As I do my work each day, I watch the current federal administration dismantle federal programs, devolve some responsibilities to states while imposing more stringent requirements, and defy court orders to restore programs it tried to abandon.
I see it every day.
And I want to be clear: I care deeply about everyone who is going without. But my vocation is to help people stay housed and escape poverty, so I pay particular attention when policies affecting people living in poverty are disrupted—especially when those policy changes have a disproportionate impact on children.
And I get angry.
Have you thought about what it means for millions of children to lose food assistance—or have a harder time accessing it?
Have you thought about what homelessness does to a child?
What happens when a child’s family loses access to healthcare because of changes to federal programs?
And how exactly is weakening Head Start supposed to result in more children being ready for kindergarten?
These aren’t abstract policy questions to a little child.
Food. Shelter. Healthcare. Education.
These are basic human needs.
And they are also the building blocks of healthy childhood development.
But the federal government ruining these programs contribute to adverse childhood experiences, or as they are also known, ACEs. They aren’t just making life harder for children. They can impact their brain development.
That is what makes me so angry.
Children don’t choose whether their family can afford rent. They don’t choose whether there is food in the refrigerator. They don’t choose whether their parents can access healthcare. They don’t choose whether their preschool program has enough resources to serve them.
They are entirely dependent on the adults and systems around them.
And right now, those systems are being weakened.
I am writing about this today because, while I encounter this information every day through my work, I was in a meeting earlier today where someone listed program after program that is being cut, weakened, or handed off to states with fewer resources and more stringent requirements.
I spoke up.
I stated the obvious.
But my voice was quivering.
I could barely get past four words:
FOOD.
SHELTER.
HEALTHCARE.
EDUCATION.
How can we look at little children—children who have no control over the circumstances into which they were born—and and let our federal government decide that these are the things they should have less of? How can we knowingly increase childhood adversity and then act surprised when the consequences follow children into adolescence and adulthood?
This isn’t just about government programs. It’s about what kind of childhood we are willing to provide our kids, including those living in poverty.
Children deserve better than to pay the price for decisions they had no part in making.
