Like the many that have tried it before me, I found the Food Stamp Challenge to be quite a difficult undertaking. When I first read about some Congressmen trying it, I thought it was an interesting idea and a fine example of experiential learning.

When I figured out that I'd be interning at Share Our Strength for the summer, it became more important to me to try it. To be an advocate for the hungry and impoverished, I figured I needed to know more. By eating on $3 a day, I hoped to gain an understanding as to what it would be like to depend on Food Stamps.

In many ways, the experience was an undeniable success. I used the Challenge as the angle for my Virtual Bake Sale, courtesy of Share Our Strength's Great American Bake Sale. I e-mailed people I knew and invited my friends to join me online as I wrote entries throughout the week. My writing had to do with not only how I was doing, but also with the information I've learned this summer about food access in inner cities, the 2007 Farm Bill, and the link between poverty and obesity. Throughout the week, almost $3,000 was donated to my Virtual Bake Sale -- an unanticipated figure that keeps growing today. At the start of the week, my goal was to raise only $200, and had to be updated constantly to keep up with donations.

The Food Stamp Challenge's impact on me was also not what I expected. It became clear early on that my experience on the equivalent of Food Stamps wasn't the same as someone's who actually is on Food Stamps. Using both hands, I could barely count the number of supermarkets I could drive to within ten minutes of my house in Washington, DC (3 Giant Foods, 3 Safeway, 2 Whole Foods, and a Trader Joe's); meanwhile, there are 2 supermarkets for 140,000 people east of DC's Anacostia River. Plans for a Giant Foods in Ward 8 have been delayed and now the DC government website declares a Fall 2007 opening. If and when it opens, it will be the first supermarket in the Ward since Safeway closed its doors in 1997.

My car was another advantage I had -- without one, those who live in areas lacking local supermarkets have to take expensive cab rides or try to plan around the public transportation schedule. It was the luxury of planning meal ideas instead of planning around public buses -- afforded to me as a young single person with a 9-to-5 -- that set me apart most from those on food stamps. I was able to seek out the absolute best deals available to make sure I would have enough nutritious food. Likewise, I was able to whisk away from a supermarket in town to the Shoppers Food Warehouse in the suburbs. The same time in planning and going to and from supermarkets to save a few cents here and there simply is not an option for the working poor who are taking care of people.

While I anticipated some of my feelings and emotions throughout the week, I didn't quite understand just how big of a mental challenge it would be. As expected, I was tired a lot and hungry some, but more than anything I was worn out by the amount of time and effort I had to put towards thinking about my next meal. I felt defeated knowing a snack or a beverage during the day was no longer an option. I was sluggish and on edge, angry at the street vendor for charging $1 for an iced tea, knowing that it simply wasn't in my budget. The multitude of emotions added up to an all-out obsession with food. I couldn't eat what I wanted but my next meal was still all I could think about. My loss of good food options had somehow caused me to go from eating to live to living to eat. Paradoxically, the decrease in food options and my waning appreciation for the food I ate led to an increase in the amount of time and effort I spent on food and the more I thought about my next meal.

Despite all of the inherent differences between my circumstances on $3 a day and those of so many others, the week was still much harder than I could have imagined. It is clear to me now that so much is required beyond the average food stamp amount -- not just more money to buy nutritious food, but education about good nutrition, access to well-stocked supermarkets (or free delivery of groceries ordered on-line), and so forth. I had my grandmother helping me clip coupons and strategize on what foods to buy, yet still ended up eating a Ramen and grilled cheese diet. Despite all my planning and reading about the failures of other challenge-takers, I still chose iceberg lettuce as my vegetable, without the slightest knowledge about its lack of nutritional value.

By the end of the week, I had internalized a lot of the opinions of anti-hunger advocates in a way I previously could not. I had also stumbled upon a fundraising and awareness campaign that worked. Most of the responses I got from people that I told about my Challenge revolved around a general lack of knowledge about the state of welfare in America. People had no idea that $3 a day was all that the average food stamp recipient received. They didn't know that someone who made $11 an hour working 40 hours a week while taking care of two kids could easily be disqualified from food stamps. They didn't know that the maximum asset level allowed to qualify for food stamps hasn't changed for 25 years, or indexed to future cost-of-living. The people I talked to, though, wanted to know more. Many encouraged me to keep writing entries, giving me hope that people may have learned a thing or two about poverty and food insecurity in America.

Before I sign off, I think I should note that even as I began the Challenge, I wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. I feared it might over-simplify the complex matrix of poverty and come off as a cheap campaign tailored to easy headlines for campaigning politicians. Now, I both loathe the day I try again and look forward to it. It is a powerful reminder that despite America's wealth, many in this country still suffer daily. To potentially incorporate the Food Stamp Challenge into a school curriculum or fundraising strategy could only extend its reach. Personally, though I know that the Challenge is by no means an exact simulation of life on food stamps, it is still the closest I've been in a long time to being in a neighbor's shoes. Next time I try, I'll be sure to ditch the car and walk a mile (or more, as it may be) in those shoes to get my groceries.

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Read Phillip's blog entries chronicling his Food Stamp Challenge experience.