A humanitarian tragedy is unfolding in real time, in front of our eyes.
As the lockdown of the United States government enters its second month, with ruinous economic and societal consequences, Marylanders are now coming to grips with the fact that too many of our neighbors simply do not have enough food to eat.
The announcement by the Trump Administration that Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) benefits would be suspended on November 1 due to a supposed lack of funding— even as the U.S. Department of Agriculture sits on an emergency fund with a $5-6 billion balance—has cast an overdue spotlight on what can only be described as the “Hidden Maryland.”
One that is quietly kept separate from the iconic images of one of America’s wealthiest states.
One that exists alongside, and yet worlds apart from the stately mansions of Guilford and Potomac, and the vibrant energy of National Harbor and downtown Frederick.
One that is invisible from the fortified boardrooms of St. Mary’s County’s aerospace sector, and exists in stark contrast to the old-money charm of Talbot County’s sailing set.
In this Maryland, nearly 700,000 people need government support to put food on the table. In this Maryland, one out six children do not have enough food to eat.
These children do not regard school as a dreary obligation of adolescence, but as their only chance to enjoy a decent meal that makes them feel good again.
Unlike their peers, these young Marylanders do not count down the hours to the weekend, and they most assuredly will not be marking off the days until the start of Thanksgiving and Christmas vacation. For them, these are not respites from the drudgery of the classroom but, rather, a terrifying stretch of days in which they do not know when or where they will eat again.
According to data from Feeding America, a national non-profit organization that feeds more than 46 million people each year, one of every six children in our state experience hunger. Contrary to what one might assume, this crisis has not been relegated to Maryland’s poorest communities but has, instead, become prevalent in every county and region of our state.
For example, 44 percent of Montgomery County’s 161,000 public school students qualify for free and reduced-price meals—because of their household incomes, participation in supplemental government nutrition programs or personal circumstances such as homelessness or foster care. In Baltimore County, a whopping 66 percent are eligible. Even in affluent rural jurisdictions such as Talbot County—which is occasionally referred to as “Maryland’s Hamptons”—nearly 60 percent of their 4,523 students qualify.
There are some who may read this and assume that, as devastating as generational poverty may be for children and the broader society, we can continue to rely on school meals to prevent matters from getting even worse.
That would be a deeply flawed and highly dangerous assumption. The onslaught of ruinous policy decisions coming out of Washington this year have inflicted disproportionate harm on our state and, specifically, the children our government supposedly exists to protect.
According to the Maryland Department of Labor, we have lost more than 15,000 federal jobs since January—the highest number, by far, of any state in the nation. Adding to the economic devastation are the thousands of federal layoffs that have been carried out by the Trump Administration since the October 1 government shutdown. More than 4,200 people have lost their jobs as of this writing and, tragically, many more are likely to come.
One need not be a macroeconomist to recognize the effect these waves of joblessness will have on demand for discounted meals—particularly when Maryland families are already struggling to cover the soaring costs of rent, electricity, clothing and groceries when paychecks have remained stagnant at best.
The consequences of these circumstances are clear. The demand for school breakfasts and lunches will inevitably exceed the capacity of Maryland’s 24 school systems to pay for them. Children, it should not have to be said, cannot reach their full intellectual, physical and social potential if they do not have enough to eat. Which means a state that has made a multibillion-dollar commitment to Maryland’s Blueprint for Education Reform could experience diminished returns on investment due to a simple lack of food in the pantry.
Let’s end the heartbreaking tragedy unfolding in the hidden Maryland by ensuring our most vulnerable children are being fed for success.
