At 3 AM the other night, I was restless but strangely motivated. I hopped out of bed, ready to apply for new jobs, read the news and write new posts for my blog. My unexpected insomnia left me with extra time, no distractions and plenty of jittery energy. Unfortunately, once I settled myself at my desk, I hit a major roadblock.
I couldn’t get an Internet connection. Without idealist.org and online Senate job listings, I would have to wait until the workweek to start career searching. I could re-read yesterday’s paper, still lying on our kitchen table, but I couldn’t search for multiple articles on immigration reform. I could write something on my own computer, or even - gasp – by hand, but somehow that didn’t feel as worthwhile as posting it on my blog for general consumption.
Within a decade, my computer and its Internet access have become the cornerstones to most things I consider “productive.” When I was in school, I typed most of my notes, researched primarily through LexisNexus and wrote and saved all of my papers on the computer. At work, I communicate primarily through email, read online articles to stay up-to-date on Farm Bill progress, and save all of my sample presentations and workshop outlines in an Outlook folder. Recently, one of our field staff visited our office and asked to use my computer for a half hour to check email. I said sure, but then found myself completely paralyzed. What could I possibly do during those 30 minutes? I ended up wandering over to my friends’ cubicles to chat, for lack of any more constructive ideas.
People have decried the technical divide in our society for nearly as long as the Internet has been a major component of our lives. What I mostly hear, though, is a debate on computer literacy. I’ve been thinking more about the difference and convenience that home and work Internet access provides. The day after my insomnia attack, for example, I was on vacation but needed to email a people from work. I had to walk over to the library, wait in line for what seemed like ages, only to be limited to 30 minutes on the computer. It took longer than usual to connect and load the pages I needed, so I was down to just over 20 by the time I got started. Another 10 minutes passed as I sent out my notes, leaving me precious few minutes for personal use. I wanted to read my new personal email and write to my grandmother, skim BBC headlines, and, most importantly, search idealist.org for job openings. As you might guess, I only got through the first two of these tasks before my connection automatically shut down. I was on the way home from the library before I remembered the most essential site I should have checked before starting my vacation day – weather.com.
Three years ago, I volunteered at the Women’s Law Project as a telephone counselor. Low-income women in Philadelphia would call in with legal questions, and I would answer as best I could and direct the callers to appropriate social service agencies in the city. Of course, volunteers like me were provided with a big binder about family law and brochures that covered frequently asked questions. All of these answers, though, were available on the Internet. Often, I could not find the brochures or page in my binder fast enough while the caller was on the phone, and I would simply search the family court website or Google a specific question. Many women explained to me that they had tried to find this information themselves, but did not have enough time at the library to find everything they needed.
Searching the Internet takes time. When you have less background knowledge in a particular subject, such as Philadelphia's family court procedures, searching for that information takes even more time. Our callers were mostly single mothers working long hours, who had very little time to search online for legal information. It seemed ironic that I, with no children to support and no abusive relationships, could easily learn about the basic procedures to file for custody, child support, or restraining orders. The women who most needed this information the most had a harder time accessing these answers.
According to Pew’s 2007 survey on American Internet use, only 55% of people with less than a high school education use the Internet. Sixty-one percent of Americans with only a high school diploma use the Internet, compared with 81% of college graduates. Since education is correlated with income, it is difficult to separate the cause and the effect of this separation. For instance, jobs that require higher education more typically involve working at a computer and using the Internet. Such jobs also pay more, so those families are more likely to have a computer at home.
Along those lines, poverty rates are highest in rural communities. People in those areas are also less likely to have Internet access, and even less likely to have broadband (high-speed) Internet access. That same Pew study found that only 60% of rural citizens use the Internet. This is partially reflective of lower overall education levels in rural areas. However, I was recently on a trip in rural western Pennsylvania with a coworker, and we found ourselves deep in email withdrawal despite bringing a laptop with us. We drove for miles around Shirleysburg to find a coffee shop or hotel with free wireless access. Thirty minutes away, we camped out in the parking lot of a Days Inn to mooch from their wireless connection. This never would have happened in a city or suburban community, where every other corner has a café with wireless, and libraries are within walking distance.
It seems to me that the digital divide is magnifying disparities in our society. The Internet has so much potential to even the playing field, through online classes, job opening announcements and general access to information. Today, however, I see a society where the “haves” can conveniently find the answers they need, while those who are less privileged are, as usual, at a disadvantage.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Lost in DC
I love those observations-on-life columns. The ones in the Leisure or Style sections of newspapers, the My Voice articles in women’s magazines, the fluffier essays in Time – I love them all. I like the sarcasm, the written validation of thoughts I’ve often had but never said, and best of all, the come-full-circle ending paragraphs.
A PG version Carrie Bradshaw’s job would be perfect for me. My current hometown, DC, is every bit as lively as the Big Apple, from the ubiquitous kickball tournaments to the frequent street fairs. My friends are just as quirky than the NYC foursome, although we’re less stylish and too sleepy to be controversial when we go out for Saturday brunches. Most importantly, I avoid bad puns and have never been seen outside in a pink tutu. I’m highly qualified for this fantasy position. Lacking any lucrative (or non-lucrative) offers, however, I generously offer up to the blogosphere my very first and complimentary column of the new series, “Lost in DC.”
Getting lost in DC is easy. First, there’s the obvious. We have four quadrants, meaning that when you tell someone you’re at 17th and K, you could (well, maybe you couldn’t, but I most certainly could) be at any one of four 17th and K locations. Second, we like to re-use numbers for our highways. The major roads to get around here are 95, 295, 395, and 495. Even if you have perfect vision and can see the first digit in these signs a mile away, we’re constantly rebuilding and reconfiguring entrances and exits and blocking off road sections on whims. Keeps life exciting.
