How Snack Closets Provide a Safe Haven for Queer and Trans Youth

As a teenager, I craved that moment more than anything else. It’s 3:10 p.m., when the school bell rings sharp and clear, signaling the end of the day. The large public high school I attended had nearly 4,000 students. For eight hours, we bounced between geometry class and gym class, crashing into each other in a tsunami of hormones that no one would acknowledge or deal with. As we moved, each person’s sweaty anxiety collided with mine, making it difficult to think.

This feeling was further aggravated by the fact that I often experienced the voracious hunger of adolescence, which turned into a series of question marks every hour. Was it almost noon? Did you have enough food in your bag? Will I be penalized if I eat potato chips in class?

But at 3:10 p.m., I was able to escape into a world of my own making. My parents worked full time and my brother was 5 years older than me. Therefore, for most of my high school career, I had time to think alone at home. The moment I walked in the door, my stomach rumbled for quiet and I went straight to the kitchen to make Annie’s macaroni and cheese. It felt like a luxury to boil water and mix pasta with butter, milk, and grated cheese to create a simple but sumptuous feast for one person.

As I ate, I spent hours writing in my journal, connecting the dots between my hunger for sex and my hunger for food, trying to figure out who had made me feel humiliated for wanting either. I asked myself.saw YouTube video of Beth Ditto tearing up the stage Read quotes from Tumblr as the lead singer of Gossip bell hooks writing and live talk Something pinned to the wall.

Little by little, I began to understand who I was. Someone who follows in the footsteps of Ditto and Hooke and builds a life rooted in self-love, radicalism, and a deep sense of collective care. That afternoon ritual was a reminder of how important the context in which we eat, and that having a safe environment to ask questions and explore our desires, is the link between self-acceptance and lifelong feelings of shame. taught me what the difference is.as the law spread throughout the country Targeting queer and trans youthspaces where young people can eat and explore the map of their identity are essential.

To support LGBTQ youth, snack closets have sprung up across the country, operating as places where young people can get their favorite foods for free or without judgement. They are often tied to free “drop-in spaces” where teens can nap or do laundry. From New York’s Harlem neighborhood to Spartanburg, South Carolina, Snack Closet provides much-needed moments of safety, exploration, and rest. This is especially important for unhoused gay and transgender youth. Three times the rate of LGBTQ peers living together.

Unlike community refrigerator,Also, Emerging to address rising food insecurity Across the country, snack closets and drop-in spaces offer a high degree of privacy to their patrons. Teens can just come in, grab a handful of Oreos, and collapse on a nearby couch to take a nap or cry. Or, similar to my own high school experience, kids can use that space to write in their journals or ask questions beyond the prying eyes and ears of adults. Such comfort also distinguishes these snack closets from other spaces such as shelters. They show that it’s okay to relax and get comfortable.

These are some of the organizations addressing food insecurity and providing shelter for LGBTQ youth across the country.

Uplift Outreach Center: Spartanburg, South Carolina

Deb Foreman, who originally worked in the basement of a local church, co-founded Uplift Outreach Center to create a space for her now adult transgender son to grow into adolescence. And her parental impulses are also evident in the snack closet she maintains. Packets of Ritz bits, Oreos and pretzels are carefully packed into plastic boxes. A family-sized box of Takis and Tostitos sits on top. The center’s drop-in space in Spartanburg, South Carolina, also includes a full kitchen where young people can bake, heat up meals or make their own pancakes for the latest popular dinner. Foreman and Jodi Snyder, Uplift’s program director, say snacks are a necessary component of all programs. “Food brings everyone to the party!” Snyder says.

The two have seen how food can help people relax. A few months ago, Snyder decided to host a pleasure-centered workshop after noticing that queer and trans youth were often subjected to sexual health workshops that felt punitive. She invited Belkana Collective, an organization that provides queer and trans-affirming therapy and sexual health education in South Carolina, to teach. At first, the participants were also shy. Sexual health is difficult to discuss for teens, but the stigma and shame that still surrounds queer and transgender sex can make it feel impossible for LGBTQ youth to open up.

But after the kids ate their snacks, Snyder says, “the questions they had always wanted to ask started pouring out of them.” She attributes the change in attitude to food, which makes the workshop feel more like a casual, living room-style conversation. It was very different from the cold, judgmental and consistently inaccurate sex education that too many young people continue to receive in school. Whether it’s sex education or snacks, she said, “we’re here for whatever the kids need.”

Magic City Acceptance Center: Birmingham, Alabama

In the spring of 2022, Alabama will second state in the country Pass a ban on gender-affirming care for minors. In total, Over 20 states It passed a similar ban. “Kids are panicking and feeling overwhelmed,” says Amanda Keller, founding director of Birmingham’s Magic City Acceptance Center. “They no longer know where they can go safely, and they don’t think relief will come in the near future. But they don’t always talk about it while they’re here.” Commitment to Joy , is part of the center’s appeal for the dozens of queer and transgender youth who visit the drop-in space each week.

