Disruption
The shelves may look full for now, but beneath the bright grocery store lights lies a quiet unease. The latest government shutdown has done more than disrupt programs and delay paychecks — it has shaken the safety net so many Americans, especially people with disabilities, rely on to make it through the month.
I had hoped grown-ups would have stood up for those in need. Instead, they went on vacation.
That single sentence sums up so much of what feels broken right now — the loss of leadership, the erosion of empathy, the sense that everyday people are left holding the bag while those in power step away from their responsibility.
For millions, the loss or delay of SNAP benefits means more than an inconvenience. It means empty refrigerators, skipped meals, and the stress of trying to stretch what’s left in the pantry. It means the exhausting math of deciding between medication, utilities, and groceries.
As a mom, an advocate, and a neighbor, I find the lack of compassion behind these political stalemates deeply troubling. Policy debates have faces — real people, many with disabilities, whose lives depend on consistent support. When Congress stalls, families suffer.
Stocking Up — and Reaching Out
Some of us saw this coming. We filled our carts with sale items, stretched coupons, and did what we could to prepare. But not everyone had that chance. Many people live paycheck to paycheck or depend on benefits that are now in jeopardy.
So we’re doing what communities do best: helping one another.
We’ve offered to share what we can with friends and neighbors who need help getting through the next few weeks — whether that’s a meal, a ride, or simply a listening ear.
We need to look beyond our immediate challenges and understand how this shutdown and the lack of funding for SNAP ripples through our local grocery stores, food banks, and small businesses. When benefits stop, so do purchases. Shelves don’t move, workers lose hours, and communities lose stability.
The Strain on Grocers and the Food Supply
Grocers — especially small, independent stores and rural markets — rely heavily on consistent customer spending. SNAP purchases account for a significant share of sales at many community stores. When that flow stops, so does cash flow. Inventory begins to pile up. Perishables expire. Distributors reduce deliveries.
If the shutdown lingers, this pressure can cascade through the entire food supply chain:
- Farmers and producers may face reduced orders and waste.
- Truckers and distributors may lose routes or income.
- Store owners may have to cut hours or staff to stay afloat.
And over time, this uncertainty can reshape what food is available — and where. In some communities, already teetering on the edge of becoming food deserts, the closure of one store could mean miles between families and access to fresh produce.
The Stress We All Feel
The tension is everywhere — at the checkout line, in the kitchen, in the hearts of those wondering what tomorrow brings. We feel it because compassion fatigue is real. We want to help, but we’re tired too.
Yet, in moments like these, I believe we are called to remember what binds us together — our shared humanity. Compassion may feel in short supply in Washington, but it doesn’t have to be scarce in our neighborhoods.
What We Can Do
- Check in on a friend or neighbor who might be struggling.
- Donate to or volunteer at local food pantries.
- Support grocery store employees and local markets — they’re on the frontlines of this crisis.
- Speak up. Let your representatives know how these shutdowns harm real people, not just numbers on a spreadsheet.
We can’t fix federal dysfunction overnight. But we can make sure no one in our community faces it alone.
Maybe that’s the most powerful act of resistance — keeping compassion alive when the system forgets how.