Finally, no one really knows the city layout. People say, “Oh yes, once you realize there are four sections, you’re all set.” Well, I know full well that my city is quartered, and I still don’t always end up where I intended. Call those same people when you are confused, and ask them exactly you get from point A to point B. Invariably, they will sheepishly admit that they don’t often go into that neighborhood, and can’t help you there.
In general, I’m a master at picking out the people walking by who know where they’re going and will give me good directions. In New York, Philadelphia, and Providence, I’ve never gotten incorrect directions. In DC, my success rate is hovering at about 10%. Everyone’s confused here; the only variance is in how much we’ll admit to it.
It’s also easy to get lost in DC on a deeper level. No, I don’t mean the metro – that’s the only transportation that I manage to successfully navigate on a regular basis. I mean that this is a transient city. You meet few people here who were born and raised in this city and intend to stay. Instead, young people come after college, try out a few careers and a few living areas, and move on to grad school or new cities. It’s unusual to stay in a job for more than a year or two. In small talk here, the first question is “What do you do?”, the second is “Do you like it?”, and the third is, “Are you looking for other jobs?” or “Would you like to talk to my friend, so-and-so, who might have some good connections for you?”
If sticking with one position for more than two birthdays raises eyebrows, renewing a lease is even more unusual. In the eight months I’ve lived in my 9-apartment complex on Capital Hill, I’ve seen four moves, not including mine. Is it any surprise I only know one neighbor by name?
I feel like I’m floating here. After four years of college, aiming for good grades and a job after graduation, I’m suddenly without a grand plan for life or even a certainty of my return address a year from now. Most of my friends plan to head out of this city within the next year or two, and I don’t think I have the patience to last another six months in my current job.
Sometimes I feel lost, and sometimes I just feel free. Fine, I’m nearly always lost. Everyone knows the scenic route is more fun, though. What would Sex and the City have been if Carrie had married Mr. Big in the first season? Since I have a knack for taking the more circuitous paths for all of my goals, you can be sure that “Lost in DC” will continue.
(Camera shot of me typing at our kitchen table, pausing momentarily to stare thoughtfully through the window at the city lights below, and then a close-up of the computer screen with the new blog entry.)
A PG version Carrie Bradshaw’s job would be perfect for me. My current hometown, DC, is every bit as lively as the Big Apple, from the ubiquitous kickball tournaments to the frequent street fairs. My friends are just as quirky than the NYC foursome, although we’re less stylish and too sleepy to be controversial when we go out for Saturday brunches. Most importantly, I avoid bad puns and have never been seen outside in a pink tutu. I’m highly qualified for this fantasy position. Lacking any lucrative (or non-lucrative) offers, however, I generously offer up to the blogosphere my very first and complimentary column of the new series, “Lost in DC.”
Getting lost in DC is easy. First, there’s the obvious. We have four quadrants, meaning that when you tell someone you’re at 17th and K, you could (well, maybe you couldn’t, but I most certainly could) be at any one of four 17th and K locations. Second, we like to re-use numbers for our highways. The major roads to get around here are 95, 295, 395, and 495. Even if you have perfect vision and can see the first digit in these signs a mile away, we’re constantly rebuilding and reconfiguring entrances and exits and blocking off road sections on whims. Keeps life exciting.
Finally, no one really knows the city layout. People say, “Oh yes, once you realize there are four sections, you’re all set.” Well, I know full well that my city is quartered, and I still don’t always end up where I intended. Call those same people when you are confused, and ask them exactly you get from point A to point B. Invariably, they will sheepishly admit that they don’t often go into that neighborhood, and can’t help you there.
In general, I’m a master at picking out the people walking by who know where they’re going and will give me good directions. In New York, Philadelphia, and Providence, I’ve never gotten incorrect directions. In DC, my success rate is hovering at about 10%. Everyone’s confused here; the only variance is in how much we’ll admit to it.
It’s also easy to get lost in DC on a deeper level. No, I don’t mean the metro – that’s the only transportation that I manage to successfully navigate on a regular basis. I mean that this is a transient city. You meet few people here who were born and raised in this city and intend to stay. Instead, young people come after college, try out a few careers and a few living areas, and move on to grad school or new cities. It’s unusual to stay in a job for more than a year or two. In small talk here, the first question is “What do you do?”, the second is “Do you like it?”, and the third is, “Are you looking for other jobs?” or “Would you like to talk to my friend, so-and-so, who might have some good connections for you?”
If sticking with one position for more than two birthdays raises eyebrows, renewing a lease is even more unusual. In the eight months I’ve lived in my 9-apartment complex on Capital Hill, I’ve seen four moves, not including mine. Is it any surprise I only know one neighbor by name?
I feel like I’m floating here. After four years of college, aiming for good grades and a job after graduation, I’m suddenly without a grand plan for life or even a certainty of my return address a year from now. Most of my friends plan to head out of this city within the next year or two, and I don’t think I have the patience to last another six months in my current job.
Sometimes I feel lost, and sometimes I just feel free. Fine, I’m nearly always lost. Everyone knows the scenic route is more fun, though. What would Sex and the City have been if Carrie had married Mr. Big in the first season? Since I have a knack for taking the more circuitous paths for all of my goals, you can be sure that “Lost in DC” will continue.
(Camera shot of me typing at our kitchen table, pausing momentarily to stare thoughtfully through the window at the city lights below, and then a close-up of the computer screen with the new blog entry.)