Originally founded in 2014 as part of Birmingham AIDS Outreach, the organization has since transformed into a youth-centered space offering mental health resources, sexual health classes, and an active snack closet. A home of safety and security for Alabama’s youth.In some cases, that might mean an unhoused youth stopping by to take advantage of the organization’s washer and dryer, or a group of high school students discussing what to wear to the Pride prom ( This year’s theme is “Yeeho Neon”). “We feel great joy when we’re here,” Keller says.

And a lot of that has to do with snacks. Keller and assistant director Lauren Jacobs, a former student in the program, coordinate the center’s workshops, and the conversations are often most frank and engaging when everyone eats together. That’s what it means.

“My favorite thing is when the conversation gets deep and interesting and interesting, and someone comes up and says, “I need more tips!”” Keller says. “It gives us time to rest and focus. It’s the lifeblood of our work.”

Time Out Youth: Charlotte, North Carolina

Sarah Mikhail, executive director of Time Out Youth in Charlotte, North Carolina, likes to refer to her organization’s snack and supplies closet as a “gay Walmart.” There she can find everything her children need for daily life, including potato chips, microwaveable meals, condoms, and full-sized bottles of soap and shampoo. “We want this to be a safe place to land,” she says, referring to the organization’s fluffy couches, games and free snacks. “We’re trying to create our own version of a queer home, a queer family.”

One of its goals is to foster a sense of safety in LGBTQ youth who may not have experienced it before. Mikhail points to the findings of the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network as evidence. In 2021, 81.8% of LGBTQ+ students surveyed reported feeling unsafe at school. “Time Out’s drop-in space may be the only place kids can come all day and feel supported,” she says.

Mikhail is keenly aware of the importance of such spaces. As a former social worker, she emphasizes the impact food insecurity has on teens at a critical stage in their development. “Children can’t function when they’re hungry, and they shouldn’t be expected to,” she says. But many nonprofits don’t focus on food access in their work, Mikhail said, making other services irrelevant. “Some young people are frequently food insecure, which prevents them from accessing things like job training and mental health services,” she says. Lack of access to food can trap young people in a cycle of homelessness and poverty.

Mikhail, the volunteers, and the donors she works with want to keep the snack closet full so young people know that food is always available. The open and accessible nature of the snack closet reduces the anxiety and panic caused by hunger and the long-term damage it does to an individual’s relationship with food, all of which too often remains unaddressed. is.

“We try to remove as many barriers as possible so young people can thrive,” she says. “Everyone fights over noodles. Oh, and Pop-Tarts too!”

Ali Forney Center: Harlem, New York

In many ways, the Ali Forney Center is a blueprint for LGBTQ youth drop-in centers. Tucked away on the second floor of his super-industrial building on West 38th Street, the facility was one of the first drop-in spaces to open in 2012 and is one of the rare centers open 24/7. That’s one. Support Services Director Bill Torres describes these drop-in spaces as “initial touch points where we hope to develop long-term, mutually supportive relationships.”

The food program, known as “Shady Kitchen,” will be led by Jess Tell, the center’s director of culinary programs. In addition to making daily meals, I also make to-go snack bags filled with granola bars, roasted almonds, goldfish crackers, animal crackers, pretzels, applesauce, and turkey and cheese sandwiches. In 2021 alone, the center provided more than 378,000 meals and distributed thousands of snacks.

But meals do more than just nutritionally satisfy young people. “The first place I tell young people about our services is to eat together,” Torres says. This initial offering includes services such as hot showers, clean clothing, and even free health screenings.

But on a deeper level, Torres sees drop-in centers and meal services as a way to provide homeless queer and transgender youth with feelings of joy and comfort that are often denied them.

“It is said that the moments when you eat a snack on the couch or read a book with your parents are some of life’s greatest pleasures, but if you don’t have that luxury, it’s impossible to face the cruelty of this world. “It’s a joy,” he says. So while not a permanent solution, snack closets and drop-in spaces provide the solace that all children deserve to be their fullest possible selves. And that solace may come in the form of Tell’s famous macaroni and cheese or a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. “We’re slowly working our way into vegetables,” Torres says.

colleen hamilton I’m a queer femme writer and editor from the San Francisco Bay Area. She has a particular focus on grassroots activism and youth culture, and is interested in her hopes as a catalyst for social change.
bea hayward I’m an illustrator and comic artist from California. Her work is inspired by the comics she has admired since childhood, children’s books, band art, her shirt designs, the people and world around her, and her imagination. I am.
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