This week was an eye-opener. The Food Stamp Challenge (FSC) helped
shape a communal conversation that is extremely important. What follows are
some reflections on the challenge.
Sympathy Is NOT
Political
I was surprised that so many people assumed that the food
stamp challenge was an exercise intended to initiate
liberal advocacy. It was not. It was intended to create an opportunity for us
to gain a new perspective on food insecurity. In our contemporary political
climate we have a hard time being open to narratives other than our own. We
project our experience onto everyone and thus leave little room for realities
that are dissimilar to our own. Can one appropriately advocate for a political
position without having an idea, not even a small taste, of what the issue is
like for the people at the center of the conversation?
I believe that a person can do the FSC and reach different
political conclusions about the federal food stamp program. I don’t see a
contradiction here. One must do his or her own research into the program to
make these policy decisions, but we should all work to cultivate a sense of empathy/sympathy
for the people being impacted by the program itself. The more sensitive we are
to the experience of food insecurity, the less patronizing we will be in our
advocacy work, whichever way we take it.
Internal Differences
One of the most important outcomes of the FSC was the
exposure of the internal fault lines created by the financial divide within our
synagogue. We are an economically diverse community, which is both easily forgotten
and quickly suppressed in our public conversations. This project brought many
of these issues into focus. People under tremendous financial stress come to
the PJC, which of course, textures their experience in the community. What is
like for a family struggling to pay the bills to build a sacred community with
families who are much more affluent? When a person struggles to put
food on his/her table and then attends a Kiddush that is weekly feast of abundance, it can create a disconnect.
I am not saying that we should not have a Kiddush full of culinary treats. But
I am suggesting that we should be aware that for some people in the room, the Kiddush
reinforces their own struggle with scarcity. This can feel very lonely and
isolating. The ethos of a synagogue should be egalitarian. It must stress
equality over social hierarchy. We work hard to perpetuate this ethos, but even
so, the FSC reinforced some the economic differences that exist within the PJC
and it should motivate us to be sensitive to them.
Class is an Emotionally
Charged Topic
It was apparent after the first day of the challenge that class,
food insecurity, and poverty are not abstract questions. These concerns are
deeply embedded in our perceptions of ourselves, and opening the conversation
exposed a lot of raw emotion.
When the food stamp challenge came up in conversation many
people were hostile about the project which caught me a bit off guard. But money is a
loaded subject. Our discussions about class are peppered with complex emotions,
and I often found that my conversations about the FSC were really an arena in
which these feelings were being expressed.
For example, many folks said that they were frustrated that so many people “game the
system” and remain on food stamps as a source of income as opposed to a temporary
support. I would respond by saying that the average amount of time a person is
on food stamps is nine months. I expected people to react by considering this
new information and applying it to their perception of the program. What
happened more often than not was that this statistic (fact?) had no apparent influence
on the person. S/he would continue talking about how the system does not
support people through a temporary crisis but rather, creates and perpetuates
dependency. Our feelings can be so overpowering that they preclude us from
considering new narratives supported by data. Yes, data can be manipulated, but very rarely did someone step back in our
conversations and say something like, “Oh, I never considered that perspective
before. I have to think about it.”
My Own Insensitivity
Exposed
I had one of these moments. I was very careful to be as
sensitive as possible when talking and writing about the FSC. However, in one
conversation, someone argued that the FSC was not a good use of our energy and
not a very effective tool. After some back and forth, I suggested that she try it
for herself before she judge it as a waste of time. She pointed out how
condescending I was to suggest this. “Don’t you tell me to try the food stamp challenge for a week so I can see how
difficult it is to live on a limited food budget. I have to do this every day.
My family and I struggle on a daily basis to pay our bills and put food on our
table.”