Sunday, April 1, 2007
First Job 101
Your first job is a learning experience, everyone says. You learn practical skills, mature a bit, and, in the meantime, become an expert in filing, faxing and ordering food for lunch meetings. They weren’t kidding about that last part. I also know all the caterers in the city, including who makes you hold ten minutes before you can place your order (Corner Bakery) and who consistently delivers ten minutes early (Armand’s Pizza). Good thing I studied so hard in college.
Since no one has yet figured out how to skip straight to the second job, I’ll add my own two cents to the first-job advice clichés. For all you overachievers out there, here’s how to survive that entry-level position.
Eat often. Every time you pass through the kitchen, you can meet someone new. Lunch is the easiest time to talk to your senior coworkers. “What did you bring today? Did you cook it?” Everyone loves to share recipes. The more I assure them I don’t cook, the more eager they are to explain how easy this chicken was to prepare. The more Girl Scout cookies there are on the table, the more people love to discuss their new diet goals and workout plans as take “just a few” Thin Mints. No one said adults are logical. Just dig in.
Be quick, but not too quick. You want to seem competent, but if you get the copying and faxing done conspicuously early, you’ll just get more to do. Trust me on this one. This leads me to the next tip…
Easy on the sucking up. I finished all of my work early one day when my boss looked particularly stressed. “Can I do anything to help you?” I asked helpfully. “Sure,” she said gratefully, and handed me a stack of thirty calendars and a roll of wrapping paper. “Get these Christmas presents out to the field staff today; that would be just great.”
Find a project. Join a task force, research that question everyone’s been meaning to look into, write an update for the website. Anything that interests you, shows off your skills, and keeps you far, far away from the copy machine is fair game.
Take advice from your fellow minions. They’ll know where to find the spare brochures, how to read the boss’s mood swings, and the best time to sneak out for a phone call. Stick together; it’s a crazy cubicle world out there.
Don’t take advice columns too seriously. Especially this one. I haven’t found my dream job (or decided what that is), been promoted, or even hit the one-year mark. I just got freaked out by a “Where do you want to be in ten years?” question today, and had to rationalize that being the lowest-of-the-low is really a worthwhile endeavor. If it’s all about experience, advice won’t help much anyway.
In any case, all first jobs make for good stories. That’s what blogs are for.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Auto-biography
I'm not a car person. I can barely tell you what color cars my friends drive, let alone the brand or year. When people are picking me up from a designated corner, I try to arrive a bit late so that they can honk as I near the car, or I ostentatiously read my book so that they must yell out the window to get my attention. Otherwise I end up approaching empty parked cars or alarming people as I try to open the front door of their car as they stop for red lights. It's awkward.
On my last plane ride, one of my seatmates (the one in the aisle seat I desperately coveted) had the mini section of the newspaper containing car advertisements. There were six pages of car pictures, brief descriptions, and prices. He pulled this out as we sat on the runway, and stared at the first page for the half hour we waited until takeoff. Having just begun a new John Grisham myself, I didn't look over again until the drink cart passed us. When I reached over him to accept my water, I noticed he was somewhere in the middle of the section. And our flight attendants passed again to collect our trash, he was finishing page six, and turning back to the beginning.
Now, I understand that not everyone travels with two books plus a Time Magazine for backup, but this guy was pushing the other extreme. Those photos of the cars are took up about one square inch each on the page, which must have hindered his ability to study the details of the automobiles. And how many times can one read "Dual airbags," really?
When I was a kid, my parents owned a white Toyota station wagon. The seating was covered in red velvet material, which in turn was covered in dog hair. The back door shook a bit when we drove on the highway, but the radio worked just fine. We joked that we could post some black construction paper over the side windows, and we'd have one stylish ride to school dances: long and white, with shaded windows - our own stretch limo.
Today, I live happily with my metro card, and depend on friends with vehicles for grocery shopping assistance. I nod blankly when coworkers complain about rush hour traffic and the lack of parking near our office. Sure, the metro track work always seems to be happening when I’m already late, and I invariably make it down the escalator just as my train is leaving, but that’s life. I’ve got an impressive-looking 900-page Scottish romance for en route entertainment. Best of all, I’m secure in the knowledge that whichever kind soul is picking me up from the metro will honk as I emerge onto the street five minutes late, sparing me the embarrassment of trying to climb into some poor stranger’s front seat.
NOTE: My mother emailed this note to me today:
You just proved you really don't know about cars. Our old station wagon was a Ford Crown Victoria. Toyota doesn't make anything as huge and ridiculous as our old station wagon. Neither does Ford anymore.
On my last plane ride, one of my seatmates (the one in the aisle seat I desperately coveted) had the mini section of the newspaper containing car advertisements. There were six pages of car pictures, brief descriptions, and prices. He pulled this out as we sat on the runway, and stared at the first page for the half hour we waited until takeoff. Having just begun a new John Grisham myself, I didn't look over again until the drink cart passed us. When I reached over him to accept my water, I noticed he was somewhere in the middle of the section. And our flight attendants passed again to collect our trash, he was finishing page six, and turning back to the beginning.
Now, I understand that not everyone travels with two books plus a Time Magazine for backup, but this guy was pushing the other extreme. Those photos of the cars are took up about one square inch each on the page, which must have hindered his ability to study the details of the automobiles. And how many times can one read "Dual airbags," really?
When I was a kid, my parents owned a white Toyota station wagon. The seating was covered in red velvet material, which in turn was covered in dog hair. The back door shook a bit when we drove on the highway, but the radio worked just fine. We joked that we could post some black construction paper over the side windows, and we'd have one stylish ride to school dances: long and white, with shaded windows - our own stretch limo.
