate my parents for that boost because I don't think college would have been completed if I had had more to focus on that first year.)

However, I was ready to be working by the end of that year, to be supporting myself - or at least fending for myself when I wanted a burger and a pack of cigarettes (so happy to be done with that expense!).  Sometime in my junior year, my dad had to give me the "patience, Grasshopper" talk when all I could think about was getting out of school and helping people, actually doing something to assist instead of being stuck in a classroom learning how to help people.  I learn through hands-on and discussion; I was just antsy to be "in the trenches" and see the difference I could make for someone.


While I fully appreciate my education and am thankful for the toolbox of resources I have due to the seven+ years I was in school after graduating high school, I know an intrinsic fact about myself:

I enjoy... NAH! I LOVE working! 

I love the feeling of accomplishment, I love praise for a job well-done, I love the interactions with other people, I love being exhausted at the end of the day due to learning, growing, helping, and exercising either my mind, body, or heart.  I LOVE being a part of a community and I love helping to move my community forward in whatever way I can.  And, as I am writing all of this, I have begun to cry because I don't have these loves right now... and haven't for a while.

About a month ago, I asked friends for ideas on ways I can work once Rob and I set sail because I want to be able to use all of this education and experience and motivation (not to mention, we will need some money at some point)!  I can't imagine that I did all of this for nothing than my own personal enrichment - I know that I did it with a purpose and for a reason!  I just think I am stuck in trying to find it...

One of those friends gave me some advice not on how to make money, but on how to save what we have and stock up on something we will need which would otherwise cost us now and down the road.  So, today, I went to a food pantry.  And, I cried.  There are so many things that my logical brain knows:

• This is not a "forever need" for us.  
• We have money right now to buy (cheap) groceries, but we need to save everything we can because that's all we have for an unknown amount of time without work.  
• And, it really is O.K. to accept help sometimes.

But the logical part of my brain is not what my tear ducts are paying attention to: I cry because I never thought I would have to do this... I never thought I would have to ask for help.  While I was earning two Masters' degrees and working part time for Planned Parenthood, I had a young family that I became friends with in my apartment complex.  They were in their early 20s and their son was about a year old; they both worked retail and did what they could do to get by.  I remember her telling me about the difficulty of getting through the WIC and food stamps systems: the paperwork, the difficulty of getting everyone at the office at the same time, the careful line they had to walk when it came to work hours because of how easily they could be kicked off the very-needed assistance with just a few too many overtime hours.

You wanna know how smug I had gotten?  I know that there was a moment in my head where I thought: "I am so glad that I always work so hard, I know how to save my money right, and that I am getting this education so that I never have to worry about being in this poor lady's shoes."  For the most part, I  looked at this situation as an anthropologist and public health student, wondering how a difficult system could be transformed to a more user-friendly format and actually encourage people to work.  But, for a split second, - if I'm being totally honest - I put myself above ever needing assistance.

And, today, I went to the food pantry for assistance.

I cried while I was there - I had no clue that I was going to... I had no clue that I would feel so crushed just by getting a little bit of help.  When I first got to the address, I was on the outside of a church that didn't say anything on the doors about where to go and there was no line to point me in the right direction.  So, I asked the security guard sitting in his golf cart where the food pantry was; my voice cracked a little on the word "pantry", making me say it a second time.  I could feel the red creep into my cheeks a little.

On the other side of the church where I had been directed to go, there were minivans and cars packed into the rounded driveway with people and coolers in a flurry of movement.  I asked one man if they were working with the food pantry, where I got a split second size-up and a quick, "No, this is Meals On Wheels - pantry is inside."  Inside, I was greeted by older lady who gave me paperwork and did a quick intake interview to verify the information on the paperwork I had filled out.  It was there that I started tearing up.

The volunteer was very gentle and stated that this time would pass and that - with prayer - the Lord would lead me to the job I need to be in.  She gave me a tissue, told me of her own need of assistance when she was a young, single mom of three, and gave me one list of temp agencies and another of more assisting agencies in the area.  She went on to tell me of the job postings in the hallway, a list of about 15 housecleaning and warehouse jobs throughout the Metroplex, some as far as 45 miles away but none that would have been easily reached by bus or train (again, the researcher in me instead of the crying human).  Both this woman and the man who brought me my bags from the back were very sweet people during my brief time there and I really appreciated their help.

Now, on the "suck up the tears and see the reality" side of things:  I told them that we were a family of two adults who have a small form of income (size of income only determines whether or not you qualify, though, not how much food you get).  I was told we can only go to this particular pantry one time a month and only six times in one year.  I left with: a box of Crixpix, five cans (one corn, three beans, and one applesauce), three small potatoes, six eggs, two rolls in a Baggie, a large package of spaghetti, and a frozen tube of ground turkey meat.  Well, I guess the turkey meat and the black beans can go together to make a sauce for the spaghetti... and the applesauce can replace milk for the cereal?

Tears be damned, I am happy that I don't have to rely solely on food pantries to provide for my family.  We are blessed that Rob is making some money and that this assistance now is for the staples we will need over the next year instead of for creating a meal for my family every night this week.  I am grateful for what they were able to give and that they do give recommendations in case people need more help, but I fully realize that I am still not in the same situation as that young family from my apartment complex or so many people who are not employed at this time.  I realize that we have some income to fill in the blanks of the supplement I received today - and, for that, I give thanks.

Now, mind you, not all food pantries are created equal - some are able to give more assistance than others and at a more frequent pace.  But, I think they are suppose to be supplemental, sort of a short-term leg up instead of being an escalator to "Easy Street" with no need to do for one's self again.  Food stamps can help those in desperate need of filling in the spaces that a food pantry must, unfortunately, leave; however, that system of bureaucracy is long, difficult, and unnavigable for some people.

Myself?  I would just prefer to work.

Now, if only getting a job in this economy was as easy as getting assistance: a short form, a brief interview, a few gut-wrenching tears of shame and frustration, and the crushing of most of one's dignity...  Easy-peesy, right?

Care to Help?  Each of us have neighbors in need, either the person in the house next to yours or someone in a neighboring country.  If you would like to help alleviate one American family's hunger, please make a financial donation to your local food bank.

Food banks are able to get bulk items, meaning that your money is able to buy more food through them than through you buying food and donating it.

If you would like to donate money to help alleviate the millions of people starving due to the devastating drought in the Horn of Africa, please contact United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF).
Here is the U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations speaking about the problem on The Colbert Report