Author: Heather Rudow

When Her Benefits Stopped, the Food Bank Didn’t

September 2, 2026

Three years ago, when Russia invaded Ukraine, Merazka fled with her husband and their two kids to escape the war. They lived near the Russian border, where the sound of bombing rarely let up. 

“The main goal was keep our kids safe,” she says. “It’s the reason why we’re here.” 

The U.S. took her family in on humanitarian parole, a temporary status extended to Ukrainians fleeing the war. Starting over in a country where you don’t know anyone or speak the language is never easy. 

“You start your life with nothing,” Merazka says. And she means it: no money, no stability, no papers to clear them for employment. She and her husband both want to work, but their work permits lapsed months ago, and they’re still waiting on the renewal. 

But she always had somewhere to turn for help. Each week, the community food site at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco sends Merazka home with fresh vegetables, meat, and eggs – enough to cook for four. It’s a place, she says, where “you feel safe, and you can get some food for your family.” 

That kind of security is everything for her. And, last November, amid even more uncertainty and fear, the Food Bank was still there for Merazka and her family. 

The 43-day government shutdown of 2025, the longest in the nation’s history, froze CalFresh for 125,000 people across San Francisco and Marin. Aside from the food bank, Merazka says, CalFresh is “the only way I can eat.”  

The San Francisco-Marin Food Bank moved fast, ramping up distributions and getting 800,000 extra meals to households that would have otherwise gone without. Week after week, St. Gregory was there for Merazka, with extra to go around. 

So much of what happens next is out of her hands. She doesn’t know whether the paperwork will clear, or what the rules will be a year from now. Through all of it, the Food Bank is the one thing she can count on, and that steadiness lets her look ahead. 

 “We focus on what we can do and what we can change, and just make a better life for our kids,” she says. “That’s it.” 

Hunger on this scale isn’t inevitable. It’s a policy choice. Under H.R. 1, the government enacted the largest cut to food assistance in the program’s history, putting CalFresh out of reach for hundreds of thousands of Californians. The Food Bank can’t replace everything that’s being taken away, but we won’t stop showing up.  

Because of your unwavering support, doors like St. Gregory’s stay open for neighbors like Merazka. Your gift this Hunger Action Month means no one in our community faces a November like that one alone. 

One City Day at the Food Bank

July 17, 2026

Eleven-year-old volunteer Merrill Corcoran sorting produce.

Thousands of San Franciscans rolled up their sleeves on Saturday, July 11, for One City Day, a citywide day of service created by Mayor Daniel Lurie and First Lady Becca Prowda. Volunteers spread out across all 11 districts, and about 100 of them came to the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank’s warehouse on Pennsylvania Avenue. 

Chris Padula, the Food Bank’s Chief Philanthropy and Engagement Officer, welcomed the Saturday morning crew. 

“We greatly appreciate Mayor Lurie and First Lady Becca Prowda’s leadership on this citywide day of service,” Padula said. “Volunteerism is critical to our mission. It powers shared responsibility, builds connections between neighbors, and helps ensure people across our community can access the food they need. Days like One City Day remind us that meeting this challenge requires all of us working together.” 

Volunteers power the Food Bank’s entire operation year-round. They sort the produce, pack the bags and staff the pantries. Every week, that work moves food to more than 200 community food sites. 

That work matters right now. New federal rules are pushing thousands of San Franciscans off CalFresh, California’s version of SNAP. When benefits stop, neighbors turn to those sites — and the volunteers who keep them running. 

For P.J. Campmalik, who volunteered with the Junior League of San Francisco, the day reflected a shared commitment to community.  

“We are a group of women trying to empower other women, and part of our mission is to help and volunteer across the city,” Campmalik said. “The Food Bank is important to everybody and helps feed the community through its mission.” 

Brendan Wood came with 15 friends from college. 

 “I have an appreciation for both the scale of the need in our community and what this Food Bank does,” Wood said. “It’s both impressive and sad at the same time that there’s so much need, and that definitely makes me want to help more.” 