Today, I live happily with my metro card, and depend on friends with vehicles for grocery shopping assistance. I nod blankly when coworkers complain about rush hour traffic and the lack of parking near our office. Sure, the metro track work always seems to be happening when I’m already late, and I invariably make it down the escalator just as my train is leaving, but that’s life. I’ve got an impressive-looking 900-page Scottish romance for en route entertainment. Best of all, I’m secure in the knowledge that whichever kind soul is picking me up from the metro will honk as I emerge onto the street five minutes late, sparing me the embarrassment of trying to climb into some poor stranger’s front seat.
NOTE: My mother emailed this note to me today:
You just proved you really don't know about cars. Our old station wagon was a Ford Crown Victoria. Toyota doesn't make anything as huge and ridiculous as our old station wagon. Neither does Ford anymore.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Modern Racism
No one today admits to being a racist. When we imagine living in the 50's, we're sure we'd be on the side of the marchers and freedom riders. "Of course children of different races should go to school together!" we say, but the reality is that secondary education is less integrated today than it was in 1968. White kids may request hip-hop songs when they're out on Frday nights, but most would be nervous walking home afterwards if they they were the only white kids on the street.
Racism today is subtler, and it is more mixed up in classism. A few wealthy Black kids in a suburban school doesn't bother anyone; it probably makes the district feel proud of its diversity. I bet there are a lot of voters out there who privately agree with Senator Joe Biden's offhand comment that Barack Obama is "the first mainstream African-American candidate who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy." Naturally, they'd never phrase it like that (after all, as Barack wisely noted, this is historically inaccurate), but Obama does have broad appeal through his assimilation in mainstream white culture that reassures Americans. They could vote for a Black candidate, so they're not racist.
When Black people are poorer, or less articulate, or simply are the majority in the area, people are less comfortable. "That bar is sooo ghetto," I've heard many times. "I walked in there and was like, I'm the only white person in here... I was a little scared." When people are nervous, the PC rhetoric fades away, leaving "Black=ghetto=more prone to violence" equation out in the open. Statistically, Black men are overrepresented in our prison system. Median incomes among Black families are lower than among white families. I believe that the fear of large groups of Black people, and especially of Black men, contrbute to segregated neighborhoods, which of course exacerbate the problem of segregated socializing.
Modern racism is a complex issues, and I don't have a simple solution. I'd like to see the same education system in the inner-cities as in the suburbs, so that all kids have the same opportunities - and so that parents might be less afraid of sending their kids to a school where everyone didn't look like them. I'd like to see housing anti-discrimination laws more strictly enforced because it's only fair - and because it's high time that more children grew up playing with neighbors of different races. I'd like to increase the number of public defenders and examine our drug policy, because the system we have is clearly not working.
The other day, I was talking about how badly I needed a haircut as I ate lunch at work. "Really?" my friend Maisha asked. "White people's hair gets split ends too?"
I held up a handful of my stringy blonde hair for her to see, and disspelled that myth in a matter of seconds.
We laughed, but thinking about that conversation now makes me sad. Girls talk a lot about their hair, or at least my friends do. We discuss it with each other before we get it cut, attempt highlights, or even go out with it parted on the other side. How could Maisha not have known this basic fact about white hair? Maybe she just has better things to talk about. My guess, though, is she didn't have many close white friends growing up. (To be honest, I don't know too much about the whole extension thing, either.)
It's tempting to end this with a paragraph of "I want my kids..." sentiments. I want my kids to grow up in schools that really are diverse. I want my kids to be comfortable in situations where their race is the minority, or the majority, or, better yet, not to care. But I don't plan on having kids in the next couple years, and I think there are a lot of steps we can take now. There's no better way to overcome prejudice than through interaction. We can start by consciously interacting more with people of all races, listening to their ideas, and working together towards a society where racism really is just a part of the past. I want my kids to know I did something to change modern racism, rather than just wait for the perfect, prejudice-free world of the future.
Racism today is subtler, and it is more mixed up in classism. A few wealthy Black kids in a suburban school doesn't bother anyone; it probably makes the district feel proud of its diversity. I bet there are a lot of voters out there who privately agree with Senator Joe Biden's offhand comment that Barack Obama is "the first mainstream African-American candidate who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy." Naturally, they'd never phrase it like that (after all, as Barack wisely noted, this is historically inaccurate), but Obama does have broad appeal through his assimilation in mainstream white culture that reassures Americans. They could vote for a Black candidate, so they're not racist.
When Black people are poorer, or less articulate, or simply are the majority in the area, people are less comfortable. "That bar is sooo ghetto," I've heard many times. "I walked in there and was like, I'm the only white person in here... I was a little scared." When people are nervous, the PC rhetoric fades away, leaving "Black=ghetto=more prone to violence" equation out in the open. Statistically, Black men are overrepresented in our prison system. Median incomes among Black families are lower than among white families. I believe that the fear of large groups of Black people, and especially of Black men, contrbute to segregated neighborhoods, which of course exacerbate the problem of segregated socializing.
Modern racism is a complex issues, and I don't have a simple solution. I'd like to see the same education system in the inner-cities as in the suburbs, so that all kids have the same opportunities - and so that parents might be less afraid of sending their kids to a school where everyone didn't look like them. I'd like to see housing anti-discrimination laws more strictly enforced because it's only fair - and because it's high time that more children grew up playing with neighbors of different races. I'd like to increase the number of public defenders and examine our drug policy, because the system we have is clearly not working.
The other day, I was talking about how badly I needed a haircut as I ate lunch at work. "Really?" my friend Maisha asked. "White people's hair gets split ends too?"
I held up a handful of my stringy blonde hair for her to see, and disspelled that myth in a matter of seconds.
