By the time this publishes, I will be in Asia (Vietnam and Hong Kong) on a delightful mix of professional and personal travel. While I'm looking forward to wearing shorts in November and lots of food experiences, I am also ready for a break from the weight of the economic and social complexities of the US. I recognize this as privilege of course.

When people ask me about causes close to my heart my answers circle around a core set of issues that ultimately pick at the scars of poverty. It's so interesting to use that word, because if I'm honest growing up poor I never really identified with that word - not when we couldn't afford telephone service, not when we lived on government cheese, food stamps and food banks and not when we needed to move so often to try to navigate housing costs. It wasn't until I was in my college application process applying for Pell grants did I learn about the poverty line.

Growing up I lived two realities simultaneously - a not uncommon experience for children of divorce.

One experience was the series of contradictions held inside the Evangelical world view of the Regan era. In this world, failed entrepreneurship, government assistance, no health insurance and not paying taxes were all somehow ok as long as you gave your 10% tithe and attended church regularly (read every day).

The second world view was a series of deeply held self reliance values of the working class. A belief that social assistance programs ruined our country, that you give more than you take, and that you earn your own way working hard - REALLY hard. The belief that charity begins at home. This reality had the safety net of generous grandparents who had grown up in the depression and had saved up for a comfortable retirement, stable union employment (with health benefits) and the good fortune of the California real estate appreciation.

In both realities, there was the understanding that small bits of bad luck could unsettle everything. A car or appliance needing repair could (and did) cause material setbacks that were not easily overcome but also - ultimately - I was safe in a world with a safety net.

It is against that backdrop, that I find myself watching this government shutdown and feeling an ache that goes very deep. I hope that we all do what we can to help the poor in our country. Against all the things I did without growing up, I am blessed that I was never hungry. I hurt for every parent right now who might not be able to have their children say the same.

I encourage all of us blessed with food, shelter and health to give generously to your local food banks, generously tip your service workers, volunteer your time and double down on being kind to each other. It matters.

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** Typos and poor grammar either because I'm too lazy to edit properly, or to make you feel confident this was written by a flawed human and not AI generated.