Brendan Wood at One City Day

Alexandra Stieglitz sorted citrus alongside an enthusiastic five-year-old.  

“We’ve been explaining to my daughter, sometimes you work for money, and sometimes you work because you want to help people,” Stieglitz said. “And because she’s only five, this helps bring it to life for her in a way that just using words isn’t gonna land.” 

With volunteers recently tackling graffiti in his own neighborhood, eleven-year-old Merrill Corcoran wanted to pass it on, and joined his mother Deirdre and father John, to tackle the need for food. 

“I think [One City Day] is a good idea because it kind of brings people together,” Merrill said. “I think it’s interesting to help people who you don’t know, but you know that they need food. So, you want to help someone get food, even if they can’t get it on their own.” 

Together, volunteers sorted about 45,000 pounds of oranges headed to pantries and participants across San Francisco and Marin. 

“It was a really great day, with people coming out for the first time to support the Food Bank, along with our dedicated Saturday volunteers,” said Katy Mann, Senior Director of Community Engagement at the Food Bank. “There were lots of smiles, laughter and people were grooving to music from the DJ, breaking out some signature dance moves, all while sorting pallets of fresh oranges.”

Neighbors Leading the Way: Celebrating Our Food CARE Council and Peer Navigators

July 13, 2026

Several graduates of the second Food CARE Council cohort

Ending hunger in San Francisco and Marin takes more than distributing food. It takes changing the systems and structures that created the hunger crisis in the first place, and it takes neighbors who have faced hunger helping to lead the way. That is the idea behind the Food Bank’s peer leadership programs, where neighbors turn their own experience into change, some by connecting others to services, others by pushing for policies that can end hunger.  

On a sunny June afternoon in the Welcome Center of our Pennsylvania Avenue warehouse, a gathering was held to honor two graduating cohorts of the Food Bank’s peer leadership programs: the 13  members in the second Food CARE Council and the eight inaugural Peer Navigators.  

Advocacy rooted in experience 

The Food CARE Council brings together neighbors who have experienced hunger firsthand. It’s part of Seeding Change, the Food Bank’s three-year effort to address hunger at its roots. Over a few hours together each month, members learn the ropes of advocacy and public speaking, get a feel for how policy actually gets made and put their own experience to work on the Food Bank’s policy agenda. 

This year’s group leaned into community, opening every meeting with the same simple question: How is everyone doing? 

“This year we focused less on pushing every detail of how a bill becomes law, and more on gathering, talking and sharing what our neighbors are seeing,” said Policy and Advocacy Manager Alex Raffanti, who leads the program. “We found the same issues come up no matter where you live. That’s what brings us together.” 

Members took that shared vision to Sacramento for California Hunger Action Day, where they and some Peer Navigators sat down with their own legislators and wrote postcards for their neighbors. 

When we asked Gianna, a student who relies on Gator Groceries, San Francisco State University’s community food site run in partnership with the Food Bank, what graduation meant to her, she didn’t mention policy at all. 

“It means I found a second family for myself,” she said. “I found my community, and I found what I’m really passionate about, which is ending hunger.” 

Jessica joined the Council after being laid off from a job of 27 years, losing her health insurance the same day. Advocacy, it turned out, came easier than she expected. 

“I would never have gone to Sacramento or written a postcard on my own,” she said. “But the message that came through, over and over, was that your voice matters. Not everybody can speak up. So if you can, you should.” 

Guadalupe and a select group of the inaugural Peer Navigator graduates.

Connecting neighbors to more than food 

The same conviction drives our Peer Navigators. Where the Food CARE Council pushes to change policy, the Peer Navigator program helps open pathways to mobility. Peer Navigators use their own experience to connect neighbors with services beyond food. They help neighbors secure stable housing and connect them to rental assistance workshops. They also guide families through energy assistance applications, easing the burden of utility debt. Job searches, childcare and countless other referrals round out their work, each one specifically tailored to that person’s unique needs. 