She was right, and I felt rotten for being so hurtful. I was
so appreciative that she helped me see my own blind spot. Even though I am
intimately connected to the financial struggles of many of our families, I
distanced our community from the issues we were exploring through the FSC. Had
I brought a deeper awareness to the fact that this experience was something with
which people in our synagogue struggle, I would not have suggested that anyone “try”
this project if they had not signed up for it. I am grateful that she shared her anger with me and I have
learned from this mistake. Even though I know that these issues hit close to
home for many people in our community, I clearly needed to be reminded of this.
The Food Stamp
Challenge Mirage
The danger of the FSC is the notion that some people may conclude that living on such a limited budget is easy because they were
able to do it for a week. But what would happen by week three or four? How about during month six
or twelve? Now what if we add working very long hours for very little pay on
top of this? And then let’s add
unforeseen car expenses that preclude driving. And then throw a serious medical
problem that requires attention (more time and money that one doesn’t have)
into the mix. And then on top of this, add a child who is unsupported in an emerging
learning disability and begins to behave inappropriately in school. And so on.
Any one of these circumstances can make food insecurity far more excruciating.
Perhaps we were able to throw these meals together quite effectively by the end
of the week, maybe even produce gourmet meals, but it is important to acknowledge
that this experience is made possible by our privilege.
How We Spend/ Talk
About/ Think About Our Synagogue’s Money
Money is always a difficult conversation, and the FSC raised
many issues that we should be thinking about as a community. For example, our
Shabbat dinners are too expensive for some people to attend, and the
ramifications of this are significant. What does it mean to say that we have a
monthly Shabbat dinner that not everyone can afford to attend with his or her
family? Many families will not ask for help from the discretionary fund -even
though it is set up for this purpose- so they will choose not to attend the
dinner (or program, or trip to Israel, etc.) rather than ask for help. This is
just one example.
Some of the issues that are related but about which I will not
write in detail here are: the importance of publicly recognizing and
celebrating donors for their generosity while maintaining our egalitarian
ethos; the inequitable membership structure of most
synagogues (families with assets in the millions pay the same membership fee as
a family struggling to get by on $80,000 a year); the high cost of Jewish life;
how much food we actually waste in our synagogue. All of these issues were
touched on in some way by engaging in the Food Stamp Challenge. I am eager to
pursue these conversations as we move forward.
Sympathy Alone Does
not Change Lives
Immediately after the FSC ended, I attended the American Jewish World Service Alumni Institute. During one of the sessions, AJWS
President Ruth Messinger spoke about the limits of sympathy and its unintended consequences. She referenced
Susan Sontag who wrote, “So far as we feel sympathy, we feel we are not
accomplices to what caused the suffering. Our sympathy proclaims our innocence
as well as our impotence. To that extent, it can be (for all our good
intentions) an impertinent- if not inappropriate- response” (from Regarding the Pain of Others). In other
words, when we engage in questions of justice, sympathy is insufficient as an
end goal. At times, sympathy can even lead to inaction because we
see ourselves as connected to the sufferers as opposed to people who may
benefit from the very system that creates or perpetuates the suffering.
For this reason, it is my hope that the Food Stamp Challenge
leads to action for those of us who did it, and for those who followed and
contributed to the conversation around it. For some people, this action may be political
advocacy. Others may reassess their own family's practices around food. And yet others may focus on doing an ethical assessment of the way our own synagogue community
shares, purchases, and wastes our own food. I am
very excited that people are already strategizing about ways to make our Shabbat dinners more financially
equitable as well as thinking about how
we may directly support people struggling with poverty.
I am so proud to be a part of this community. There are
people at the PJC who push themselves to grow even when it is uncomfortable,
people who are willing to have difficult conversations. I will conclude with
the words of Lillah Watson, an Australian artist, intellectual, and activist:
“If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have
come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”
Food insecurity is a problem for all of us. Our ability to reach the great
spiritual and moral heights of our humanity is intimately bound up with the
injustice suffered by hungry people. Let us determine to take this seriously,
and see ourselves as powerful agents of change and redemption.
Posts
