The Impact of SNAP & How it Keeps Our Community Fed

The other night at the community cupboard, I watched a mom scan the shelves like she was doing mental math faster than any calculator ever could. She had two kids with her, one tugging at her sleeve, the other pointing excitedly at a jar of peanut butter. She smiled at them, but I could tell she was counting. Trying to figure out how far her benefits would stretch this month.

People talk about SNAP like it’s an abstract acronym, something far away in government buildings. But when you see it up close, it’s not abstract at all. It’s a lifeline. It’s dinner on the table. It’s the difference between “we’ll figure something out” and “we’ll eat tonight.”

Here’s the thing most people don’t realize: SNAP isn’t meant to cover everything. It fills the gap between what families make and what groceries cost. And lately, that gap has been getting wider. Inflation, rising food prices, higher housing costs, it all lands on families who are already stretching every dollar like it’s elastic.

But SNAP also does something beautiful that doesn’t always get talked about: It preserves dignity. People get to choose their groceries. Their meals. Their ingredients. It gives families the freedom to cook the food that feels like home.And home looks different for everyone.

I’ve met families buying ingredients for soups from the country they came from. I’ve seen shoppers picking out fresh produce with their kids, teaching them how to choose ripe fruit. I’ve watched older adults budget carefully but still grab something small that makes them happy, like the man who buys tea every week because it reminds him of mornings with his parents. SNAP makes those moments possible.

As someone who works in food justice, I can tell you that our community fridges, cupboards, and gardens are important, but they’re not meant to replace programs like SNAP. They work with SNAP. They support the places where SNAP falls short. Food justice isn’t one solution; it’s a network, with each part strengthening the others.

When the community cupboard runs out of fresh produce, SNAP fills in.When SNAP winds down at the end of the month, the cupboard keeps families going.When both meet in the middle, people eat. Families breathe easier. Kids show up to school fed and ready.

If someone hasn’t experienced food insecurity, it’s easy to talk about these programs like numbers on a spreadsheet. But in the cupboard, it’s faces. It’s recipes passed down generations. It’s kids tugging at sleeves asking if they can get applesauce. It’s the quiet relief on someone’s face when they realize they can get everything on their list.

SNAP is community. SNAP is stability. SNAP is dignity.

And the more we talk about it, without shame, without judgment, the more we make space for a world where feeding your family isn’t something you have to calculate every single day.