Tag: poverty advocacy

The Legacy I Hope to Leave Behind

On July 1, 2025

Image: ChatGPT

Legacy is not built all at once. It takes shape over time—quietly, unevenly—through the choices we make, the truths we speak, and the lives we touch. I don’t imagine mine will be written in bold headlines or etched into stone. But I hope it will be felt in subtler, more enduring ways. In the freedom someone claims because I once stood up. In the insight sparked by something I taught or wrote. In the love that lingers in the spaces I leave behind.

I’ve lived many chapters in this life—some of them linear, others far more tangled. I began as a student of anthropology, drawn to the study of culture, meaning, and human complexity. It taught me to listen deeply, to question what seems natural, and to honor what is often ignored or devalued. Anthropology gave me not just tools for understanding others—it gave me a way to understand myself. As a transgender woman, as a spiritual seeker, as someone shaped by forces both seen and hidden, I learned to situate my life within broader currents of history and identity. That perspective never left me.

Eventually, I put my education into service in a different way—as a SNAP program specialist with the USDA. There, I saw how policy lives not in abstract theories but in the faces of people trying to feed their families. I worked at the intersection of administration and survival. It gave me a profound respect for the dignity of everyday life, and a deepened sense of duty to advocate for those so often silenced by red tape and economic cruelty. That role grounded me in the real: in food, in need, in systems and the people caught within them.

But even before all of that, I served my country in uniform. I am a U.S. Navy veteran. I served as a submariner and fought in Desert Storm. It was a life of discipline, of structure, of submerged tension—both literal and emotional. That chapter gave me a close relationship with mortality, with silence, with sacrifice. And later, it gave me the courage to live my truth. Because once you’ve survived war, you learn how little time there really is for pretending.

Though my time teaching in a classroom was brief, it was profoundly meaningful. Education, I believe, is one of the most radical forms of love and hope. I did not stay long enough to become a fixture, but I hope I was a spark. I hope that somewhere, a student remembers me not as perfect, but as present. As someone who saw them clearly, challenged them to think differently, and held space for who they were becoming.

Throughout it all, I’ve remained a writer, a creator, a witness. I write not just to tell stories, but to make space—for desire, for defiance, for complex and beautiful lives that rarely make it into the mainstream. I write for those on the margins, for the ones building new worlds from the ruins of the old, and for the future selves who need proof that we were here.

If I am remembered, I hope it is as someone who lived with fierce honesty. Who loved without shame. Who fought for justice, even when she was exhausted. Who stood in her womanhood and her queerness not as burdens, but as blessings.

I hope my legacy is not one of perfection, but of permission. Permission to live. To change. To desire. To dream beyond the roles assigned at birth or by circumstance. I hope I leave behind courage in those who need it. Gentleness in those taught to harden. Fire in those told to shrink.

And if some future soul—browsing an archive, reading a quote, hearing a story—finds a piece of me and thinks, “Because she lived, I feel less alone,” then that is all the immortality I will ever need.

The Hidden Costs of Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill

By Katherine Walter

On May 29, 2025

In Donald Trump

WASHINGTON, DC – MAY 22: U.S. Speaker of the House Mike Johnson (R-LA) speaks to the media after the House narrowly passed a bill forwarding President Donald Trump’s agenda at the U.S. Capitol on May 22, 2025 in Washington, DC. The tax and spending legislation, called the “One, Big, Beautiful Bill” Act, redirects money to the military and border security and includes cuts to Medicaid, education and other domestic programs. Johnson was flanked by House Committee Chairmen who helped craft the legislation. (Photo by Kevin Dietsch/Getty Images)

As a former Senior Program Specialist with the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) at the USDA’s Food and Nutrition Service, I am deeply concerned about the ramifications of President Donald Trump’s recently passed “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” (OBBB). While touted as a transformative economic package, this legislation poses significant threats to both the national economy and the well-being of millions of Americans, particularly through its drastic cuts to SNAP.

The OBBB extends the 2017 tax cuts and introduces additional reductions, primarily benefiting corporations and high-income individuals. Proponents argue that these measures will spur economic growth. However, the Congressional Budget Office projects that the bill will add approximately $3.8 trillion to the national deficit over the next decade (Vanity Fair, 2025). This increase in debt raises concerns about long-term fiscal sustainability and the potential for higher interest rates, which could stifle economic growth rather than promote it.

One of the most alarming aspects of the OBBB is the proposed $300 billion cut to SNAP over the next ten years (Kiplinger, 2025). These cuts would tighten eligibility requirements, shift program costs to states, and limit future benefit increases (Newsweek, 2025). Such changes threaten to increase food insecurity among low-income families, children, the elderly, and individuals with disabilities.

In Wisconsin, for instance, the state could lose over $300 million in food assistance, potentially affecting more than 700,000 residents (Economic Times, 2025). These reductions not only jeopardize the health and well-being of vulnerable populations but also place additional financial burdens on state governments and local communities.

SNAP benefits are not just a lifeline for recipients; they also play a crucial role in supporting local economies. Every dollar spent on SNAP generates approximately $1.50 to $1.80 in economic activity (KCRG, 2025). Cuts to the program could therefore have a cascading effect, reducing revenue for grocery stores, farmers, and food producers. In Iowa, the president of the Iowa Farmers Union expressed concern that reduced SNAP benefits would hurt farmers by decreasing demand for their products (KCRG, 2025).

The OBBB’s approach to shifting SNAP administrative costs to states—up to 75%—represents an unfunded mandate that could strain state budgets (Newsweek, 2025). States would be forced to make difficult decisions, potentially cutting other essential services or increasing taxes to cover the shortfall. This shift undermines the federal-state partnership that has been fundamental to the success of SNAP.

The “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” presents a facade of economic progress while undermining the very foundations of food security and fiscal responsibility. As someone who has dedicated a career to ensuring access to nutrition assistance, I find the proposed cuts to SNAP not only detrimental to individual well-being but also harmful to the broader economy. Policymakers must reconsider these provisions to protect vulnerable populations and maintain the integrity of programs that have long served as a safety net for millions of Americans.

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