Let Them Eat Cake!

I promised to write about food. So here it is.

When I was part of the employed population my concerns about food were mainly around where to get it efficiently, how to eat it in a socially acceptable way (I have to be fed and it takes me longer to eat than typical, both of which can make for awkward moments at business lunches) and how to dance with my diabetes. The easiest way to address these concerns was to buy a lot of take out food, eat some of it as leftovers and, eat a third of my meal at social functions so I could keep up. I expected to throw away lots of my food but I did my best to minimize waste and to share my abundance. For example, at restaurants, I usually attempted to co-order with someone, sharing my appetizer and dessert, so that we could all order less and eat a broader range of selections.

These strategies are not unlike the ones typically used by people who work for money. In other words I ate like most employed people who have no Mom-like person at home to shop, prepare and clean up. For example I have heard it said that as Poland moved into a capitalistic economy in the 80’s and 90’s (?) there was a huge rise of the use of restaurants and take out establishments.

As an ODSP recipient the situation is quite different. First and foremost I have less than $300/month to spend on food. How can this be? Well, the after rent amount of money has to cover toothpaste, toilet paper, laundry, cleaning supplies, over-the-counter medication, the phone, transportation etc, etc. Under certain circumstances you can get an allowance for transportation. But to get this benefit a person must prove a need and be willing to show up in Doctor’s offices several times a month. I don’t know about you but I’ve certainly noticed a direct connection between heavy use of the medical system and being sick, and it’s not a one way relationship. Too much doctoring can ruin your health. I’m not about to put myself in that type of jeopardy!

The obvious answer to not having enough money is to get free food. As a person who claimed less then $12,000 income last year, I am eligible for the use of the Food Bank. I signed up for one and was qualified to go once per week.

The food bank I have been assigned to is also the provincial distribution warehouse for the Daily Bread Food Bank. (By the way you nearly never can get bread at the Daily Bread Food Bank – Roberts, NOW Magazine, April 22, 2010.) The access for wheelchair users to our local food distribution area is through the shipping and receiving area. I have been warned to be careful of the forklifts. I’ve had the opportunity to see the workings of the system behind the scenes because of this access difference. Regular “clients” never go through the shipping area.

One of my observations is that what I get to choose from when I ultimately get to the distribution room has a much smaller selection range then what is in storage in the warehouse. I can’t say at this point why that would be but it certainly is worth exploring. There is another story in there!

One other comment about the food bank warehouse is that it is in a building next door to the Toronto Police College and otherwise surrounded by industrial activities. A person who walks or uses public transportation has to carry several loaded shopping bags at least 7 blocks to get to any residential area and 1 long block to get to a bus line. Clearly many of us who use the food bank are there because we are not “fit” in the usual sense. This means that “clients” spent at least $6 on 2 bus tickets to use this service. That’s $24 a month out of a meagre income.

Once past the shipping area there are 3 sign-in steps. Typically the food bank is open 4 days a week for approximately 4 hours. If it opens at 2pm the first sign-in time is 1pm. So people come into a large room, put their name in a book and sit on a bench to wait. Sometime during this waiting period each person goes to a small office where a volunteer records their use of the food bank, ensuring that they are using the service only once that week.

This step is set up as a job training site. The person updating the record at the computer clearly is unfamiliar with data systems. The data enterer issues the “client” a white, dry erase card that lets the other volunteers know how much food the “client” is permitted to have. My card will say “1” in black marker ink At this point I may proceed to the 2nd waiting area – and wait.

When the door opens between the 2nd waiting room and the actual distribution room I sign my name into another registry and hand my ticket to another volunteer who has to refer to a dry erase bulletin board on the wall. This board has an updatable chart that lets the distribution volunteer know what categories a person with a “1” may select from and how many items from each category they may have. People with different numbers and/or a sign on their card that indicates there is a baby in their household have allowances that can vary by both category and quantity. This moment of entry is rife with confusion as distribution volunteers and “clients” assess what their real choices are.

My sense of it is that confusion arises from numerous factors. One is that the volunteers who distribute the food are not clear about what food belongs to which categories. Secondly, every volunteer I have met genuinely wants to give me something that I would like you eat and that I know how to use. This can lead to an interesting dance because some volunteers have very different food preferences and experiences from my own. All have been visibly frustrated by the limitations of what is available to them to give out to me.