“While many resources and services are available, navigating them can feel overwhelming and time-consuming when you’re already facing other challenges,” said Bilingual Community Connections Manager Guadalupe Gonzalez, who leads the program. “Our volunteers have helped bridge that gap by providing compassionate, one-on-one support. They have also supported participants with job searches, connected families to childcare resources.” 

Glenn has served as both a Food CARE Council member and a Peer Navigator. Not long ago, a market visitor stopped to thank him for his support — a referral had helped her land a job. 

“Out of the 150 hours my coworkers and I have spent doing this work, that one hour really paid off,” he said. “We brightened a person’s life, and their family’s life.” 

Two paths to the same goal 

Whether they’re meeting a legislator in Sacramento or a neighbor at the market, these cohorts show what happens when the people motivated to end hunger — either by personal experience or dedication to their community — step forward to do so. We’re so proud of this year’s graduates, and we can’t wait to see where they lead next. 

Speaking Truth, Seeding Change

July 1, 2026

On the way to Sacramento.

It was a rainy and cool April morning in San Francisco, the kind of day that keeps people indoors. But roughly 40 advocates and San Francisco-Marin Food Bank staff went outside anyway, boarding a chartered bus bound for Sacramento and Hunger Action Day, the largest anti-hunger advocacy day in California.  

They came from across the Food Bank: Food CARE Council members, Peer Navigators from our Community Markets, our Policy and Advocacy team and staff members motivated to learn more about the organization’s advocacy efforts. It was our biggest delegation yet. They were headed for the State Capitol at a moment when food access restrictions included last summer’s federal budget cuts to SNAP, known as CalFresh in California, are putting our neighbors’ food benefits at risk. Hunger is a solvable problem, but we can’t food bank our way out of it. We have to advocate to change the policies that create it.  

On the bus, Kayley, a Food CARE Council member, was grinning. “I feel like I’m on a field trip,” she said. “I feel like I’m a kid again. I’m nervous, but I’m excited.”  

Kayley, a Food CARE member who found her voice.

Advocating for Change 

 The Food CARE (Community Advocacy, Resilience, & Equity) Council is our communityled advocacy group, made up of San Francisco and Marin residents who have lived through hunger themselves. They help shape the Food Bank’s annual Policy Priorities Survey, which directly informs our Legislative Priorities.  

Another important aspect is sharing their stories with policymakers, testifying at hearings, and meeting with state and local lawmakers. As someone who’d never spoken publicly for neighbors who grew up food insecure like she did, Kayley started the cohort quiet. 

 “Day one I was super to myself, super shy,” she said. “I believed food is a right, but I never thought I’d be the advocate to go say that to somebody.” 

 Over the next nine months, she and her cohort moved through a curriculum built to turn lived experience into policy expertise: local and state policy foundations, media training, storytelling workshops, mock Advocacy Day meetings, and Hunger Action Day prep. With every session, Kaley grew more confident. By the time the bus pulled into Sacramento, she was ready.  

Annette and Peter, getting ready to advocace.

At the Capitol 

At the Food Bank, we believe food is a human right. That belief is the foundation of Seeding Change, our multi-year policy and advocacy campaign, and Hunger Action Day is one of the moments where it shows up most clearly. Last year, alongside our anti-hunger coalition partners, we helped secure more than $165 million in state funding for school meals, summer food for kids, and Market Match, which doubles CalFresh dollars at farmers markets. This year, the cohort was in Sacramento to push for more.  

The rain was still coming down when the bus pulled into the state capitol. The cohort prevailed anyway, holding five meetings with state senators and assembly members over the course of the day, including a visit to State Senator Scott Wiener’s office.  

“Advocating in person matters so much,” said Alex Raffanti, our Policy and Advocacy Manager. “Every single time you mention a statistic as a food bank person, all they can see is the numbers. They don’t have anything to back that up. When we bring advocates to the Capitol, we’re sharing stories and real people that connect to the stats.”  

Peter, a Peer Navigator at the Western Addition Community Market, was one of those advocates. He and his wife Annette serve neighbors at that same Market together. In Sacramento, Peter carried that experience into legislator meetings. 