We laughed, but thinking about that conversation now makes me sad. Girls talk a lot about their hair, or at least my friends do. We discuss it with each other before we get it cut, attempt highlights, or even go out with it parted on the other side. How could Maisha not have known this basic fact about white hair? Maybe she just has better things to talk about. My guess, though, is she didn't have many close white friends growing up. (To be honest, I don't know too much about the whole extension thing, either.)
It's tempting to end this with a paragraph of "I want my kids..." sentiments. I want my kids to grow up in schools that really are diverse. I want my kids to be comfortable in situations where their race is the minority, or the majority, or, better yet, not to care. But I don't plan on having kids in the next couple years, and I think there are a lot of steps we can take now. There's no better way to overcome prejudice than through interaction. We can start by consciously interacting more with people of all races, listening to their ideas, and working together towards a society where racism really is just a part of the past. I want my kids to know I did something to change modern racism, rather than just wait for the perfect, prejudice-free world of the future.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The Truth about Food Stamps
The Food Stamp Program (FSP) is our nation’s first defense against hunger. Like many programs for the poor, it comes under much scrutiny, especially when it seems that recipients are not using their benefits wisely. These are our tax dollars, people argue; we don’t this money wasted. The FSP, however, is very efficient and effective program, and it is a vital safety net for the poorest people in this country. Many myths about this program persist, though, so let’s set the record straight.
The Food Stamp Program increases food purchasing power of poor people. Participating households enjoy greater food and protein availability than eligible households who do not participate. Some studies show that participating households consume more vitamins and minerals, but the evidence for this is weaker (1).
It would be nice to think that people who receive food stamps purchase only healthy, wholesome foods. However, one of the benefits of this program is that it allows participants to make their own decisions about food. This independence is important for maintaining autonomy and dignity for poor families. Also, healthy foods like fruits and vegetables cost more than processed goods that are often high in sugar and fat. With the average monthly food stamp benefit hovering around $1 per meal for each person in the household, buying healthy food is challenging.
Half of all FSP participants are children. Eight percent are elderly. Around 16% of households who receive food stamps have at least one member who is disabled. Nearly all households who participate in the program live below the poverty line. Two out of five of these households earn incomes that reach less than half of the poverty line. The FSP average participant has countable resources (including bank accounts and non-excludable vehicles) totaling $137. Only U.S.citizens and some permanent residents are eligible (2).
What all these statistics mean is that food stamps are reaching the poorest people in our country, and those who are most vulnerable to food insecurity. With low incomes and few resources to fall back on, these households depend on food stamps to ensure that they can feed their families.
FSP benefits can only be used for food purchases. Benefits can not be used for cigarettes, alcohol, or pet foods. Te electronic benefit card, which has replaced the old paper stamps, creates an electronic record and reduced improper use of FSP benefits.
The FSP is more efficient than ever. Of households receiving food stamp benefits, 98% are eligible. And of all the errors reported in the FSP, two-thirds are the result of caseworker errors, not participant misinformation. The overwhelming majority of overpayments went to very poor households, and did not even push these families over the poverty line.
The Food Stamp Program ensures that the poorest households in our country can buy food. The program continues to improve in efficiency, and I hope that we use the 2007 Farm Bill as an opportunity to strengthen and expand this important safety net. We are one of the richest nations in the world, and we can certainly afford to help our poorest citizens buy the food they need.
Soures:
1. Fox, Mary K., William Hamilton, and Biing-Hwan Lin. ""Effects of Food Assistance and Nutrition Programs on Nutrition and Health: Executive Summary of the Literature Review, Volume 4". Food Assistance and Nutrition Research Report, No. (FANRR 1904). December 20042. "Characteristics of Food Stamp Households, Fiscal Year 2005." Food and Nutrtion Services, Office of Analysis, Nutrition and Evaluation. Sept. 20063. "GAO Finds Food Stamp Program Improving." http://harkin.senate.gov/news.cfm?id=237281
The Food Stamp Program increases food purchasing power of poor people. Participating households enjoy greater food and protein availability than eligible households who do not participate. Some studies show that participating households consume more vitamins and minerals, but the evidence for this is weaker (1).
It would be nice to think that people who receive food stamps purchase only healthy, wholesome foods. However, one of the benefits of this program is that it allows participants to make their own decisions about food. This independence is important for maintaining autonomy and dignity for poor families. Also, healthy foods like fruits and vegetables cost more than processed goods that are often high in sugar and fat. With the average monthly food stamp benefit hovering around $1 per meal for each person in the household, buying healthy food is challenging.
Half of all FSP participants are children. Eight percent are elderly. Around 16% of households who receive food stamps have at least one member who is disabled. Nearly all households who participate in the program live below the poverty line. Two out of five of these households earn incomes that reach less than half of the poverty line. The FSP average participant has countable resources (including bank accounts and non-excludable vehicles) totaling $137. Only U.S.citizens and some permanent residents are eligible (2).
What all these statistics mean is that food stamps are reaching the poorest people in our country, and those who are most vulnerable to food insecurity. With low incomes and few resources to fall back on, these households depend on food stamps to ensure that they can feed their families.
FSP benefits can only be used for food purchases. Benefits can not be used for cigarettes, alcohol, or pet foods. Te electronic benefit card, which has replaced the old paper stamps, creates an electronic record and reduced improper use of FSP benefits.
The FSP is more efficient than ever. Of households receiving food stamp benefits, 98% are eligible. And of all the errors reported in the FSP, two-thirds are the result of caseworker errors, not participant misinformation. The overwhelming majority of overpayments went to very poor households, and did not even push these families over the poverty line.
The Food Stamp Program ensures that the poorest households in our country can buy food. The program continues to improve in efficiency, and I hope that we use the 2007 Farm Bill as an opportunity to strengthen and expand this important safety net. We are one of the richest nations in the world, and we can certainly afford to help our poorest citizens buy the food they need.
