At 16, Ivery Winters Jr. knows what it’s like to go to bed hungry. When he was in elementary school, his mom lost her job at Family Dollar. She and Ivery’s dad made sure there was money for field trips. They bought Ivery sneakers so he could still play basketball.
But keeping enough food in the house was a struggle. Sometimes, there was nothing but beans and juice to last a whole day.
Ivery had ways to make sure he got enough. He’d eat as much as he could at school. He’d swallow his pride and ask friends for food. He knew other kids had it easier than he did. But he didn’t like to talk about it. “I never told anybody,” he says. “I kept it to myself.”
Ivery Winters Jr. is 16. He knows how it feels to go to bed hungry. When he was a kid, his mom lost her job. She and Ivery’s dad still had some money. They paid for Ivery to go on field trips. They bought him sneakers so he could play basketball.
But they didn’t always have enough food. Sometimes they had only beans and juice. And that had to last all day.
Ivery found ways to get enough to eat. He’d eat as much as he could at school. He’d swallow his pride and ask friends for food. He knew other kids had more than he did. But he didn’t talk about being hungry. “I kept it to myself,” he says.
Ivery Winters Jr., 16, knows what it’s like to go to bed hungry. When he was in elementary school, his mother lost her job at Family Dollar. She and Ivery’s father made sure there was money for field trips. They also bought Ivery sneakers so that he could keep playing basketball.
But buying enough food for the family was a struggle. Sometimes, there was nothing in the house but beans and juice—and that had to last a whole day.
Ivery found ways to make sure he got enough food: He’d eat as much as possible at school, and he’d swallow his pride and ask friends for food. He knew other kids had it easier than he did, but he didn’t like to talk about it. “I never told anybody,” he recalls. “I kept it to myself.”