 “It’s very important to have lived experience,” he said, “because you can actually feel and talk from the heart. Not just from a storybook or just listening. When you have experienced it, you really know the nuances.”  

Kayley spoke in support of the Count Hunger Act, which the Food Bank helped develop with Assemblymember Catherine Stefani to restore California’s annual data on hunger. 

 “I grew up food insecure,” she told one assemblymember’s office. Referring to the Food Bank’s findings on how many SF county households don’t earn enough to meet their basic needs and the need for reliable data on food insecurity, she shared, “I was [one of the] 1 in 4 in San Francisco. Without measurements, we can’t solve the problem.”  

 By the end of the day, Kayley had walked into a State Senator’s office and told her own story. 

 “I was definitely nervous,” she said, “but getting out there and just speaking my truth, that’s where I felt comfortable. I want to keep doing this. I want to take the next step every day.” 

 That’s what Seeding Change looks like in motion. The Food Bank, our coalition partners, and the neighbors who know hunger best, all at the state capitol, advocating for lasting change. 

Cleaner Miles Ahead: How We’re Driving a Greener Future

June 23, 2026

Come by the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank’s Potrero Hill warehouse early in the morning and you’ll find our delivery trucks loading up with fresh produce, getting ready to fan out across San Francisco and Marin. Lately, a few of them pull away a little more quietly than the rest. They’re electric, and they’re carrying what every other truck in our fleet carries: food for people who are counting on it. 

On June 9, the Food Bank reached an exciting milestone in that shift. We cut the ribbon on two new on-site charging stations, with our electric trucks lined up nearby and San Francisco Mayor Daniel Lurie there to help celebrate. 

This is about much more than cleaner trucks. The food we deliver depends on a healthy planet to grow it, so for us, protecting the environment has always been a part of our mission to end hunger. 

Our resolve held even when the rules changed 

“When the federal government rolled back California’s electric vehicle requirements last year, many fleets dropped their electrification plans, and some even walked away from deposits,” said Barbara Abbott, the Food Bank’s chief supply chain office. “The Food Bank chose to keep going, because cleaner air, quieter streets and a smaller carbon footprint are good for the neighborhoods we serve.” 

A Fleet Going Electric 

Our commitment has been years in the making. The Food Bank placed its first order in February 2024. The first three trucks went into service in summer 2025, two more joined this spring, and today five of our 24 trucks run on electricity. The new stations give us room to keep growing, with the hope that most of our fleet will be electric within the next decade. 

None of it happened overnight. The fleet grew order by order, charger by charger, guided by many teams that believed in where this mission. 

“Getting our electric trucks on the road took a couple of years of research, planning and a lot of teamwork,” said Mike Perry, the Food Bank’s senior director of operations. “With the new charging stations, they power up overnight when it’s easiest on the grid and head out the next morning loaded with groceries for neighbors across San Francisco and Marin. It’s been rewarding to watch this fleet grow, knowing that running cleaner and more efficiently means more of our resources can go toward feeding people.”  

That teamwork extended to an innovative public-private partnership: the Hybrid and Zero-Emission Truck and Bus Voucher Incentive Project (HVIP), the Clean Off-Road Equipment Voucher Incentive Project (CORE), Pacific Gas and Electric Company, Bay Area Air District, HEDCO Foundation, California Air Resources Board and Guarini Legacy Corp. helped make the Food Bank’s EV charging stations, trucks and infrastructure possible. 

And the collective support is already paying off: going electric saves the Food Bank roughly $58,000 a year, and with diesel prices climbing, those savings only grow. 

Step back, though, and the charging stations are just one piece of a much bigger picture, the way that Tanis Crosby, the Food Bank’s executive director, sees it. 

“We center our participants in all of our decisions and that includes a cleaner environment and saving on fuel costs to focus more on our food programs and services,” Crosby said. “From partnering with farmers to bring fresh produce to our communities instead of healthy produce going to waste. From our warehouse solar panels and rescuing good but slightly imperfect food from grocery stores to the ribbon cutting for our electric vehicle charging stations. All of it is part of our commitment to energy savings, supporting the environment and doing what’s best for those we serve.” 

