After volunteering at a food bank, Geri Spieler explains why support is so necessary.
Volunteering at my local food bank has always been one of the most grounding and rewarding parts of my week. I see people — mothers, seniors, veterans and families — come to our facility every day with quiet dignity, doing what they can to get by. The shelves we stock, the produce we sort, the boxes we fill — it’s all part of a system that, at its best, provides not just meals, but relief, hope and a sense of being seen.
But lately, everything has changed. Federal funding cuts have dealt a devastating blow. It’s not just numbers on a spreadsheet — it’s less milk for children, fewer canned goods on our shelves and more empty boxes turned away at the end of the day. The impact is heartbreaking. I’ve had to look people in the eye and tell them we’re out of basics like rice or peanut butter — items that used to be a given. The food bank has always stretched to meet the need, but now we’re breaking. What’s worse is that the demand has grown as costs rise and safety nets vanish.
I’ve seen seniors skip meals to save food for their grandchildren. I’ve watched single parents ration supplies that used to be enough for the week. And through it all, we volunteers do our best — but we’re running out of options. These cuts are not abstract policy changes. They are real, tangible losses that affect people’s ability to live with dignity. Volunteering here now feels like triage. We’re no longer meeting needs — we’re managing desperation. And I worry deeply about the long-term damage — not just to nutrition and health, but to the very idea that our community, our country, takes care of its own. We can and must do better. With a Perspective, I’m Geri Spieler.
Geri Spieler is a writer, grows fruit trees and is a chicken wrangler in Palo Alto.