Shutdown Hits Home: The San Diego Families Waiting for Food That May Never Come

EBT card with food basket San Diego Monitor News October 23,2025

by San Diego Monitor News Staff

SAN DIEGO – In the city of sunshine and surf, beneath the palm-shadows of our coastal streets, a different kind of uncertainty is creeping in. For tens of thousands of San Diegans who rely on food-aid cards and monthly benefit uploads, the question is no longer will I get groceries—it’s when. A federal government shutdown has severed the normal funding lifeline for the program that puts food on the table.

In San Diego, the impact of the shutdown lands hardest on Black and Brown families—communities already carrying the weight of economic inequities that stretch back generations. Many of these households are among the working poor, juggling rising rents, childcare costs, and food insecurity even before the federal aid freeze. In neighborhoods from Southeast San Diego to City Heights, CalFresh and EBT benefits are not supplemental—they’re survival. With the shutdown halting those funds, these families face a deeper and faster descent into hardship. Community advocates warn that when Washington shuts down, it’s not the privileged who skip meals—it’s the parents who already stretch every dollar and the children whose nutrition depends on systems now paused by political brinkmanship.

The backbone of the issue lies with the federally-funded nutrition assistance program. The federal government shut down on October 1 because Congress and the White House could not agree on a budget for the next fiscal year. The result: agencies continue only under limited authority, and programs that depend on annual appropriations face a cliff. In layman’s terms: when the money isn’t approved, benefits may stop being paid.

Here in San Diego County, the program known locally as CalFresh is entirely funded by the federal government—even though state and county offices administer it. With federal funds halted pending a congressional resolution, state agencies have quietly been told that November’s benefit uploads are not guaranteed. That means the EBT cards many families count on could show nothing. That “nothing” doesn’t just mean fewer groceries—it means choices: skip one thing, pay for another, borrow, stretch.

Why does this hit here so hard? Because San Diego is not immune to the tangled ripple-effects of this budget stalemate. The region has a large population of active-duty military and federal civilian workers, many of whom may face delayed paychecks. The cost of living is high; the margin for error slim. Non-profits already filled with demand may have to pick up more slack, and they’re not built to replace this kind of systemic gap.

On the national stage, the players are locked. The President has argued the shutdown is leverage to force spending cuts, Republicans in the House have insisted they won’t negotiate until demands on health-care subsidies are dropped, and Senate Democrats have refused to reopen the government without assurances on health policy. The political blame game rages while millions wait. Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Agriculture has warned that without action, the nutrition-assistance program may run out of funds in November.

State leaders are sounding alarms in places like California, where the possibility of missing benefit uploads looms large ahead of the holidays. If November benefits don’t hit, the implications go beyond one stalled payment. It means families may delay rent, skip meals, choose between utilities and groceries. It means local businesses lose the predictable spending of families using benefits. It means the safety net, long taken for granted during the month-end card swipe, is fraying.

The story unfolding here is quieter than the press conferences in Washington, yet no less urgent. Families in San Diego are not reading headlines about the shutdown—they’re checking their card balances and wondering if this will be the first month without the familiar deposit.

Non-profits are bracing, counties are alerting, and the countdown is real. In this community of resilience, neighbors will help neighbors; food banks will stay open; but a missing benefit is harder to replace than a closed door. The government shutdown may be happening miles away in the corridors of power, but its consequence is very close: the empty pantry, the skipped grocery run, the uncertainty at the checkout line. Families who rely on these benefits are being asked to prepare—because policy warfare in Washington may translate into a silent crisis on the kitchen table.