In my
last post, I wrote about some right-wing objections to the food stamp challenge. Here's one from the left—and my reaction to it.
Left-Wing Objections
A few days ago I came across
this Daily Kos article, which objects to the food stamp challenge from a Foucaultian angle:
Is the growing trend of both prominent and ordinary citizens undertaking the food stamp challenge actually reinforcing the power differential it was intended to address?
The Daily Kos writer compares the food stamp challenge to the sensitivity-training exercises conducted in university and corporate settings to encourage members of our society’s privileged classes to understand the barriers faced by others. The author argues that these exercises don’t give us an accurate picture of what it means to be poor in America, and—worse—if more and more people take the challenge and claim that it shows them what poverty is like, the result marginalizes the actual voice of the poor.
While acknowledging that “[w]hen done right [these exercises] can make a person think outside of their comfort zone,” the writer calls the challenge “a moment of politically correct self-flagellation” and concludes with the hope that those who undertake the food stamp challenge and similar exercises “do not dare to consider themselves authorities on what it means to be poor in America. If so, the food stamp challenge and other such exercises, while well-intended, are actually reinforcing the systems of inequality and privilege they are ostensibly intending to overthrow and challenge” (emphasis mine).
Can We Take the Challenge without Claiming to Experience Poverty?
Certainly, the writer is correct that these exercises don’t give us an accurate picture of what it means to be poor in America (as I hope I’ve made clear throughout this blog, and as one person commented on the Daily Kos article while also mentioning the book Nickel and Dimed).
In this blog, I intend only to point out some food-related hurdles that many people of my socioeconomic status don’t normally think about in our daily lives. If I get one or two more people thinking about hunger—even just realizing they don’t understand what it’s like—then I’ve accomplished something.
Also, food stamp challenge participants are encouraged to donate the difference between their usual grocery spending and the challenge budget. If I take the challenge, and I find it’s quite manageable thanks to the nonmonetary advantages I acknowledge having (time, transportation, cooking knowledge, kitchen equipment, etc.), then why not do this once a year, or more often, and donate that sum each time? That way, I’d be putting that knowledge and those advantages—and all the extra time I’ve spent planning for the challenge this year—to good use. And what if everyone reading this did the same once a year, too?
As long as we realize we’re not truly experiencing poverty, and we don’t claim to speak for those who do, then is the challenge acceptable? Through this exercise, can we help to lessen the power differential in our society, not increase it?
Is the Challenge Disrespectful?
On the other hand, I've had a nagging doubt since the first days of considering the challenge: Is the challenge disrespectful of those who experience poverty for real?
I wrote the following draft on 1/29/13, along with the notes on the conservative objections from my last post, but did not publish it then. (Interestingly, both the Daily Kos writer and I compare the food stamp challenge to the exercises used to raise awareness of other people’s situations.)
Should I not take this challenge, out of respect for those who don’t have a choice about it? Or at least not be writing about it?
Let’s think about it this way.
Is it OK to do the game where you gather people around a table, then apportion a hundred grains of rice according to the worldwide division of resources among nations? That’s clearly a teaching tool. I can’t see any objection to it.
Would it be OK to blindfold oneself or limit the use of one’s legs for an entire week to learn about the situation of those with physical differences? That doesn’t seem right at all. It might come across as making fun of people, even if it wasn’t intended that way.
On the other hand, if attendees at a conference were told to, for example, close their eyes and attempt to write with their nondominant hand for ten minutes in order to understand other people’s situation, it would be a vivid example. I don’t see any problem with that one.
So is the duration the key? Ten minutes = OK, one week = not OK?
Or is it the nature of the example? Food insecurity can be changed. It’s not a permanent situation. It’s something that nobody should have to experience. And (I’m guessing, though even on this I could be wrong) it’s something nobody wants to claim as a part of their identity in the way that many in various disability communities choose to embrace their differences.
So, am I being respectful enough? Or am I actually—intentionally or not—trampling upon those whose situation I am imperfectly simulating, and in the process increasing the power gap between our positions in society, by “using” their situation to move toward an increased awareness of my own privilege?
Does it matter what I’m planning to do with the saved money at the end, or is this minor practical benefit (even if multiplied by encouraging others to do the same) outweighed by the negative risk of stifling the voice of those with less power in our society?
Does the hope of using my voice to “speak” on behalf of others, while not claiming to speak for them, mitigate this risk at all? Or am I still falling into the trap? Ultimately (as many have noted before me), how can we ever speak respectfully, even in the most general terms and with the best of intentions, about experiences other than our own?
Then I come back to the question: Is the act of writing about the challenge the problem? Should those who take the food stamp challenge do so only in private?
