On November and Hunger

 

    November is my favorite month of the year and Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Ever since I was little, sights, sounds and smells of this day live in my memory books. Mom’s cooking and having to wait hours to eat the big feast. We would also watch the Macy’s parade and then the CBS Thanksgiving Day parade, which would take place across all time zones, including in Hawaii. As an adult, the National Dog Show became a tradition, and in general some of my best moments have been of being with people I love, and Thanksgiving has turned into Friendsgiving for many chosen family communities. It is a day when nobody should be alone unless they want to. It’s also a day when some choose to work, because double overtime in a hospital can mean a very nice check.

    When my family moved out to California from Michigan in late 1981, we had no idea of the great things that were waiting for us, or the hardships we would face. I have often said that I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if I had come out of the closet while I was living there. My father came out a few weeks ahead of us, as Mom settled things up in Warren (which meant leaving the house with all our possessions behind) and she took me and my sister on a 3-day trip across the country to sunny San Diego. That first year was tough because my father was a heavy alcoholic for most of his life and couldn’t keep a job for most of the second half of his life. We had a place on Voltaire St. in Pt. Loma for about six months, but then money stopped coming in because of Dad’s drinking, so we had to move out. We moved in with family as we did when we first moved in, but family was out of patience with Dad, so it was pretty sketchy for a couple months. I remember my mother sitting in a park with us in El Cajon, crying and frantic because we had no food and no money and nowhere to go. We did eventually get help from the family again and got ourselves into a shelter, and we found a two-bedroom place in City Heights on Central Ave., which had been converted from a garage (which was torn down as part of the gentrification of the area, with all the parks and newly built freeway offramps.

    Mom and Dad were both working at a market research company, doing phone surveys for various things, but that ended when the company wasn’t making enough to keep them both on. I remember Mom taking a couple rolls of toilet paper from the company while she was working there. I remember Mom and Dad going hungry so that my sister and I could eat. I remember Mom having to turn me down for a second piece of bread because we had to make things stretch. I remember us starting to talk about moving back to Michigan because it wasn’t working out here.

    Then around the second half of November, we finally got approved for AFDC (TANF now), and our first check was retroactive from the application date of August, which was basically four months in one, counting November. Mom and Dad were both relieved and rejoicing. I was still too young, even at 13, to understand fully what was going on, but I was happy that Mom and Dad didn’t have to worry so much. That Christmas was a banner year in the house, and I think I got more presents than I ever did before. To my absolute shock, Mom handed me an envelope with $32 in it—the most money I’d ever had in my life at that point (I didn’t get an allowance), and I was told I could spend it any way I want. “Even on video games?” I asked, excited. Mom replied back, “Even video games.” I’d gotten into big trouble on the day of my 13th birthday, both for going to the video arcade a block away from our apt. on Voltaire, but also because I lied so badly about it, I was grounded for two months. I remember getting my cousin Jessie (my first female crush) two 45s—Gloria and Mickey).

    But above all that, the memory I cherish most was of us going to the Lucky supermarket on 43rd, and my mother said, “There’s no limit, get whatever you want.” The rest of the trip was a blur, but I remember putting all kinds of things in the cart, and she never said no. I was in disbelief when we pulled up to the register with about $200 in it (about $675 in 2025 dollars), and left with about 25 bags of groceries. We called a cab home (my first time ever riding in one), and that Thanksgiving (our first since we moved here) and Christmas were filled with all the holiday goodness that you come to expect over the years. I remember us having a full-sized Christmas tree like back in Michigan and I sat by it in our very small living room and gazed quietly at the lights, as Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day.

    This was my first Thanksgiving in California. I think you know where I’m going with this.

    I have felt a lot of emotions in the past couple weeks, with all that has come with the government shutdown. Like all of you, I watched the government shut down and the House of Representatives all sent home to do “field work.” I waited and hoped for some sign that the unthinkable wouldn’t happen, and that 42 million people wouldn’t have to suddenly worry about where their next meal came from. I wrote a poem about it, comparing the coming of November 1st to an approaching and then crashing tsunami. I kept thinking to myself, “They’re not really gonna go there, are they? No really, they’re not gonna go there, right? Please tell me they’re not gonna go there!”

    They went there.

    They gloated about it, they played the blame game and gave people the choice of going hungry or going without health insurance. Think about that—they leveraged SIXTEEN MILLION CHILDREN for political gain and mean girl points. Elected officials at the state and city level had to scramble to put things in place to feed people. I saw people preparing to give trick-or-treaters candy and food items. I saw chosen family have to go to the food bank instead of being able to buy what they needed with their EBT card. I bristled at diabetics having to realize that the food they need to not die from insulin shock or hyperglycemia would stop being there for them. Judges told the administration to disperse benefits from the contingency fund to give partial benefits. I watched the admin play games and basically say “make me.” I watch the Speaker of the House goad and cajole and divert attention away form the job that he was not doing all the while. I watched Marjorie Taylor Greene be on the right side of history and tell then men in her party to cut it out. I saw food pantry lines stretch so far back you can’t see the end of the line. I saw sit down restaurants, fast food chains, supermarkets and dollar stores all offer shutdown meals.

    All this to protect monsters from facing the consequences of the horrors they have caused to so many women and girls.

    And then last night, I learned that the judge had demanded full SNAP funds be dispersed by Friday, and I saw that some people had already seen a balance on their EBT card. It took me out for a moment. I have felt intense anger, sadness, bewilderment, heartbreak and bone-deep concern for what people would do if the unthinkable were to ever happen. I know what food insecurity and hunger is because I had to live with it well into adulthood. I have also seen kindness, compassion, decency, caring and a glimmer of hope in people who realized that people care. Lots and lots of people.

    This is who we are. 

     They will always be who they are, but so will we. Because either you are for keeping children from going hungry for Thanksgiving or you aren’t. We’re not out of this by a long shot, but we’ll get through it together, because when the going gets tough, WE GET GOING. I am so very sorry for all you have been put through. I see you. And after you have gone shopping and have everything you need for the month, please take a moment to breathe and find things to laugh about and love. Trust me, it will help you heal.