The following morning, as we ate our provided toast and jam, we listened to that morning’s speaker, Malaki Obado Ogendi, discuss traditional agriculture in his home country of Kenya. He ended by giving us tips for working communally: start at home, involve the young, make it social and fun, share knowledge and produce, and make informed choices.
After the speakers, the attendees broke up to attend small group sessions. Christopher and I went to a session called Nutritional Racism. I was surprised to learn that one of the factors used for predicting overall health is the zip code of a person’s residency. Poor communities tend to be located near freeways, factories, and waste. It is more likely that the sidewalks and parks are not kept up, and food apartheid is most prevalent in poor communities. In our neighborhood, we have four health food stores within a few miles of one another. Aside from those, there are several major chain grocery stores throughout our town. Our city also has many parks for people and dogs. Conversely, poor communities may not have parks or walking trails for people to get exercise, let alone the money for gym memberships. If there are trails in the neighborhood, it may not be safe to walk for exercise. Christopher and I belong to a gym that I often say we “donate” our money to. Like many people, we will get motivated and go several times a week for a month or so, and then as soon as we get busy or distracted, exercise is one of the first things to go.
When we were in the session, we were asked what we thought were indicators of ill health. I had no idea, and Christopher had guessed stress. This was high in the factors that we discussed in our session. While everyone experiences stress in their lives, people living near the poverty level may have a higher level of stress. On top of the typical stressors of work and family, there may be the added stress of whether or not a bill can be paid. There is also food insecurity: The concern about where the next meal is coming from, or if there will be a next meal, can definitely heighten anxiety. During the dollar project and the thrifty food project, despite the fact that we might not have been eating enough, or what we wanted to eat, we still knew that at least we would be eating something. Even so, we were far more stressed than we were when we weren’t limiting our food budget. We walked out of that session discussing the privileges that we have.
As we waited in line for our Food Not Bombs lunch, we relished the near-festival atmosphere of the conference. Under the shade of a tree was a woman teaching people how to make canned jams and jellies. Two kids wrestled with their dad, climbing on him like a jungle gym. Another area was covered in cardboard boxes and foil, where people learned how to make their own solar cookers. But the main event happened right in front of us. Out of nowhere, a troop of people dressed as produce pranced out to a central area and began to sing and dance. They sang about the importance of eating fruits and vegetables, but I think my favorite song was about produce having to travel great distances to arrive on your plate, illustrated by a carrot wearing a beret. We got our vegetable and barley soup and a couple slices of bread, and sat under a tree to watch the end of the singing vegetable show.
We only had time for one more session that day, and it was the one that was most helpful for our understanding of our project. It was titled “Bottom of the Barrel: Why does San Diego have the worst food stamp participation in the entire country, and what can we do to change it?”
I knew that California had the lowest food stamp participation in the country, but I didn’t know that San Diego had the worst participation in California. According to the workshop, the state’s participation rate is 50 percent. This means that of all the people in California who would qualify for food stamps, 50 percent do not apply for or receive them, for whatever reason. In San Diego, at the time of the conference, the participation rate was 30 percent.
While there are numerous reasons why so few eligible people receive benefits, one issue that was discussed was the fact that in order to receive benefits, it isn’t uncommon for people to have to visit the office an average of five times, with each visit averaging one hour, in order to get signed up and approved. These visits often mean time off from work, sometimes without pay. The appointments are scheduled at the convenience of the office, not the recipient, and the recipient can only meet with his or her own caseworker. If the caseworker is sick or out of work for any reason, the recipient has to wait for him or her to return before any issues can be addressed. This may cause a delay in receiving or continuing benefits. Another deterrent is the fact that California is one of only a few states that also require fingerprinting before benefits are granted. The reason behind this is to prevent fraud, but it is costly and has done little to make a difference.
Maybe I have seen too many courtroom dramas, but I tend to associate fingerprinting with criminal activity. And while I understand wanting to prevent fraud, the cost of running the fingerprinting program is more than what is saved by preventing fraud. The program requires that everyone over eighteen in a household receiving SNAP benefits must be fingerprinted. The rate of fraud is estimated to be 2 percent. While doing our project, obviously Christopher and I didn’t have to go through the humiliating process of being fingerprinted. Nor did we have to spend hours filling out paperwork or taking time away from our jobs to go to the food stamp office. It seems that there are many obstacles to overcome to get assistance to feed your family.
As I’ve mentioned before, stigma is attached to food stamps. People make assumptions about why people need them. Often the first assumption is that the people in need are lazy. Just like in every situation in life, there will always be a select few who try to take advantage of the system, but the majority of the people receiving benefits depend on them for survival. The program requires that: “All able-bodied persons (ages 18–49) without dependents must work 20 hours per week (monthly average 80 hours), or participate 20 hours per week in an approved work activity or do workfare, or else get only 3 months of Food Stamps out of a 36-month period.”
