As I type this, forty-two million Americans have lost their SNAP benefits. With no fault of their own, almost 13% of the population will not be given federal funds that were secured for their use. Out of those forty-two million, just over sixteen million are children.
I am letting this sink in for a moment. Sixteen million children are currently unsure of when, where, or even how food will be present for them.
The bottom line of human existence is safety and survival. We find shelter, food, and water, and this tells our body that we are safe in some way. When any one of those things is taken away or difficult to find, our brain starts to fire from specific places. The other parts of our brain that take in new information for processing or to feel enjoyment or peace is essentially paused until we feel safe again.
There is a term in the educational neuroscience world called “chronic trauma”. It is the state that children who come from hard places are in on a daily basis. Food insecurity is a traumatic experience. We now know that trauma changes the brain – even more so when it is experienced daily.
The responsibilities of children include making it to a bus stop, participating in group projects, getting hot and sweaty on the playground during recess, eating pizza and drinking chocolate milk in a loud lunchroom, laughing with their friends, and feeling loved by their teachers. Their job is to take quizzes and tests, use pencils, write papers, and work out how to multiply fractions. They are learning every day how to make friends, forgive friends, stand up for themselves, and treat others with kindness. And for many students in public school, they take multiple high-stakes standardized tests that heavily impact their own graduation pathways.
We know that children who live in underserved areas with food insecurities have higher rates of anxiety, chronic illness, and school absences, poor test scores, hyperactivity, aggression, and withdrawal from school activities. Teachers and families will soon begin to feel the strain from this.
Have the men and women sworn to serve the American public intentionally placed this reality out of sight, or do they simply not understand the damage being done?
I never thought that I would see judges forced to tell elected officials from the highest office that they, in fact, have a duty to provide access to allocated funds for sixteen million children.
With a finger pointing at every eligible voting American, let this be a reminder of our shared humanity.
Hungry children did not ask, nor do they deserve to be political pawns in a game they care nothing about.
We, the people, are the ones losing here. And if you are feeling exhausted by it all, then you are paying attention. My conscience has been stirred and groans daily over things that are simply beyond my control. But I remind myself that I am not powerless.
As I write this, I look up just now to see my seven-year-old across the street playing in the leaves with her two closest neighbor friends. There is a group of tween middle school boys playing a game of football in the open green space.
The lives of children continue to go on even as my mind is filled with heaviness for it all. They deserve better, and we must not look away.
