I’ve done the unthinkable. Today, I killed my best friend.
My pal who I used to cherish on sandwiches, my favorite flavor of cereal, the secret ingredient in some of my dinners, the best topper to any dessert.
Peanut butter is dead.
OK, a bit dramatic, but peanut butter has been my fail-safe, go-to food for years. I never dreamed of a world where peanut butter didn't taste good. But now I’m living in it, and I’ll tell you something, it’s gray.
It’s not all bad, though. Although my overdose of peanut butter sandwiches has had some casualties, it has also helped me to survive through Thursday on a mere $6. Bread, peanut butter, bananas, and orange juice (most purchased on sale or with a coupon) have carried me through breakfast and dinner and left me $17 to spice up my lunches. I’m not much of a snack person, so this strategy has worked well and helped me keep some semblance of balance. Sacrifice in the morning and at night, normal meal mid-day.
Saturday is a mere 24 hours away and I can’t wait to get back to my normal eating routine. Not just for the food, but for the convenience. I’m always on the go, so I eat out a lot. This week has taken a lot of grade school planning and diligence. It’s the hope for Saturday that keeps pushing me through this challenge.
And realizing that (and sticking to the dramatic theme), I started pondering about hope. How when I was dying for a home-cooked meal during those 'dark days' at college, when my friends still living out of their parents’ pockets wanted to go to the mall and I’d have to pass, favoring instead to spend my remaining dollars on gas to get to school or dinner off some dollar menu, that I always held on to the hope that it wouldn’t always be like this. That’s not to say college was awful. It was probably the best four years of my life. But once the meal plans were spent and I was working to pay for food and gas and rent, living on such a small budget got old and brought to the forefront why I was really there. I was shoveling every penny I had into my college education so I could someday afford to live a healthy lifestyle.
And now I can happily say I’m living in that reality. All that hard work has brought me somewhere that has given me the ability to stand on my own two feet and live comfortably.
But what do people living on SNAP hope for? They hope to make it through the day making sure their families don’t go hungry. They hope to someday say yes to their children when they ask for that treat at the grocery store that’s just a bit too pricey. They hope to make it through the grocery line without the fear that their SNAP card will be denied. They hope to someday leave food stamps behind.
And as this challenge comes to a close, I’m unsure of what I’ve learned from it. I’ve learned the obvious: that this is no way to live, that things need to change.
But what can be done about it? Do we aim to change food stamps or the people who use them? Is it a bit of both? Is minimum wage the problem?
Every time I think I have an answer, more questions pop up. If anything can be taken from following this week's Food Stamp Challenge, I hope it's an understanding that hunger is a very real problem for hardworking people across the country. And I hope that understanding comes with a sense of urgency to fix it.
--Ashley Sepanski, Blade Web Editor