By November 6, 2025, hunger was in the headlines and on the streets. SNAP benefits had just ended with the government shutdown, and the cupboards were bare for millions of Americans. That night, Ginger’s, Brooklyn’s oldest lesbian bar, hosted an event organized by NYC Queers 4 Food Justice to distribute food, Covid-19 testing, Narcan, tampons and more.
With Ginger’s usual Thursday karaoke night as a backdrop, about 70 bar-goers toured the venue’s back room.
Some came out Lululemon-donated tote bags filled with cans of soup, loaves of bread, jars of peanut butter, packets of menstrual pads sponsored by sexual wellness company LOLA, and bottles of apples, potatoes or greens from a local Hudson Valley farm.
No paper proof of hunger was required. Ginger’s bouncer did not check SNAP benefits or EBT cards at the door. as usual, scanning IDs to ensure participants were at least 21.
The government has since reopened, but the government is being guided food insecurity and financial upheaval remains for many—especially with food-centered gatherings like Thanksgiving, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, and Christmas ahead. This holiday season, LGBTQ+ groups—like NYC Queers 4 Food Justice in New York, Peach City Sapphics in atlanta, the Brave Space Alliance in Chicago and the okra project, that operates nationally—supplying their communities with essential essentials.
An “inspiring” turnout
NYC Queers 4 Food Justice was started by two community-minded New Yorkers, Kadie Radics, 29, and London Dejarnette, 24, in October 2025. In anticipation of federal SNAP cuts, Radics—the director of supportive housing at the mental health nonprofit Fountain House—sought help from queer groups to start a food drive, including lesbian social club Butch Monthly.
Dejarnette, a program coordinator at a nonprofit organization working to end student food insecurity, answered the Radics’ call. They had never met, but within a month, they had planned and planned the first NYC Queers 4 Food Justice event: November 6th at Ginger’s.
“When I walked into that space on Thursday, every tinker or handyman in there was ready to work and just wanted to know what they could do,” Dejarnette recalled.
“The turnout that we had, as well as the turnout of people who went to food pantries for the first time, I think was really telling,” they added. Dejarnette found it “really encouraging to see that these people, who have needed food assistance for a long time [but] they didn’t feel comfortable’ seeking help from a trusted source.
The inaugural NYC Queers 4 Food Justice event at Ginger’s fed dozens of people and raised more than $5,000 in donations, Radics said. On November 19, the group raised more than $1,000 at the Cubbyhole, a lesbian bar in Manhattan’s West Village neighborhood.
“We want our food to get to people who need it most, because the people who need it most are the ones who have been left in the dust by the federal government,” Dejarnette said. “What we ultimately want to do is use that organizing power that queer people have had for generations.”
on the “edge” of starvation
The need for food is growing everywhere in the US
For years affordability crisis has sharpened. The largest federal shutdown in US history chronic food insecurity worsened.
About 42 million Americans depend on monthly SNAP benefits, and the average recipient receives $187 a month, or about $6 per day. The disruption of these electronic payments created a ripple effect that hurt childhood nutrition and student learning, strained family budgets and spoiled shoppers’ groceries.
SNAP “was supposed to be just a supplemental resource, but because we’re so deep in a food emergency, it’s become a lifeline for so many Americans,” said Dejarnette, who directs the college’s food storage and redistribution programs.
THE the government reopened on November 13but some SNAP recipients may need to reapply the program to restore their advantages, further delaying access to food.
Queer communities may feel this pressure more acutely. Research shows that queer adults are more likely from others to experience food insecurity. Across the country, 1 in 4 queer adults between 18 and 44 rely on SNAP benefits to access food.
Socioeconomic gaps are highest in the Midwest, where 35 percent of queer people make less than $24,000 a year. according to the Williams Institute of the University of California, Los Angeles which studies sexual orientation and gender identity law and policy. For non-LGBT people in the region, it’s 24 percent. The income gap between LGBT and non-LGBT residents of the Rocky Mountain states is similar.
Queer people in the South, that is it is home to the largest LGBTQ+ population of any region in the USface higher rates of discrimination, poverty and homelessness. In Georgia, for example, 26 percent of LGBT people are food insecure compared to 17 percent of people who do not identify as queer.
In Atlanta, a group called Peach City Sapphics is trying to highlight the special food needs of queer people in some of Georgia’s biggest cities who are struggling to pay their bills, find housing and transportation.
“Queer people are more quickly pushed aside because the safety net is already thin,” Peach City Sapphics organizer Ciara Peebles said in a written statement to Rewire News Group.
Many members of the Southern LGBTQ+ community don’t have “supportive families,” he explained, so “when the benefits are withdrawn, the consequences are immediate.”
Peach City Sapphics—which hosts not only mutual aid events, but also community book swaps, reality TV viewing parties and craft nights—saw the government shutdown hit its community in Atlanta and Athens hard.
“Food pantries were already stretched, but now demand is steady. People are showing up earlier, lines are longer, and we’re seeing people who never had to ask for help before,” Peebles wrote. “Going into the holidays without those perks has made things that much more difficult — people are literally choosing between groceries, bills and gas. There’s just no cushion anymore.”
Households across the country are making these kinds of difficult decisions. And queer organizations in cities across the country are stepping in to help.
In Chicago, the Brave Space Alliance works with a network of local organizations as part of a Community Resource Dayoffering free clothing, baby essentials, social services and more. And nationally, the Okra Project has launched a series of mutual funds to help black trans people meet their basic needs.
“I felt safe”
Many people who need help may feel uncomfortable asking for or receiving help, including those in the queer community, according to NYC Queers 4 Food Justice.
That’s why having queer food programs with few restrictions — like not asking for ID or requiring online registration ahead of time — is so important, said Dejarnette, who said she grew up on food assistance programs, including SNAP.
“I knew there were food pantries and options like that, but I didn’t think it was for me,” said Pierce Bartman, 24, who juggles multiple jobs, from social media and photography to restaurant work.
“I think part of it is selfishness. Part of it is worrying that someone else needs it more than I do.”
But when Bartman went to Ginger’s in early November, seeing so many familiar faces put them at ease.
“My friends were the ones who gave me the rice and my friends were the ones who organized the event and they were at my favorite bar,” Bartman said. “I felt safe.”
Bartman left with enough food to last the rest of the month.
“We will always take care of each other,” said Radics, of the LGBTQ+ community. “There’s just something about that inherent oppression as a queer person, where we have this shared understanding of love and appreciation.”