For us, this is one more step toward a greener future for everyone, and we’re excited for all the cleaner miles ahead. 

From Our Shop Floor to the SF LGBT Center’s Table

June 17, 2026

Every week, Jas walks the Food Bank’s Shop Floor at our Pennsylvania Avenue warehouse with a two-tier cart and the same goal in mind: how to make life easier and brighter for the young people they serve at the SF LGBT Center. 

“It feels like I’m grocery shopping,” they say. 

The SF LGBT Center is one of roughly 200 community organizations the Food Bank serves through its Shop Floor. On any given weekday, partners of every kind, from after-school programs to agencies offering congregate meals, come to the warehouse and fill boxes and carts of healthy food for the people who count on them. Nutritious produce is free, and the rest of the groceries are sold at a discount through the Food Bank. Much of it arrives through Fresh Rescue, our program that recovers good food from grocery stores like Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and Safeway — food that would have gone to waste and is instead headed to someone’s kitchen. 

Jas heads straight for the canned tuna and chicken. 

“These are the best thing, especially for our folks who are on the street,” Jas says. “They have these little cap-on tops, so you don’t need a can opener.” 

The young people who come to the Center are between 16 and 24, known as Transitional Age Youth: newly out, newly arrived and often on their own for the first time. 

Many left home — or were pushed out of it. 

“So many queer and trans kids don’t have family,” Jas says. “Once they turn 18, it’s either they leave or they get kicked out. And then you just don’t have anyone teaching you what to do. That’s kind of why we exist.” 

For a lot of those young people in transition, the Center is the first door they walk through in San Francisco, before they’ve sorted out housing, benefits or even an EBT card. 

“When so many of our kids get here, they’re from other states, other counties, other countries,” Jas says. “They’re not set up with EBT or anything yet. So we are one of their only food sources.” 

MJ, 23, knows that path well. They came to San Francisco after a three-day bus ride, with no housing and no contacts. 

The Center moved fast to help. “They helped me get housing,” MJ says. “They helped me get a fare to get around. They got me in touch with the benefits to get medical. They got me in touch with a law firm.” 

The Food Bank kept MJ fed while the Center helped address the root causes of their hardship. 

Today MJ is housed, studying public policy and a member of the Center’s Youth Leadership Committee (YLC), helping unload the same Shop Floor deliveries they once relied on and putting them together for the new arrivals. Doing it brings back what those boxes meant when MJ was the one opening them. 

“With the food boxes, that’s the first time I consistently had fruit in my entire life,” MJ says. 

Even now, MJ lights up over a good find. “I’ll have something from the Food Bank and I’m like, okay, I have to take a photo of this,” they say. 

For Sophia, 21, who fled Texas to avoid homelessness, the Center is the reason she has housing today. She later joined MJ on the YLC, offering the same care she once received. She thinks a lot about what actually helps. 

“For homeless people, grab-and-go meals are the best,” she says. As a disabled person without an oven, she looks for food that doesn’t ask for energy she doesn’t have, the kind of no-cook, resealable items Jas reaches for on the Shop Floor. “A bag of chips can be resealed,” she says. She has cooked noodles in a kettle. 

Jas hears the gratitude in the youth they serve. 

“I’ve heard many, many times from them, ‘I can’t believe you guys have this,'” Jas says. “Or, I haven’t cooked something for myself in so long. I haven’t had a meal in such a long time.” 

MJ has watched it from both sides. The first time someone comes through, they grab as much as they can carry, unsure when there will be more. 

“The next time they come, you see them take less,” MJ says. The fear of scarcity eases. “The next time I come here, I know there will be something,” they say. “I really appreciate that.” 

It all starts on the Shop Floor: the fruit MJ could finally count on, the resealable snacks Sophia keeps on hand, the meals that leave kids in disbelief, each one chosen from a cart by someone like Jas who knows what these kids need. 

