The Dreamer's Pen

So many people are losing their food benefits starting November 1, and I can’t sit by and watch that happen.

I know what it’s like to be food insecure. I remember my mom taking food that would’ve been thrown away from her work, hiding it in her purse or her coat just to bring it home for us to eat. I remember going to the food banks myself, standing in line, hoping there would be enough food. Those memories never leave you. The worry, the uncertainty, and the quiet shame of not knowing where your next meal is coming from.

Now, in my work, I see it all over again. Many of the students I serve are food insecure too. Thankfully one of the food banks has a mobile truck that comes to my campus, but even so, the line keeps getting longer every month. It breaks my heart to see it. And I can’t just watch anymore.

So starting November 1, I’m doing something about it. I’m volunteering my time at local food banks and the homeless shelter. My first shift is this Saturday at one of the food banks. I’m nervous and a little excited, but mostly just… ready. I know I can’t fix the system, I can’t make all the hunger go away. But I can show up. I can hand out meals. I can smile, talk, and remind someone that they matter.

It’s not about grand gestures or politics. It’s about being human. About compassion in action. About refusing to let the world numb you to suffering. I don’t want to grow numb. I don’t want to scroll past pain and tell myself someone else will handle it. I want to feel it even when it hurts and turn that into something good. Because if the government won’t take care of its people, then we have to. That’s what community really means.

This Saturday, I’ll be at the food bank, doing what I can. Handing out food. Listening. Smiling.