Last summer’s passage of H.R.1 threatens to drastically cut SNAP benefits, placing millions of families at risk of food insecurity. These policies directly impact families like Ashley Blair’s, for whom programs like WIC are not just helpful—they are lifelines.

This blog is the second in a series by Ashley, a member of CLASP’s Community Partnership Group and VOICE (Victory Over Injustice Creates Equality). The series examines the importance of food justice and access to essential programs like WIC, and reminds us that everyone deserves the resources they need to thrive. Read her first blog here. 

By Ashley Blair

We are living in a world that is more plant-forward than ever, with a range of products offering a variety of plant-based meat alternatives that give the same flavor and texture as meat by using ingredients made from plants. As a result, many people choose  nutritious plant-based and vegan options  to optimize their health.  Yet at the same time, legislation aimed at restricting what families can purchase with public benefits is affecting families across the country. As lawmakers propose new limits on eligible foods, increasing oversight, and narrowing choice for households, their actions raise a number of questions: how can it be that there are policies that  police what individuals on WIC and SNAP are able to purchase? Why are there very few policies fighting for accessible, nutritious foods across the country—specifically, plant-based foods?

At its core, this tension raises a deeper question: are these policies truly about nutrition, or are they about control? Because when restrictions expand under the banner of “health” but fail to expand access, affordability, and dignity, these policies risk being more hurtful than helpful.

According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, when someone applies for WIC benefits, they undergo a comprehensive nutrition assessment conducted by registered dietitians/registered dietitian nutritionists, though this varies by local agency. Significantly more urban and large agencies use these professionals for nutrition and breastfeeding assessments than small or rural agencies, which are more likely to have nurses conduct the assessment. As a result of the assessment, food packages can be individually tailored to meet participants’ needs, and substitutions, modifications, and/or eliminations can be made to accommodate special dietary needs or cultural and personal preferences. For example, a vegan parent who is breastfeeding may swap peanut butter for eggs, while someone with a peanut butter allergy could receive canned or dry beans instead. On paper, this flexibility suggests autonomy. In practice, however, that autonomy is often limited by rigid decisions that determine which products are actually approved.

From my personal experience in a plant-based, health-conscious household, it has been difficult to get certain plant-based options for my son with WIC. There are some options I’m able to switch out; for instance, instead of buying Juicy Juice, I get additional funds for fruits and vegetables. But there are some items I’m not able to receive. For example, the vegan options for milk and tofu are soy-based, and my household does not consume soy; but at least in Tennessee, where I live, there are no other plant-based options. Likewise, there is no plant-based yogurt option and no canned fish alternative. While WIC state agencies may choose to offer tahini as a seed butter alternative to peanut butter, that flexibility is inconsistent and often unavailable. These gaps send a clear message: participation in public benefits means accepting limited choice.

After doing my own research, I found that the Ripple pea protein milk my son drinks offers a similar nutritional profile to the soy-based milk—both provide eight grams of protein per serving—while Ripple offers more vitamin D, which is essential for healthy growth and development. Yet despite comparable nutrition, purchasing this product requires medical documentation to justify the substitution. This requirement creates an unnecessary burden for participants and may lead to inequitable access to WIC-eligible foods. When families must prove their preferences or cultural practices through paperwork, the policy shifts from support to surveillance.

I believe everyone deserves access to healthy, delicious food, regardless of lifestyle or dietary needs. Families who prioritize minimally processed, plant-based ingredients to nourish body and soul should not face additional barriers simply because they receive public benefits. Accessibility should mean making healthy eating effortless, delivering convenience and affordability without stigma or excessive gatekeeping.

State and federal lawmakers must re-examine the direction of these policies. When drafting legislation that shapes what families can purchase with WIC and SNAP, pause and imagine your own family gathered around the dinner table, enjoying a meal without compromise—without being told your values, culture, or dietary needs are invalid. No family receiving public benefits should be forced to choose between their health, their beliefs, and their groceries.

Public benefit programs were designed to support health and well-being, not control or restrict how families nourish themselves. True food justice means expanding choice, trusting families, and crafting policies that reflect the full diversity of how communities eat, live, and thrive. Anything less undermines the very purpose of these programs.