This Pride Month, we’re thinking about what it takes to build that kind of safety. Chosen family. A warm meal. A place that lets you be who you are. The young people at the SF LGBT Center found those things in one another, and in people like Jas who show up week after week to make sure no one is left behind. The Food Bank is part of this community, not apart from it, and we’re here for everyone, however they identify. Food is rarely just food. It’s connection, comfort and a sign that someone thought of you, and a reason to honor the resilience of LGBTQ+ youth and the partners who help them feel safe, nourished and seen.

La Tiendita: A New Community Market Opens in the Excelsior

May 14, 2026

Latino Task Force (LTF) Casa de Apoyo started in a neighborhood garage, through the sheer will of the community. Or, as Valerie Tulier, Co-Founder of LTF, put it: it was “born out of a crisis and fueled by love.” 

When COVID hit, it devastated the Excelsior neighborhood of San Francisco.  

“People were sick, scared, and struggling,” Valerie recalled. A group of community activists came together to protect and uplift Latino families and other communities of color in need during this time. Volunteers began handing out groceries, and from there, helping people find legal aid, housing, and educational support.  

“We were handing out food boxes three times a week, serving thousands of families a month,” she said. 

Five years later, that moment in a garage has grown into LTF Casa de Apoyo. And now, with the opening of La Tiendita, a Community Market nestled in LTF Casa de Apoyo and built in partnership with Mission Language and Vocational School and the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank, what started as an emergency response has become a permanent resource for  the community that willed it into being. 

Community Markets are grocery store-like spaces where participants choose the food they want, on a schedule that works for them, and access services that address the root causes of food insecurity. By this summer, the Food Bank plans to have a Community Market in nearly every district across San Francisco. 

La Tiendita serves about 400 households each week and expects to grow to more than 700 over time. Staff and volunteers speak the languages of the community, so families can ask questions and learn about available resources without a language barrier. 

Katia Padilla, Chief Operating Officer of the Latino Task Force, said the team built La Tiendita with the mission of removing the barriers and stigma that can come with seeking support. 

“What we’re doing is making sure people are able to shop for their food and pick up the culturally relevant foods they’re going to take home and cook for their families,” she said. “We want it to feel like home. We want it to feel like this is a safe space.” 

When Elda moved to San Francisco from Guatemala, she needed work, housing and food for herself and her children. She found LTF Casa de Apoyo . She kept coming back, and before long she was volunteering, cooking vegetarian meals and proteins for the other volunteers. “I’ve gained confidence,” she said. “I feel like a true leader. I love this community and want to do everything I can.” 

More than food on the shelves 

Access to good food can open doors to stability. For Agustin Angel Bernabe, Community Market Manager at La Tiendita, that’s why the space goes beyond food. “The first step is making sure that you’re healthy and getting nutrients,” he said. “Beyond that, we see the need of education and resources. Through this expansion, we’ll be able to provide that for our community.” 

Agustin hears it from the people he serves. “They tell us, ‘This program serves cultural food and everyone is always so welcoming,” he recalls. “They say it’s almost like they’re back home, which is so important when they’re far from their home country and feeling homesick.” 

Noriko Lim-Tepper, the Food Bank’s Chief of Strategic Partnership, Advocacy and Voice Officer, called La Tiendita ” a model for San Francisco and a model that people should look towards when serving their community.” At a time when the need is so high, she said, “this is the power of community and is an example of how we can all come together and be there for our families, neighbors and friends.” 

The Food Bank is proud to partner with LTF Casa de Apoyo in helping to bring accessible support under one roof. Food is a human right, and partnerships like this are how we make that real. 

Valerie put it best: “We are celebrating a community market rooted in dignity, choice, and the belief that our families deserve access to healthy, culturally relevant food.” 

