The year was 1997.  I was twenty-four years old, and I had just broken up with my boyfriend of five years.  At the time, our daughter was 20 months old.   I was terrified of becoming a single mom, because I knew it was going to be hard.    I moved out of the house we had purchased together the year before and rented an apartment.  I was working full-time, paying for daycare, and still managing to pay my bills.   To this day, I still am in awe as to how I made it through those years.

During the first couple months of living on my own, my parents convinced me to look into government assistance.  While I was making a decent living, there was a possibility that I would qualify for some sort of help based on the fact that I had a dependent.   I completed the necessary paperwork and found out that in fact, I did qualify for WIC — a food program for women, infants, and children.   It helped me out a TON with my groceries, but I felt like I was undeserving of the help.  The assistance came in the form of checks every month, and they had to be picked up in person from the downtown Des Moines office– which was a royal pain in the ass.   As I said, I was working full-time and had my daughter in full-time daycare, and the WIC office was only open certain hours of the day, so I would have to spend my lunch hour navigating my way over there, waiting in line for these checks, and then rushing back to work.  It was a hassle, but hey– free food, right?

The checks were basically broken down into weekly groups, and could be used all at once or weekly, at my discretion.   They were good for foods such as peanut butter, milk, eggs, cereal, 100% juice, fruits & vegetables, and cheeses.    It was wonderful, and I was lucky to qualify.   I think I just fell under the income limits by about $500 annually.   Another raise from my employer and I would be off the program.  I didn’t qualify for welfare or food stamps because I made too much money.  Oh, the irony.  

I lasted about 4 months on the WIC program, and stopped picking up my checks.  I felt guilty because I didn’t feel like I was poor and I felt like I was taking advantage of the system when there had to be people more worthy of this program than me.   Not only that, but I hated having to separate my groceries out, having the people behind me in line giving a knowing glare– knowing that my purchases would not only take longer, but that I was now being deemed a “poor person” as I was seen pulling those WIC checks out of my purse.    I resented that stigma being cast upon me, and I swore I would NEVER rely on the government for assistance again.  I would take care of myself, and I refused to become a statistic.

I wasn’t a single mother for long, as it was only two years later when I met my husband.   But those two years of single parenting were hard, and it taught me something about myself.  It taught me I can do anything.  It taught I can take care of myself, it taught me I am strong, and it taught me that I matter.

Why do I tell this story?

Because those looks that I got from those people in the grocery store? Yesterday, I became one of those people that I used to despise.

I was in the grocery store yesterday afternoon picking up something to make for dinner.  I got in line behind a very dirty-looking lady, with four very small children, all dirty.  None of them were wearing coats, even though the temperature was in the low 40s..  They didn’t have socks on.  Two of them had bath slippers on, and other two had very worn tennis shoes on– one without laces.   Their clothes were dirty, their hair was messed up, and they all looked in dire need of a bath.    The mother smelled of cigarettes and body odor. I actually pulled my cart back a few steps because the smell made me catch my breath.    She was taking FOREVER in line, and it was starting to get very frustrating because her kids were running all over the place, grabbing Easter candy off the shelves and plopping it down on the counter.  The youngest one kept rolling these plastic Easter candy eggs under my cart and then picking them up and putting them in her mouth (Ewwwww!)

 I couldn’t see everything they were purchasing at that moment, but I could tell even the cashier was getting frustrated as the line was growing longer in this small town grocery store.

That was when I noticed it.

In her hand, was an Iowa Food Stamp card.   Instead of paper checks, Iowa now uses a debit card that gets loaded with funds each month.  I had seen these before, and I recognized it right away.  It was at that moment that I looked down to see what she was purchasing, and when I saw her “loot” it made me very angry.  On the counter was five bottles of pop, piles of Easter candy the kids had thrown up there, several individual bags of chips, candy bars, Beef Jerky… it was all JUNK.   She was using her Food Stamp money to buy junk.

And I immediately passed judgment on her.   She must be a bad parent. 

I looked to her cart to see if maybe I had missed something– ANYTHING– that could be considered healthy.  Something worthy of MY TAX DOLLARS being used.  But there was nothing. 

I was so disappointed.      I know the disappointment showed on my face as the cashier put the bags in her cart and the lady swiped that food stamp card through the reader to pay for her purchases loaded with calories, fat, and preservatives.

I hurried and paid for my groceries and walked to my truck.   I got in and sat there for a minute thinking about what I just witnessed.   Was she just buying them a one time treat?  Maybe.  But if so, why spend over $40 on that much junk?  (Yes, I heard the total… it was a LOT of junk food.)   I know how much regular groceries that could have bought for her family, and it made me sick.  It also made me very ANGRY.  Angry that there are flaws in our system, and angry that people abuse the system like this.   

Mostly because people like her that have abused the system for YEARS are the reason that I got those dirty looks in the grocery store all those years ago.