Soures:
1. Fox, Mary K., William Hamilton, and Biing-Hwan Lin. ""Effects of Food Assistance and Nutrition Programs on Nutrition and Health: Executive Summary of the Literature Review, Volume 4". Food Assistance and Nutrition Research Report, No. (FANRR 1904). December 20042. "Characteristics of Food Stamp Households, Fiscal Year 2005." Food and Nutrtion Services, Office of Analysis, Nutrition and Evaluation. Sept. 20063. "GAO Finds Food Stamp Program Improving." http://harkin.senate.gov/news.cfm?id=237281
Why I'm Obsessed with the Farm Bill
Why the Farm Bill?
If you had the chance to reduce hunger in the U.S., strengthen rural communities, and help farmers in the developing world, wouldn’t you take it? In fact, we have just such an opportunity this year. One mammoth piece of legislation heavily impacts all three of these areas, and it is renewed just once every five years. Let me introduce (drumroll, please)… the Farm Bill!
U.S. Hunger and the Farm Bill
The largest expenditure in the Farm Bill, by far, is the nutrition program. Ninety-five percent of this goes to the Food Stamp program, our nation’s first defense against hunger. Food stamps allow low-income families and individuals to buy nutritious food. Food stamps are also an essential safety net for households who experience natural disasters. After the Katrina and Wilma hurricanes, 4 million additional families used food stamps to avoid hunger.
In our country today, 11.4% of households are hungry or at risk of hunger. This means that, while they are not dying of starvation, there are days when they skip meals because they cannot afford to buy food. The Food Stamp Program helps to combat hunger, but it does not do enough. Half of the households who receive food stamps still report hunger. Perhaps this is because the average monthly Food Stamp benefit per participant equals $92.72, or $1.03 per meal!
Bread for the World wants to increase benefits and participation in the Food Stamp Program, as well as provide incentives for the purchase of fruits and vegetables. This is a great opportunity to improve the food security and nutrition for poor people in this country.
Rural Communities in America
When you think of rural America, do you picture farmers? Today, 50 million Americans live in rural communities; only 3 million of them are farmers. Many rural communities are struggling to keep up with the changing economy. The poverty rate in rural America is 14%, and the child hunger rate is a horrifying 20%! If we want to address rural poverty, we must examine the whole picture.
In the last Farm Bill, only 3% of the budget went to rural development. Bread for the World is asking for an increase in this budget, to allow for local incentives to revitalize rural towns, to provide resources and incentives for rural entrepreneurs, and to increase telecommunications and Internet access in rural areas.
While rural development got only a sliver of the pie, 21% of the last Farm Bill budget went to commodity payments for farmers. The wealthiest 10% of farmers received 66% of the payments. In other words, most of the money went to the farmers who needed the least! Bread is asking that the commodity payment program be more efficient, so that government support can go to those who need it most.
Farmers in Developing Countries
The vast majority of the world’s poor and hungry people work in farming. Our commodity payment program hurts them when the world agricultural market is flooded with cheap American crops. Our commodity payment program pays farmers based on how much they produce, encouraging them to produce more than the market demands. Farmers in developing countries cannot compete with these artificially low prices for agricultural products and often cannot make a living anymore from their farms.
Our trade-distorting commodity payment program is ruining the livelihoods of many farmers in the developing world. Bread for the World wants to reform this program in the next Farm Bill, so that we help the American farmers who are struggling instead of encouraging the largest commercial farms to overproduce. This, in turn, would allow farmers in the developing world to earn a living. It’s a win-win situation!
The 2007 Farm Bill has great potential to reduce hunger and poverty both in the U.S. and internationally. People and organizations from across the political spectrum, from Oxfam to the Cato Institute, are working together to revise this legislation. Whether you are a long-time activist or this is your first introduction to hunger and trade issues, the 2007 Farm Bill promises to be an exciting opportunity to impact hunger and poverty worldwide.
If you had the chance to reduce hunger in the U.S., strengthen rural communities, and help farmers in the developing world, wouldn’t you take it? In fact, we have just such an opportunity this year. One mammoth piece of legislation heavily impacts all three of these areas, and it is renewed just once every five years. Let me introduce (drumroll, please)… the Farm Bill!
U.S. Hunger and the Farm Bill
The largest expenditure in the Farm Bill, by far, is the nutrition program. Ninety-five percent of this goes to the Food Stamp program, our nation’s first defense against hunger. Food stamps allow low-income families and individuals to buy nutritious food. Food stamps are also an essential safety net for households who experience natural disasters. After the Katrina and Wilma hurricanes, 4 million additional families used food stamps to avoid hunger.
In our country today, 11.4% of households are hungry or at risk of hunger. This means that, while they are not dying of starvation, there are days when they skip meals because they cannot afford to buy food. The Food Stamp Program helps to combat hunger, but it does not do enough. Half of the households who receive food stamps still report hunger. Perhaps this is because the average monthly Food Stamp benefit per participant equals $92.72, or $1.03 per meal!
Bread for the World wants to increase benefits and participation in the Food Stamp Program, as well as provide incentives for the purchase of fruits and vegetables. This is a great opportunity to improve the food security and nutrition for poor people in this country.
Rural Communities in America
When you think of rural America, do you picture farmers? Today, 50 million Americans live in rural communities; only 3 million of them are farmers. Many rural communities are struggling to keep up with the changing economy. The poverty rate in rural America is 14%, and the child hunger rate is a horrifying 20%! If we want to address rural poverty, we must examine the whole picture.