Staff Profile: Guadalupe Gonzalez, Bilingual Community Connections Manager

April 22, 2026

Guadalupe Gonzalez is the Bilingual Community Connections Manager at the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank. She leads our Peer Navigation program for Community Markets, a new model of food access the Food Bank is developing together with community partners. Community Markets are grocery store-style sites, open multiple days a week, where participants browse and choose the nutritious, culturally relevant foods that work best for their families. At Food Bank-led markets, Peer Navigators — volunteers with lived experience of food insecurity — help participants find and access local services like housing, employment, utility assistance, and digital literacy support.

“The web of services in San Francisco is so big and accessing them can be daunting,” Guadalupe says. “Having someone who’s been through similar experiences and knows how to navigate these systems can make all the difference.”

Guadalupe knows this challenge because she experienced it first-hand. Born outside Mexico City, she moved to the Bay Area with her family when she was eight. Her mom spoke some English; her dad didn’t. As things got harder and her mom worked longer hours, Guadalupe started filling the gaps. She enrolled her younger sister in after-school programs. She figured out school systems on her own. For a while, people assumed she was her sister’s mother because she was the one showing up to pick her up.

When it came time for college, she was the first in her family to go through the process. By the time her sister applied three years later, Guadalupe could walk her through it. Her sister still thanks her for that.

“The help to get through these systems is often there,” Guadalupe says, “but it can feel inaccessible and overwhelming to find it without support from someone who’s been there before.”

The Peer Navigation program works the same way. Peer Navigators are volunteers recruited from the communities they serve, and Guadalupe helps train and support them so they’re ready to meet participants where they are. After someone finishes shopping at a Community Market, a Peer Navigator can sit down with them, learn what they need, and provide a warm referral — making a phone call, setting up an appointment, or gathering information so a participant can walk into a meeting prepared.

“We already have so many things that are put on us,” Guadalupe says. “Navigating services to help you navigate life should not be the burden.”

Guadalupe got into this work because she spent years as the person in her family who figured out the systems first. Now she’s making sure other people don’t have to do that alone. 

“We make a life by what we give” — Meet Mattie

April 17, 2026

On Wednesday mornings at the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank’s Marin warehouse, Matelina, who goes by Mattie, sorts through pallet boxes of donations, checking expiration dates before anything reaches the shop floor. She’s been volunteering multiple days a week since 2019. 

“[Volunteering at the Food Bank] gives me a purpose to live,” Mattie said. “It’s nice to have a schedule to get up and have a purpose.” 

At 80, retired and widowed, Mattie could be doing anything with her Wednesdays. But purpose isn’t a word she uses lightly; she’s spent her life choosing it. 

She keeps a folded piece of paper in her back pocket — a quote from Winston Churchill: 

“We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.” 

Born in American Samoa, Mattie came to San Francisco at 13 to get an education and supported herself through school with office work and odd jobs. At 18, she was in the audience at a luau when the building caught fire. She was badly burned, spent three years in and out of the hospital, went through 19 surgeries, and lost the use of her hands. But the nurses who cared for her at St. Mary’s Hospital changed the course of her life. 

“That’s what made me want to be a nurse,” she said. 

Mattie regained use of her hands, went on to work as a registered nurse in orthopedics, married a wonderful man, and raised three step kids in Marin. But even in the good years, she remembers the challenges of her journey and how she got there. 

“I’ve never forgotten where I came from,” she said. “So, I just keep giving and giving because it’s very satisfying and meaningful.” 

Mattie found the Food Bank through an ad in a local paper. She started with two days a week. Then added a third, and then, during COVID, a fourth. 

Today she oversees the shop floor on Wednesdays and works the warehouse on Tuesdays and Fridays. There’s a spot on the table the staff calls Mattie’s World. As she sorts through donations, Mattie pulls aside items she thinks would suit a senior or someone living alone, extras to go with the produce, proteins, and groceries the Food Bank distributes. 

“She’s just so integral to everything that we’re doing,” said Randy Rollman, senior warehouse coordinator in Marin. “The leadership, setting a good example for the rest of the volunteers. They’re very meticulous about the way they take care of business up there.” 

