Why I No Longer Feel Guilty about the Irony of Owning a MacBook while on Food Stamps
My freshman and sophomore year of college, we had to download virtual machines onto our laptops (think of it as downloading another computer onto the one that’s already there) for all of our programming assignments in computer science. It killed the battery life on my HP Pavilion, and made everything else super slow as a result.
Several times a year, it would break, causing code that I hadn’t uploaded to Github (an online website where you can store code), to be deleted forever. One time, my keyboard stopped working the night an assignment was due; and when I went to my boss sobbing, she leant an external keyboard and mouse to use. Another time, my computer shut off unexpectedly and after being on the line with customer service for 4 hours, they told me to ship it in so they could fix the hardware. I told them I was a student majoring in computer science and asked if they could send me a loaner. They said they couldn’t. I borrowed laptops from a library on campus but I could only do so at 8 hours at a time. One time, I walked to the library at 3am to renew it. After this lasted for a couple days, a sweet girl who I will give my liver to if she ever asks for it, who owned two macs, let me borrow one of hers. All the while, I kept up the same course load and commitments as kids with fully functional laptops.
So when I finally had the means from my software internship to buy a new laptop, I traded out my $300 HP Pavilion for a MacBook Pro, with a touch bar. It was $1,573.79. I texted my friends several times after getting it so they could remind me that I could spend my own money. It was weird. I felt guilty.
When I got back on campus in the fall, I did so with my usual package that contains a lot of financial aid, and also had learned over the summer that I qualify for SNAP, California’s program for low-income families/individuals, and began to receive an EBT card that has money loaded onto it monthly. So, I’d go to Trader Joe’s and buy groceries with my EBT card with my MacBook Pro in my backpack. Was that fair?
Recently, I had someone tell me that I shouldn’t take advantage of a program like SNAP, because I have the means to feed myself without it. Because I wasn’t actually ever going to bed hungry. As the conversation continued, they said that I chose to go to an “elite” school and take out loans rather than going to community college and saving money. And as a result of me choosing to take the more expensive option, I shouldn’t be bailed out and eligible for benefits like EBT. After all, I willingly put myself in that position.
As I wrote this article, I reached out to my best friend who knew the ins and outs of my personal finances about as well as I did. She said she would have described me as food insecure, based off of my finances. Me, with a MacBook, food insecure?
I distinctly remember asking all of my friends that I felt comfortable knowing if I was deserving of the assistance, and all I heard back was a resounding yes. Additionally, most of them would ask me a simple question, “Did you lie on the form?,” I’d respond no, and they’d say that was enough reason. I qualified for the program, therefore I should take advantage of it.
This idea seems so paradoxical, that I, and so many other individuals, question their legitimacy to use assistance programs, while many in the top 1% feel extremely entitled to paying such a slim amount in taxes. Furthermore, this notion that those struggling can’t have nice things is harmful. After reflecting, I believe that I’m not morally wrong for having an EBT card while owning a MacBook and attending an elite University. After all, will I not grow up to pay back into these systems, and help the next girl (who may also happen to own a luxurious laptop and attend a private school) feel more secure in her finances?
To my lower-middle class peers and anyone who has felt it better, this guilt construct and questioning of legitimacy of receiving these programs to those who apply also needs to stop. After all, do we see our upper-middle class peers whose parents fund their education questioning their right to it? Not all your burdens are yours to carry; these programs were created for us to use. Let’s use them.