In the last Farm Bill, only 3% of the budget went to rural development. Bread for the World is asking for an increase in this budget, to allow for local incentives to revitalize rural towns, to provide resources and incentives for rural entrepreneurs, and to increase telecommunications and Internet access in rural areas.
While rural development got only a sliver of the pie, 21% of the last Farm Bill budget went to commodity payments for farmers. The wealthiest 10% of farmers received 66% of the payments. In other words, most of the money went to the farmers who needed the least! Bread is asking that the commodity payment program be more efficient, so that government support can go to those who need it most.
Farmers in Developing Countries
The vast majority of the world’s poor and hungry people work in farming. Our commodity payment program hurts them when the world agricultural market is flooded with cheap American crops. Our commodity payment program pays farmers based on how much they produce, encouraging them to produce more than the market demands. Farmers in developing countries cannot compete with these artificially low prices for agricultural products and often cannot make a living anymore from their farms.
Our trade-distorting commodity payment program is ruining the livelihoods of many farmers in the developing world. Bread for the World wants to reform this program in the next Farm Bill, so that we help the American farmers who are struggling instead of encouraging the largest commercial farms to overproduce. This, in turn, would allow farmers in the developing world to earn a living. It’s a win-win situation!
The 2007 Farm Bill has great potential to reduce hunger and poverty both in the U.S. and internationally. People and organizations from across the political spectrum, from Oxfam to the Cato Institute, are working together to revise this legislation. Whether you are a long-time activist or this is your first introduction to hunger and trade issues, the 2007 Farm Bill promises to be an exciting opportunity to impact hunger and poverty worldwide.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Noise Pollution
As I walked to work on Friday, I noticed that about half the people I passed had earphones in. The other half, it seemed, were talking on their cells. When I get home, I can always tell before I finish climbing the stairs to our apartment if my roommate is back yet, since she inevitably the TV on. I say I like to run to clear my mind, but I get bored after a few minutes without my iPod. Do we ever have the peace and quiet to think anymore?
In one of my psych classes in college, I read a study about how people concentrate. The most outgoing people concentrate better with mild background noise, the authors found, while more introverted folks worked better in silent environments. The researchers attributed this to the differnces in poeple's ideal excitement levels. Extroverts function best with higher levels of stimulation, while the opposite is true for the shy bunch.
I would place myself right in the middle of the introvert/extrovert spectrum. I definitely prefer silence when I'm writing papers. Or my blog. I can't stand when my coworkers send me on errands or ask me to process forms for them when I'm trying to write a new entry. Reading, though, is a different story. In sixth grade, I once mumbled "Just a sec" to my teacher when she tried to interrupt me from The Hobbit to ask me to answer a math problem on the board. Two days ago, the cashier at Au Bon Pain had to tap my shoulder to remove my from Kate Atkinson's latest mystery to let me know I needed to exit the premises - because the fire alarm was going off. Whether that proves that I belong in the mixed intro/extrovert category, or I just can't process two things at once, I'm not sure.
On a more serious note, however, society is getting louder. People are constantly talking, even when alone, thanks to cell phones. Car alarms go off for hours. (Don't you always hope, deep down, that their car does indeed get stolen, after all that noise?) Cubicles don't really block out much noise, so phone conversations reverberate throughout the office vicinity.
Maybe we're all used to so much stimulation that silence for any extended period of time makes us panic that we're wasting time. For the first moment out of the office, I am thrilled to hear nothing. By the time I've walked past the second traffic light, though, I am reaching for my phone so I can catch up on calls as I walk home.
I might be thinking deep thoughts as I ride the metro if I couldn't always hear leaking music from someone's earphones. I might have figured out what I want to do about my lame job if I spent my walk home considering what's important to me, not immediately calling friends to plan the night's activities. I'd probably figure out a better ending to this blog post if my roommate hadn't started playing music in her room. I guess if I need to think today, I will just go for a run. With my iPod.
In one of my psych classes in college, I read a study about how people concentrate. The most outgoing people concentrate better with mild background noise, the authors found, while more introverted folks worked better in silent environments. The researchers attributed this to the differnces in poeple's ideal excitement levels. Extroverts function best with higher levels of stimulation, while the opposite is true for the shy bunch.
I would place myself right in the middle of the introvert/extrovert spectrum. I definitely prefer silence when I'm writing papers. Or my blog. I can't stand when my coworkers send me on errands or ask me to process forms for them when I'm trying to write a new entry. Reading, though, is a different story. In sixth grade, I once mumbled "Just a sec" to my teacher when she tried to interrupt me from The Hobbit to ask me to answer a math problem on the board. Two days ago, the cashier at Au Bon Pain had to tap my shoulder to remove my from Kate Atkinson's latest mystery to let me know I needed to exit the premises - because the fire alarm was going off. Whether that proves that I belong in the mixed intro/extrovert category, or I just can't process two things at once, I'm not sure.
On a more serious note, however, society is getting louder. People are constantly talking, even when alone, thanks to cell phones. Car alarms go off for hours. (Don't you always hope, deep down, that their car does indeed get stolen, after all that noise?) Cubicles don't really block out much noise, so phone conversations reverberate throughout the office vicinity.
Maybe we're all used to so much stimulation that silence for any extended period of time makes us panic that we're wasting time. For the first moment out of the office, I am thrilled to hear nothing. By the time I've walked past the second traffic light, though, I am reaching for my phone so I can catch up on calls as I walk home.
I might be thinking deep thoughts as I ride the metro if I couldn't always hear leaking music from someone's earphones. I might have figured out what I want to do about my lame job if I spent my walk home considering what's important to me, not immediately calling friends to plan the night's activities. I'd probably figure out a better ending to this blog post if my roommate hadn't started playing music in her room. I guess if I need to think today, I will just go for a run. With my iPod.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Cell Phone Woes
Cell phones are supposed to make everything easier. You can call for directions on the road, you can let your friends know en route that you're running late, and you can find people in crowds via text messages. This is all wonderful, and I am very grateful for my little Nokia - I really am. I would just like to point out a few flaws in the mobile communications culture that has emerged.