On Fridays, Mattie helps pack bags of groceries for homebound seniors who can’t get to a pantry. Each one holds frozen food, vegetables, fruit, rice, pasta, and eggs. 

“When we do the Friday delivery, I don’t see the people,” she said. “We just see the bags and the food.” 

But Mattie knows they’re out there. She packs each bag around 30 pounds heavy, enough to feed a home for a week. 

This April, for Volunteer Appreciation Month, we’re recognizing the people like Mattie who show up week after week to make this work possible. More than 55,000 volunteers a year help us provide fresh food to 44,000 households across San Francisco and Marin.

And Mattie has a message for anyone thinking about joining: 

“We need to have you. We’d love to have you join us. We have a fabulous group of people and you’d really enjoy being with us.” 

Take Action: Support The Count Hunger Act (AB 1734)

April 9, 2026

Every week, food banks across California use data to figure out where hunger is growing and which neighborhoods need more resources. That data shapes how we get food to families in need. When it disappears, the families don’t — we just lose the ability to see them. 

Last October, the federal government eliminated the USDA’s annual Hunger Survey — a critical tool the San Francisco-Marin Food Bank and food banks across the state use to measure and mitigate hunger. Futhermore, funding for the food insecurity screener in the California Health Interview Survey (CHIS) is also in jeopardy due to unstable funding. Without these tools, food banks and policymakers lose sight of who needs help and where. The Count Hunger Act, AB 1734, would restore California’s ability to track where hunger exists, so communities and lawmakers can act on it. 

AB 1734 heads to the Assembly Committee on Higher Education on Wednesday, April 14 at 1:30 PM. If passed by the Legislators and sign by the Governor, AB 1734 would fund the CHIS food screener study conducted by UCLA for a two-year pilot and expand the survey’s measurement of hunger from 200% of the Federal Poverty Level to 400%. In the Bay Area, a family of four earning $128,000 — twice the 200% FPL benchmark — can still struggle to put food on the table — and right now, the state has no reliable way to count them.  

Our Food Bank is nonpartisan, but we advocate for policies and programs aligned with our mission — eliminating hunger and its root causes. We know we can’t address hunger and its root causes without reliable information on where hunger is in our communities. 

Hunger doesn’t go away if you don’t count it. 

Submit a Public Comment 

You can support AB 1734 by submitting a comment through the Assembly’s online portal. You don’t have to wait until April 14 — any time this week works. Phone comments are not accepted. 

Below is a sample letter. Personalize the bracketed fields, copy it, and paste it into the portal. 

Sample Letter (Please place on letterhead)— Copy and Paste into the Portal 

Hello Assemblymember___________, 

My name is ______________ (please insert your title and organization). I’m reaching out to share my support of the Count Hunger Act, AB 1734. This bill relates to restoring funding for the California Health Interview Survey (CHIS) food screener study conducted by UCLA, which is in jeopardy because of unstable funding. AB 1734 would also expand the survey from 200% FPL to 400% FPL to better understand hunger in CA. 

Why this matters: 

In October 2025, the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) discontinued its annual hunger survey, the largest and most consistent dataset on food insecurity in the country, and the backbone of Feeding America’s Map the Meal Gap. The uncertainty of CHIS funding and the discontinuation of the national service will leave a significant gap in data on food insecurity. 

The CHIS study, unique to California, has been a valuable supplement alongside the CPS-FSS. Conducted annually by UCLA’s Center for Health Policy Research, CHIS also measures food security and can reach several Asian and Latine subpopulations that the USDA survey cannot. It also enabled analysis of the relationships between food security and health or social conditions, as well as comparisons of counties and regions within the state. 

This study is vital for addressing hunger based on scope and data-driven information. 

The ask: 

Please support these efforts with an Aye vote! 

Thank you. 

In Community, 

Name Title | Organization 

Public Comment Portal: https://calegislation.lc.ca.gov/Advocates  

Portal Guidance: https://abgt.assembly.ca.gov/hearings 

Questions? Email Marchon Tatmon at mtatmon@sfmfoodbank.org.