The question came at the end of my workshop: ‘SNAP benefits (food assistance for low-income individuals and families) are being cut off in a week. With your workshop in mind, what do we do?’
Our workshop focused on how helpers can show up in key ways to support the growth of children and teens. I heard the question near the end of our time together after a moment of silent reflection. I admit that at that moment, I was not fully prepared to answer. So, I tried.
As I began to speak, I watched the faces of school administrators, social workers, and teachers waiting for my answer—professionals who would face hungry children on Monday morning.
I advised them to name the pain their students and their families are feeling. I encouraged those in the room to remember their motivations to serve, care for, and guide the development of young people. Finally, I shared one of my favorite inspirational stories taken from the work of the late academic scholar, Marcus J. Borg. He often heard questions like this, voices calling out from the place where hope and despair meet at a crossroads. When he could sense that the weight of social issues was overwhelming individual professionals, he would describe a way forward by using quilt-making as a metaphor. When you take loose, unused material, i.e. a patch, and repurpose them with other patches, you can make a whole quilt. What was an unused scrap is now a patch functioning as a tightly connected work of comforting art.
As I drove home, the look on the audience’s faces would not leave my mind. That room full of professionals sees policy at its most personal level. They know which students eat their only hot meal at school. Which families are one paycheck from eviction. Which teens are parenting siblings while parents work multiple jobs. Which families live in a shelter. Which teens arrive together in a van driven by a group home staff member. And now they’ll watch those families face the winter and its holidays without adequate food support. Unfortunately, for many, this time of year is when an experience of hurt becomes more real than ever.
So how do we engage? With several days now between that moment and this essay, I wish to add to my answer. Hurt during the holidays makes ordinary people feel less than human. Experiences of homelessness and hunger in a country of vast wealth compound the indignity. So, any revised answer that I might have starts there. The families affected, the staff who care for them, and the systems that interlock to provide a safety net must see, hear, and recognize the heartbreak they encounter.
I choose to hear the tone of heartbreak in the question that was bravely asked. In that exchange, I witnessed the dread among the school staff who will face needs beyond their capacity. Hunger and other forms of food insecurity are destabilizing and dehumanizing.
Since I also think the practical answer is a response that looks a lot like a community quilt, here’s what this kind of quilt looks like in practice:
- Your patch: Donate to local food banks—volunteer for weekend meal programs. Offer gift cards discreetly to families you know are struggling.
- The school’s patch: Extended meal programs. Discreet pantries. Connecting families to emergency resources without stigma.
- The community’s patch: Pressure elected officials to restore funding. Support organizations addressing root causes. Show up at school board meetings to advocate for food security programs.
Each action taken alone is insufficient. Together, these actions become something larger. Something strong enough to hold a community through an uncertain winter.
That workshop attendee asked a poignant question about how anyone can approach their work with families who are losing SNAP benefits. Here’s my revised answer: See their humanity in the dehumanizing moment. Name their pain. Offer your patch. And remember that individual action, multiplied across a community, means something more than goodwill—it becomes tangible proof that we see each other’s humanity, especially when policy fails to.
Matt Sandoval, LMSW, M.Ed.
CEO of Free Arts