Furthermore, some assume that people could eat healthfully if they wanted to, or if they were educated about how to eat better. While for some people this may be the case, there are many situations where education doesn’t matter if healthy options aren’t available or affordable. SPIN, the Supportive Parents Information Network in San Diego, a nonprofit, volunteer-run program that works to help families in need, has conducted studies that show that people tend to eat more healthfully at the start of the month. As the money runs out, the meals become less healthful. Additionally, parents report frequently skipping meals so that their children may eat.
One part of the issue that isn’t always considered is how increased participation in the SNAP program can support the community. It is estimated that for every $1 in food stamps spent, at least another $1.73 goes into the economy. If food stamps get people to a store, they are more willing to spend other money there as well. In addition, if they have food stamps, they may not have to make a choice between food and bills or medicine.
On the way to the car after the conference, we left feeling hopeful. Many of those in attendance were dedicated to making fresh, healthy food available to everyone, regardless of their economic situation. It was at the conference that we learned about some of the ways people are involved in making change. Specifically, we became interested in the farmers market and plans for a community farm in City Heights, the area of San Diego most in need of assistance. We were stunned to find out that when it comes to food insecurity and providing people with access to food, San Diego is the worst in the nation.
Christopher and I decided to visit the farmers market in City Heights, to see the efforts being made there. Through collaboration between the San Diego Chapter of the International Rescue Committee and the San Diego Farm Bureau, every week several local farmers bring their produce to City Heights. Right away, it was apparent that this farmers market differed from the one we are used to visiting. Ours is held at a local elementary school and has a wide variety of vendors and booths. In addition to fresh produce, you can purchase everything from c
rafts to fresh bread to addictive garlic spread. There is usually someone playing live music to the legions of locavores. The City Heights market has a central location: On one corner is the police station, on another is the community college that offers free adult education classes. The community center and library are across the street, and on the opposite side are two low-income housing buildings and a community garden.
There are significantly fewer vendors, as this market is relatively new, and that day there weren’t many customers. However, as we walked past the booths, we saw fresh greens stacked up and boxes of vegetables. One vendor had long, slender, vibrant purple eggplants and dark green zucchinis at least a foot long. What I first thought was a place for bike parking was a group of young punk rock volunteers teaching people how to rebuild and repair bikes. But that wasn’t why we went.
A table underneath a white canopy stood at the far end. There was a laptop, a wireless card-swiping machine, a group of volunteers in colorful City Heights farmers market T-shirts, and a sign that said: “Use your EBT card here!!!”
EBT cards (which have replaced the food stamp coupons) are swiped in exchange for tokens that can be used at any time at the farmers market. It is rare even to find a farmers market in a low-income area, let alone one that accepts EBT. In addition to helping people who already receive benefits, the San Diego IRC has volunteers helping to prescreen people to find out if they qualify for the SNAP program and fill out initial paperwork for their application. Their volunteers speak Spanish, Vietnamese, and Somali.
According to Andrea Magee, an employee with the IRC, City Heights has the lowest participation rate in San Diego. This booth was one of the busiest at the time we arrived. As we waited in line to talk to someone, an older woman came up to find out why there were so many people crowded around, and learned that she might qualify for a one-time senior voucher. Two women, one of whom helped to translate, assisted a Somalian man. No one was turned away as the volunteers explained the processes and helped people with their questions. While we waited, we noticed a survey asking customers how the market’s prices compared to those at the grocery store. Most of the feedback indicated that the prices were “similar” or “better.” When we spoke with two of the workers, we learned that they do surveys every week to better serve their customers and vendors.
This particular market is able to offer what they call “Fresh Funds.” Money is donated to the program and is distributed each week, so that people who spend five dollars at the market get an additional five dollars’ worth of tokens to spend there. Incentives like this encourage people to use their money on fresh fruits and vegetables while helping local farmers. While there are other farmers markets that accept EBT, they are the exception. There is still an attitude across income levels that farmers markets are for people with money.
After our experience at City Heights, Christopher and I were ready to make our money go further. We weren’t necessarily eating as inexpensively as possible because we were staying close to the Thrifty Food Plan. By the end of the second week, we had spent $198.09 out of our $247.80 budget. We still had plenty of food at home, and $49.51 left to make it the next two weeks. If we had been eating only on the food stamp average, we would have already overspent by $18.09. If we hadn’t been trying to follow the plan, we could have found ways to eat less expensive foods, and might have had more money left over.
10
Food Fight
Christopher
With only six weeks of the school year left, the pressure was on to help students prepare for finals, get the last couple issues of the student newspaper out, and wrap everything else up in time for summer. The end of the school year is both a time of great stress and great relief, as it is challenging to manage the progress of 150 students all heading for the finish line. In addition to advising both the journalism and social justice programs, I could feel summer coming, and as the final days grew closer, the heat in my students grew as well.
