Op-Ed Originally Posted on The Detroit News By Gerry Brisson and Angelique Power / Shared by The Skillman Foundation
Right now, as the federal government remains shut down, nearly 42 million
Americans are wondering how they’ll put food on the table. SNAP benefits, the
nation’s largest nutrition assistance program, hang in limbo. For many families, that
means the grocery money they count on to get through the month could vanish
overnight. When we talk about food aid, too often we reduce it to numbers and
programs. But food is far more than calories or policy. It’s how we welcome
neighbors, celebrate milestones and heal when life breaks our hearts. Across cultures
and faiths, food is sacred. It’s how we extend care and dignity to one another, how we
prove each day that we see and value each other as human beings. In our work, with
one of us leading a foundation rooted in community and the other leading a food
bank that feeds thousands every week, we see this truth daily.That’s why the
conversation about SNAP cannot just be about budgets or bureaucracy. It’s about
who we are as a people. When we make it harder for families to eat, we are
saying hunger is acceptable collateral damage. When we make sure everyone has
enough, we affirm our shared humanity.
Still, the public debate often turns away from that truth. Outdated stereotypes about
“food stamps” persist, tropes that paint recipients as dependent rather than
determined. The reality is far different. Most SNAP recipients are children, seniors,
veterans and working families who keep our communities running. Many workers
rely on SNAP while they are employed or searching for work. The program helps
households bridge gaps during short bouts of unemployment, cover fluctuating
earnings or stabilize persistently low wages. These are teachers’ aides, caregivers,
cashiers and delivery drivers — the people who show up every day to serve
others. Their lives are lessons in resilience and resourcefulness. The average person
receiving SNAP gets about $177 a month, barely six dollars a day, to help stretch a
food budget that’s already thin. That small amount keeps kids fed, parents focused
and elders nourished. Every dollar in SNAP benefits generates roughly $1.50 in local
economic activity. Feeding people doesn’t just ease suffering; it strengthens
communities. When that lifeline is cut off, everyone feels it. Food banks like Gleaners
brace for surges in demand we cannot fully meet. Nonprofits that don’t normally
operate as food pantries become them, redirecting dollars away from other needed
programs. Schools see more children arriving hungry and unable to learn. Hospitals
see more diet-related illness. The moral, economic and civic costs of neglect ripple
outward.
This moment is a test. Not of our politics, but of our compassion. Feeding people
should never be partisan. It is one of the simplest, oldest acts of humanity there is. So
what can any of us do while Washington debates? Start close to home. Support your
local food bank. Check in on a neighbor. Remind your community that hunger
anywhere diminishes all of us. If you can do one thing, be kind. If you can do two
things, be kind and generous in support of your community. If you can do three
things, be kind, generous and tell your elected representatives in Congress that
caring for one another and ensuring none of us goes hungry is the work of a strong
nation. Our nation’s true character, and the soul of its promise, are not measured by
the size of its economy or the power of its institutions. They are measured by the
tables we set, the meals we share and the care we extend to one another. That is
where our strength begins. Let’s make sure everyone has a place.
Gerry Brisson is the president & CEO of Gleaners Community Food Bank, which
exists to provide households throughout Southeast Michigan with access to
sufficient, nutritious food and related resources. Angelique Power is the president &
CEO of The Skillman Foundation, which provides more than $20 million annually
in grants to strengthen K-12 education and serves as a voice for Detroit children.
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