First of all, no one sticks to a plan anymore. Back in the early days of high school, we used to decide two things in advance: where to meet, and what time. And then, we'd actually do that. Sure, some people are meticulously on-time and others perpetually run ten minutes behind schedule, and then there's me, who inevitably gets lost somewhere along the way. Generally, though, we assembled where and when we said we would, and life was peachy.
Today, it's a sign of weakness to plan. "Oh, I'll just give you a call when I see where I am," you say airily to your friends. If you want your crew to meet up on Saturday, you can't pick a bar, or even approximate a meeting time in advance. You all have cell phones! When you all figure out where you are when the time comes to meet, you make five calls, send seven text messages, and can mouthe along with your friend's voicemail greetings before you all figure out how to end up in the same pub. "What did we ever do without cell phones?" you all ask, as you gratefully grab your beers and slip, exhausted, into your boothe. "This is so much easier!"
Second of all, my friends couldn't call after 10 PM back in the olden times of land lines. My dad would get on the phone, even if I'd picked it up after the first ring, and firmly tell the terrified caller, "This is too late for phone calls. Please do not call again at this hour." I was mortified, of course, but it was amazingly effective. Today, friends think nothing of calling me at 1:30 on weeknights or texting "Are you still up?" (well, after the text message beep, I am) at 1 AM on Saturdays.
Sure, I'm usually still awake. But unless we've made plans to talk or go out, post-10 time is Miriam Time. If I'm not out, I'm probably watching the Daily Show, reading a mystery, or eating ice cream with my roommate. Unless I can start remembering to turn my phone on silent at night, I might have to start (gasp!) actually telling my friends not to call me so late.
Finally, there's the whole errand error. I have lots of friends who like to call me as they're heading to the grocery store, picking up packages, or walking home. Fine. I like to use my time efficiently, too. I don't want to talk to you, though, if you're only listening to every other sentense I say because you're also talking to the cashier as you buy your veggies. I don't want to talk to you as you try to argue with the post office over when that package was sent. And I definitely don't want to talk to you as you walk down a noisy street, asking me to repeat everything I say that happens to coincide with a bus or truck passing by.
Way back when, I used to talk to my friends from my comfy chair under the phone in my bedroom. We even had phone cords that kept us in the same area throughout the phone call. We even heard each other throughout the conversation, and never lost reception halfway through a good story. And I never fell asleep halfway through the talk, because they couldn't call past my bedtime in the first place.
I'm just as grateful as the next person for the ability to call when lost or late (okay, probably more grateful, since both of those apply to me so often), but I think cell phones have changed this generation's ability to plan and focus. Worst of all, I don't have anyone's number memorized anymore. If my cell phone broke, I don't know how I'd survive.
First of all, no one sticks to a plan anymore. Back in the early days of high school, we used to decide two things in advance: where to meet, and what time. And then, we'd actually do that. Sure, some people are meticulously on-time and others perpetually run ten minutes behind schedule, and then there's me, who inevitably gets lost somewhere along the way. Generally, though, we assembled where and when we said we would, and life was peachy.
Today, it's a sign of weakness to plan. "Oh, I'll just give you a call when I see where I am," you say airily to your friends. If you want your crew to meet up on Saturday, you can't pick a bar, or even approximate a meeting time in advance. You all have cell phones! When you all figure out where you are when the time comes to meet, you make five calls, send seven text messages, and can mouthe along with your friend's voicemail greetings before you all figure out how to end up in the same pub. "What did we ever do without cell phones?" you all ask, as you gratefully grab your beers and slip, exhausted, into your boothe. "This is so much easier!"
Second of all, my friends couldn't call after 10 PM back in the olden times of land lines. My dad would get on the phone, even if I'd picked it up after the first ring, and firmly tell the terrified caller, "This is too late for phone calls. Please do not call again at this hour." I was mortified, of course, but it was amazingly effective. Today, friends think nothing of calling me at 1:30 on weeknights or texting "Are you still up?" (well, after the text message beep, I am) at 1 AM on Saturdays.
Sure, I'm usually still awake. But unless we've made plans to talk or go out, post-10 time is Miriam Time. If I'm not out, I'm probably watching the Daily Show, reading a mystery, or eating ice cream with my roommate. Unless I can start remembering to turn my phone on silent at night, I might have to start (gasp!) actually telling my friends not to call me so late.
Finally, there's the whole errand error. I have lots of friends who like to call me as they're heading to the grocery store, picking up packages, or walking home. Fine. I like to use my time efficiently, too. I don't want to talk to you, though, if you're only listening to every other sentense I say because you're also talking to the cashier as you buy your veggies. I don't want to talk to you as you try to argue with the post office over when that package was sent. And I definitely don't want to talk to you as you walk down a noisy street, asking me to repeat everything I say that happens to coincide with a bus or truck passing by.
Way back when, I used to talk to my friends from my comfy chair under the phone in my bedroom. We even had phone cords that kept us in the same area throughout the phone call. We even heard each other throughout the conversation, and never lost reception halfway through a good story. And I never fell asleep halfway through the talk, because they couldn't call past my bedtime in the first place.
I'm just as grateful as the next person for the ability to call when lost or late (okay, probably more grateful, since both of those apply to me so often), but I think cell phones have changed this generation's ability to plan and focus. Worst of all, I don't have anyone's number memorized anymore. If my cell phone broke, I don't know how I'd survive.
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