Food Stamps

As a high schooler, if someone had told me that my first year out of college I'd be sitting in line for food stamps, I would have laughed in his face. Not me, never. But this week, that's exactly what happened.

It was hard. So much harder than I'd imagined. I'm doing a year of service, so it's not like I'm actually poor, right? Right? As I stood in that line downtown, I wanted to yell "I don't belong here!" or explain to any onlookers that "I'm not one of them!" I wanted to explain. I wanted to disappear.

I can't help but think that everyone else in the line that day had experienced those emotions at some point. Many of them looked like they had gotten used to the system. They hung their heads and quietly walked through the motions that had become so familiar. Some seemed just as new as me.

I was ashamed to be there. And I was ashamed of my shame. But I am grateful to have experienced that shame in my journey toward better understanding the American poor. In fact, despite the fact that I still feel very privileged, I find that I have become one of "them."

I don't know if I'll even end up using those food stamps. For now, I'm going to try to live without them. Over and over again, in my orientation, I heard the phrase, "we're all just one paycheck away from poverty." I'm beginning to understand that like never before.



P.S. - Because my posts are so introspective, I fear they may convey a very dismal picture of my new life here in Indy. I am not desperate. I am not wanting for anything. I am simply learning. Thanks for letting me share my thoughts with you.