I don’t claim that my experience is the same as every other “client”. For one thing I have a “worker” with me. My PCA who has driven me to the food bank comes in with me to assist me. The officials of the food bank (of which as far as I can tell there is only 1 or possibly 2) have deemed that this means that I should always go to the front of the line. It also means that all the volunteers instantly talk to my “worker” instead of to me, and my “worker” is trained to get them to talk to me instead of to them. And so we go through a very friendly and fascination dance of pointing and waving and negotiating what food I will actually get to take home.

As I mentioned before I am diabetic. I PRIDE myself on the fact that I am very good at managing my blood sugar so well that my bi-annual test typically indicates that I am not diabetic. This of course is not true and if I ceased for even two weeks to do what I have taught myself over 15 years to do to manage my blood sugar I would be in a serious situation. I also have chewing and swallowing difficulties. The food I eat has to be low in sugar, high in protein and moisture, and easily turned into a pasty but tasty mix.

Ideal foods for this process are canned tuna and salmon, breakfast cereals with no added sugar, juices with no added sugar, canned chilli, and the like. The only protein that I’ve seen in the food bank with one exception is hot dogs and sandwich meats. Milk is frequently available but typically so old that it won’t last a week. The only cheese, if any, is the processed, sliced kind. There are endless cans of pre-sugared anything you can imagine, lots of crackers, lots of sweet snacks and a few old and tired vegetables. Out of this I must design a diabetic-friendly menu. (By the way in a span of 5 weeks I received one roll of toilet paper.)

Obviously I can’t depend on the food bank to stay healthy. I, like other people who use the food bank, quickly invented a number of strategies for coping. I went to the support group meeting to talk to people about their strategies, but I had little chance. As I mentioned in my previous blog entry (Exploration) advocacy tends always to be the main topic on the table. But one woman did tell me some interesting ideas.

For example, she volunteers at a place that is a distribution point for retail organic food. Volunteers receive a free box of food that is individualized to their needs and preferences. The volunteers have to be able to lift heavy boxes. (I guess they don’t have any forklifts.) I’m willing to see if there is anything that I could do for that group that would help them out and give me status!

Last Friday the ODSP support group did spend considerable time talking about the ongoing tussle between the Government and the recipients over who is eligible for the “special” allowance for “special” diets. Many service providers have had their hands slapped for signing up ODSP recipients as “special” in their food needs. Because of this practice the government is trying to restrict the use of this allowance. I have not yet asked for the special allowance because I do not want to get stuck in the fight if I can avoid it.

So here are some of my strategies. Some of my personal assistants bring me food that they or their colleagues have left over from other functions. In turn I sometimes give them some of the food I’ve accumulate at the food bank that I can’t use - foods like sweet snacks, certain kinds of canned beans, or overwhelming amounts of pasta…you can always get pasta at the food bank. Secondly I allow my father and others to buy me lunch on a very frequent basis. Thirdly I have been adapting recipes to mix various purchased food with food bank offerings. A Polish deli in my neighbourhood sells bottles of pickled herring at a very reasonable price. It’s a good breakfast protein served with the Swiss Chalet sour cream mini-containers sometimes available at the food bank. The jellied dessert mix is too sweet but mixed with the cranberry sauce that one volunteer gave me three large cans of it gelled into a less sweet dessert that goes down well with the pain pills I have to chew. (ODSP doesn’t cover the liquid version of Advil and I can’t swallow well!) One week we made a large soup out of the tired vegetables and some of the food bank cans of chicken noodle soup. We put a lot of it in the freezer.

My chief point is that very little of this has to do with eating. So much of it has to do with negotiating a path through other people’s vision of what poor people need. Most “clients” try to be nice about it, but the fact is that we go to enormous physical, emotional and mental effort to manage the help that is provided because we are “needy”. But imagine the life of someone who spends much time and energy, and scarce bus fare, to use a food bank, then at home spends more time and energy to prepare and store lower quality food in such a way that it will last at least a week. Where will this person also find important time, energy and mental capacity to learn new skills and find a job?

Imagine a different picture. Imagine the same person taking real money or a widely accepted debit card to the stores and restaurants of their choice, socializing with neighbours and people with real jobs and sharing time at typical coffee break establishments while attending a local college or retraining program. Leading the same life style of a valued citizen can make available a very different future.

My conclusion continues to be that the poor are intended to be poor!! The system ensures that it is so. Poverty IS the future intended for the poor.

I believe that all the volunteers I have met so far are people who are on ODSP or some other kind of stipend. It is my intention when it is feasible to interview them about how they negotiate being poor and contribute to the poverty system. Theirs are definitely other stories!

Judith