Letters from a Chingona - 3
Letter from a Chingona: When a Shutdown Hits Home
This government shutdown is putting millions of Americans in a catastrophic position. For many, it’s not about politics — it’s about survival.
People are being forced to choose between paying rent, buying medication, or putting food on the table for themselves and their families.
I know this reality firsthand. For over 18 years, I worked in low-income housing for seniors and younger disabled residents in West Dallas & Oak Cliff. I’ve helped people complete SNAP applications, Meals on Wheels referrals, and affordable housing recertifications. I’ve seen the frustration, the heartbreak, and the quiet dignity of people trying to make ends meet on incomes that wouldn’t cover a week’s rent in most parts of Dallas today.
I’ll never forget one resident — a woman who had lost her eyesight due to diabetes. When I went to check on her about a late rent payment, she told me she hadn’t eaten in days. She had spent what little money she had on her medication. They struggle sometimes in silence, doing their best to survive in a system that was never built for them.
That day changed me. I helped her through the rent process within policy guidelines, and then I gave her every Lean Cuisine I had in my lunch that week. But that small act wasn’t enough. I went on to start a food pantry at Casa Treviño, which still exists to this day.
Now, through Dallas Legacy Mission and The Last Patrol, we make sure that pantry stays full. We’re still trying to fill the gaps that too many fall through.
In West Dallas, the median household income is only about $32,900 a year. In Oak Cliff, it’s closer to $41,000 — but for seniors, that number can drop to around $25,000. More than 150,000 older adults live in Dallas, and about 12% live below the poverty line. Yet only one-third of eligible seniors receive SNAP benefits. Many rely on Meals on Wheels, which delivers over 1.2 million meals a year in Dallas County — and still can’t reach everyone who needs help.
I’ve seen these programs up close — they are lifelines, not luxuries. When a shutdown halts funding or delays benefits, it doesn’t just pause services; it pushes vulnerable people past their breaking point.
For low-income seniors and younger disabled residents, there’s no safety net beyond these programs. When they lose even a week of assistance, they risk eviction, hunger, or going without medicine.
I write this not as a statistician, but as someone who has seen the faces behind the numbers — people who remind us what compassion and justice are supposed to look like. The human cost of this shutdown is unacceptable.
Now is the time to speak up, to demand protection for our most vulnerable neighbors, and to remind our leaders that “non-essential” does not mean unimportant when it comes to human lives.
With conviction and corazón,
Linda Ramirez
Letters from a Chingona y Chingón
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