I remember the sound of the clock ticking in the principal’s office. The smell of floor wax and pencil shavings. And that small table—just big enough for two embarrassed children trying not to exist.
Before free and reduced lunches were available, my brother and I were asked to sit there every day, just outside the principal’s office, because we didn’t have a sack lunch or order the school lunch. We were sent to the office because we didn’t have food.
“It isn’t polite to watch others eat,” the secretary whispered the first time she ushered us to the small corner table wedged between an army green filing cabinet and a wall so grimy I couldn’t bear to touch it. This was the same table where children sat who were sent to the office for misbehaving.
The sight of two hungry children sitting alone while everyone else ate became part of the school’s daily rhythm—an unspoken lesson about who had and who didn’t. When staff and teachers passed us, some looked at us with pity, others with quiet disgust. No one said much. They didn’t have to. We felt every glance. We learned to put our heads down, to pretend we didn’t notice, to make ourselves smaller.
We were too young to name humiliation, but we felt it. Too young to protest, but we knew we were being punished. We were hungry children, treated as if our lack was our fault.
Years later, when I became a teacher, I kept a drawer full of “emergency” food—granola bars, fruit cups, and small cups of microwaveable mac and cheese—because not a single adult ever offered us so much as a cracker. I remembered the silence, the stares, and the shame… and I decided that no child in my care would ever know that feeling.
The audacity to come to school not having eaten breakfast or without lunch would not, in my classroom, be punished—it would be met with compassion.
Hunger Leaves a Mark
Years later I would learn what researchers now confirm: what we eat—or don’t eat—matters profoundly, especially for growing brains and bodies. Children who go to school without food don’t just miss a meal—they lose focus, confidence, and connection. Chronic hunger literally rewires the developing brain, leading to long-term challenges in learning and health.
That’s why, in 1966, the federal government created the School Breakfast Program, recognizing that no child can learn on an empty stomach. Studies show that ensuring children arrive at school fed improves attendance, test scores, and behavior.
Similarly, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP)—once known as food stamps—has been shown to reduce food insecurity by about 30 percent nationwide (Center on Budget and Policy Priorities). In Indiana, over 70 percent of eligible individuals participated in SNAP before the pandemic (CBPP Indiana Factsheet).
Food security is not merely about fullness. It is a foundation for learning, stability, and lifelong well-being.
The Stakes in Indiana
This is not an abstract policy issue. This is a human one.
When SNAP ends, over 610,000 Hoosiers will be at risk. That’s nearly one in ten people in our state. (USAFacts.org)
In fiscal year 2022, Indiana data show 596,848 individuals in 285,276 households received SNAP benefits, with an average monthly benefit of $162 per person (USDA Food and Nutrition Service).
Nearly four in ten SNAP households include someone who is older or living with a disability. Nationwide, about 10 percent of participants are non-elderly individuals with disabilities (USDA 2023 Report). In Indiana, that translates to tens of thousands of Hoosiers in the disability community—people already navigating fragile healthcare, fixed incomes, and special diets—now facing yet another barrier: hunger.
What happens when SNAP vanishes overnight for these families?
- Parents skip meals so their children can eat.
- Children arrive at school hungry, unable to focus or learn.
- People with disabilities must take medication on empty stomachs.
- Local food pantries, already stretched, will be overwhelmed.
This is not just policy. This is dignity.
The Long Shadow of Hunger
I still remember the day my brother and I promised that when we grew up, we’d always have enough food. But scarcity does something to you. Even when food is plentiful, the fear of “not enough” lingers. You learn to eat fast, to eat it all, to never trust that tomorrow will provide.
That’s the quiet inheritance of food insecurity—it doesn’t end when the pantry fills. It lives in your body, your habits, your shame. When I consider that families in Indiana may soon face empty cupboards because of funding lapses, I don’t just feel anger—I feel memory. I feel that little girl in the office, watching other children eat.
We Can Choose Something Different
We can’t keep telling people that poverty is a moral failure, or that hunger is just a temporary inconvenience. But hunger… hunger is violence in slow motion. It steals children’s focus, weakens immune systems, and teaches families to fear the very thing that’s supposed to sustain them.
SNAP isn’t charity. It’s a promise that no child should ever have to sit alone because they are hungry. The time to act is now.
We can do better.
We must do better.
What You Can Do Now:
- DO NOT Suffer in silence. Talk about it. Silence protects systems, not people. Use your voice in your schools, churches, and neighborhoods.
- Check in on your circle and community. Find out who may need support.
- Call your state legislators. Urge them to protect SNAP funding immediately—not next week, not next session. Hunger won’t wait.
- Support local food banks and pantries. They will be the first to absorb the blow. Volunteer, donate, share.
- Stand with disability advocates. For families who rely on both SNAP and Medicaid, this is a double crisis. Their survival depends on coordinated care and access to nutrition.
- Model empathy. When we talk about hunger, let’s talk about humans—not just numbers.
Resources: Where Hoosiers Can Turn
- Gleaners Food Bank of Indiana – Immediate food assistance and pantry locator across Central Indiana.
- Feeding Indiana’s Hungry – Statewide food bank network coordinating emergency response.
- Indiana 2-1-1 – Statewide helpline connecting families to SNAP help, food pantries, and meal sites.
- The Arc of Indiana – Advocacy and resources for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
- Food Assistance Resources compiled by The Arc of Indiana.
- Indiana Disability Rights – Legal and systems advocacy for Hoosiers with disabilities experiencing food insecurity.
Marya Patrice Sherron is a dedicated advocate, a proud mother of two incredible children with disabilities, and a valued member of The Arc of Indiana’s Board of Directors.
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Visit Marya’s Website: Time to Dance