By the third week of the experiment, we had pretty much figured out how to work within the USDA’s plan, but working with each other proved a little more daunting. Kerri was sprinting to close the school year. While students stress about grades and finishing assignments, we teachers work extra hours to provide support for them, leaving less patience for one another. After being flexible all day for students, problem solving at home—especially for mundane things like cooking and laundry—was nearly impossible. There were times when the added stress elicited rolled eyes and snippy comments in the kitchen as we struggled to follow the Thrifty Food Plan. While our experience at the Food Justice conference was both enlightening and motivational, the reality of working as public school teachers made everything a touch more difficult during the week.
It was only Tuesday, but for both of us, it felt as if we had been working all week; we were exhausted. Kerri looked at the menu: crispy chicken, lima beans, and canned peaches. Having adjusted the menu to allow for leftovers, we turned one of the lunch options into a dinner dish. The only problem was that we were out of seitan, our cheap go-to meat alternative. The recipe instructed that you bread the chicken in a seasoned flour mixture and then roll the pieces in cornflakes before baking and eating with barbecue sauce. I was actually looking forward to the dish, but one thing I never look forward to is running out to the store to pick up ingredients after having been at work all day. We had misjudged part of our shopping and left out this key ingredient.
“Could you go to the store?” Kerri asked.
I continued staring at my book.
“Hello?”
I had no interest in putting my shoes back on and getting in the car to run a grocery errand. For the record, I didn’t want Kerri to have to go, either. Kerri was pissed. Even though I knew it wouldn’t fly, I tried one of my usual excuses.
“I’m in my underwear.”
Kerri stared in utter amazement at the banality of my response.
“Oh, really?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Before I could turn to defend my position, Kerri had kicked off her shoes and was in the process of unbuttoning her work pants.
“You don’t have to do that,” I offered.
“Apparently I do! Whenever we need something from the store, I’m always the one who has to go and get it!” she said.
In a matter of seconds, she had leveled the playing field by stripping down to her undies. She had made her point, and no overtures to the contrary would save me.
“All right, I’ll go,” I capitulated.
Her disbelief at my indolence was clear, so I pulled on some jeans and made for the door before things got any worse.
ON MY DRIVE to the store, I thought about how lucky we were to live in an area where we had the option to shop without too much hassle, how we had the luxury to choose which store to shop at, and how we were fortunate enough to have a car. Unlike those living in locations where food apartheid is the reality, we were indeed lucky. I parked in front of Jimbo’s, grabbed the shopping bag, and headed inside. I hoped that my making the run would ease the situation back home.
A woman in front of me plopped her infant into a shopping cart, and I paused to give her a moment to get through the entrance. She pushed her baby and cart through the automatic doors, and at that moment I thought of something that I had never fully considered before. Shopping carts, in addition to helping customers collect items, evolved with mothers in mind. What started as a place for food became a place for a baby as well. The original shopping cart was invented by Sylvan Goldman in 1936 and looked more like a folding chair with room for two wire baskets, one above and one below. Women scoffed at the idea initially, as it felt too much like a baby carriage. However, just in time for the baby boomers, the shopping cart evolved.
I watched the woman put her purse in the part of the cart closest to her and continued thinking about the division of labor within the home. When I was a child, my mom did most of the cooking and cleaning, and it seemed like the only time I saw a m
an putting together a meal was outside, at the grill. The tradition of women working in the kitchen and serving the family is one that has developed and changed over time, but after the contributions made to the war effort during World War II, any post-wartime independence for women was publicly discouraged. Women were reminded that their place to be creative was in the home. In a speech titled “The Women in Your Lives,” Marjorie Husted, the creator of Betty Crocker, explained to advertisers that women should feel that “a homemaking heart gives her more appeal than cosmetics, that good things baked in the kitchen will keep romance far longer than bright lipstick.” The popular belief was that women should not work outside the home, and that those who didn’t “had a more interesting time” than those who did.
As women’s roles evolved, with more women working outside the home, the responsibility to cook for the family didn’t evolve into a shared responsibility. Women now had to work and prepare meals for the family. This crunch for time gave food processors the perfect opportunity to create meals that were prepackaged, canned, and frozen in order to meet the needs of women who worked both inside and outside the home.
I knew of this struggle firsthand. After my parents divorced, my mom still cooked quite a bit, but she also had to work during the day and go to classes at night to finish her degree, which meant that the meals were more often boxed macaroni and cheese and canned soup than the homemade pot pies from before they split. My sister and I spent every other weekend at my father’s house, and as stated earlier, we ordered pizza or went to a local restaurant. We didn’t complain, as these were the few times we were able to eat out, but the difference between how each of our parents provided for us was quite distinct. I wondered if the woman in front of me was in a similar situation.
On a Dollar a Day: One Couple's Unlikely Adventures in Eating in America Page 12
