Kailee is 9 years old and knows more about budgeting than most adults. She knows the price of milk, which cereal is on sale, and when the grocery total creeps too high, watching as her mom puts the frozen waffles back on the shelf.
She also knows about SNAP, though she still calls them "food stamps," because that's what people around town say when they talk about families like hers. Not always kindly.
Kailee's family moved to Stearns County last year when her dad got accepted into the RN program at Ridgewater. He left a job at the tire shop because it was never going to pay enough, and he was tired of borrowing money from his parents to make rent.
Now he's in school full-time and working weekends at a group home. Her mom works mornings a few towns over in a school cafeteria. They receive about $520 monthly from SNAP.
Without SNAP, they'd have to skip rent or cut utilities. SNAP is simply a lifeline helping them inch forward toward a better future.
You might have heard stories about SNAP: lazy people living large, buying steaks and soda while others work hard. SNAP is one of the most tightly regulated programs in the federal government. The fraud rate is only 1.3 percent, according to the USDA, far lower than Medicare or tax fraud.
In short, over 98 cents of every SNAP dollar go exactly where they should: into grocery carts for families like Kailee's.
About 12,500 of our neighbors, roughly one in every 13 people, receive help from SNAP. That's your child's classmate. The older woman checking receipts at Walmart. The man in line ahead of you buying frozen chicken and rice.
SNAP doesn't make anyone rich. In Minnesota, the average benefit is about $5.17 per person per day. That doesn't buy steak dinners. It buys off-brand cereal, ground turkey instead of beef, and sometimes, if it's a good week, a package of Oreos for Kailee and her brother on a Friday night.
Kailee's mom clips coupons and stretches every dollar. They shop at the Dollar Store, buying frozen vegetables, rice, and meals for the slow cooker. No soda. No steaks.
This is far from a free ride. It's more like a seatbelt to prevent disaster when life takes a sharp turn. For Kailee's family, it's temporary. Her dad has less than a year until graduation, and soon they'll proudly leave SNAP behind.
But right now, they're grateful and a bit ashamed. Kailee once overheard a parent at school joke that "some people have enough time to stand in line for free food but not enough time to get a job." She didn't tell her mom.
What many don't realize is that 84 percent of SNAP households in Minnesota include someone working a full-time job at fifteen dollars an hour still qualifies a family of three for assistance. Wages for many American jobs are not keeping up with rising prices.
Due to the recent government shutdown, SNAP benefits have been delayed for our neighbors, increasing pressure on local food shelves like the Paynesville Community Service Center (110 Lake Avenue S., Paynesville; 320-243-4953). Already seeing a rise in need, they urgently request cash donations to stretch every dollar further and purchase exactly what's needed most.
Nobody wants to need help. Not Kailee's family. Not the elderly couple on fixed income. Not the single mom starting over.
Maybe the next time someone says, "people on food stamps are just lazy," you'll push back. You'll remind them this isn't about politics or personal failure. It's about getting through a hard stretch with some dignity intact. It's a human issue. And whether you've lived it or not, you know this much: life has a way of humbling all of us.
Author's Note: Kailee and her family are based on a real Central Minnesota household. Their names have been changed to protect their privacy.