José eats a free meal at Glide, a Tenderloin nonprofit, almost every day. He’s enrolled in CalFresh, California’s version of SNAP food benefits, but the monthly grocery money isn’t enough. He makes ends meet with help from community organizations like Glide and the St. Anthony Foundation around the corner.
Last Tuesday, cheeseburgers were on the Glide menu, and José, 29, sat on the bench outside, finishing up his lunch.
José, who agreed to talk if he didn’t have to share his last name, said he didn’t know that last year’s Republican omnibus HR 1 bill — what President Donald Trump called the “one big beautiful bill” — is about to make big changes to his CalFresh benefits.
Starting June 1, a large swath of people on CalFresh will have to complete at least 20 hours of work per week to qualify for the funds. The new rule applies to federally-funded SNAP programs (what used to be called food stamps) across the country, including CalFresh. Nearly 107,000 people in San Francisco use the benefits, about 13 percent of city residents.
The work requirements aren’t new, but California has had a waiver since 2008 because of its high unemployment rates. HR 1 has ended that waiver.
Statewide, roughly 660,000 people risk losing benefits, according to the California Legislative Analyst’s Office. San Francisco’s Human Services Agency (HSA) estimates that more than 19,300 people, 18 percent of city recipients, might lose CalFresh access. Advocates say that could be an undercount.
José said “someone from the city” signed him up for CalFresh, but he’s not sure how to reach them. When The Frisc asked if he’s worried about losing benefits, he frowned and said, “Now I am.”
First the immigrants
The effects of HR 1 will be more a steady trickle than a flood.
The first milestone came on April 1, when certain classes of immigrants were kicked off the list. Those without lawful permanent residency (also known as a green card), including refugees, asylees, and those fleeing violence no longer qualify. New applicants will be turned away, and those already enrolled will be rejected when they recertify.
HSA, which administers CalFresh locally, has identified fewer than 100 people in San Francisco under this umbrella, the agency’s deputy director of economic support and self sufficiency Anna Pineda said during an April webinar.
The changes coming June 1 will affect far more people, but “it might take several months” to see the full effect, says Monica Saucedo, senior policy fellow at the California Budget and Policy Center.
The Lurie administration plans to use $34 million from an emergency fund to counter the cuts, according to the SF Standard. The idea is to add 150 HSA staff members to help CalFresh recipients find work and keep their benefits. An HSA spokesperson says the money will pay for the “additional administrative work associated with the work requirements.” (The extra funding also includes help for people at risk of losing Medi-Cal health benefits next year.)
People who are pregnant, have disabilities, have kids under 14, or are over 65 are still exempt from the work requirement. But most able-bodied adults without dependents will face scrutiny.
When current recipients submit their annual re-registration, they’ll have to show their work hours. If they’re short, a clock starts ticking. They’ll have three months to prove they’re working 20 hours per week before losing grocery money. Because of rolling re-registration, Pineda estimates the change will only affect 112 San Franciscans on June 1.
There’s some flexibility about the work: it can be a paid job, a volunteer gig, or training.
HR 1 also expands the pool of people who must work for food benefits to include homeless people, former foster youth, veterans, people with kids 14 and older (previously it was 18 and older), and seniors up to age 64. (The threshold was previously age 54.)
Of the nearly 20 percent of the San Franciscans who risk losing benefits, HSA estimates the majority are in the 94102 zip code, which includes the Tenderloin.
Shifting the burden
The idea behind HR 1 is self-sufficiency: by requiring more people to work for their benefits, more people get jobs, and may eventually stop needing the aid.
But research shows work requirements don’t tend to boost employment. And in places like the Bay Area with particularly high living costs, working people might still need assistance yet no longer qualify.
That’s what happened to Marcus Clayton years ago. “I started working, and I guess I made too much money,” Clayton, 42, says. He’s a security guard, but lost his CalFresh benefits and now relies “on and off” on Glide and St. Anthony’s for hot meals. These options have lower barriers than federal programs and act as a stopgap.
“Just because somebody’s food benefits go away, it doesn’t mean they aren’t hungry anymore,” says St. Anthony’s chief operations officer Laura Flannigan. “They still need food.”
Some community organizations say they’re already seeing higher demand. It’s hard to say with certainty that CalFresh cuts are the cause, but when government benefits get harder to access, there’s always a spike in food lines, staff say. “We’re guessing it’s a combination of things like [CalFresh cuts] and financial pressure from inflation,” says Yves Xavier, food programs director at the Richmond Neighborhood Center, which serves about 1,500 people a week with a pantry and home-delivered groceries.
The organization also helps people enroll in CalFresh, but those requests have all but stopped, says Xavier.
The same is true at the Good Samaritan Family Resource Center on the city’s southeast side. “The food banks, they’re overwhelmed with requests,” says executive director Mario Paz. But “we’re seeing a big drop in public benefit enrollment.”
It’s illegal in California for state and local governments to share CalFresh recipients’ immigrant status with federal agencies, but people on the front lines say Trump’s immigration crackdown is discouraging applicants. “People just go quiet” even if they are legal immigrants, says Xavier. “They don’t apply for programs that would likely benefit them because of fear.” He emphasized that there could be other factors as well.
(A spokesperson for the SF-Marin Food Bank, the city’s largest provider, responded to The Frisc’s request for an interview with an apology: “We just don’t have the bandwidth.”)
Along with tighter rules, the high costs of gas, rent, and other goods put more people at risk of homelessness, says Paz: “If you have to make the choice between buying food and paying rent, you’re probably going with food.”
The federal cuts are part of a larger playbook to force more costs upon state and county governments, and by extension nonprofits. San Francisco’s CalFresh bill will rise $26 million this October, when the feds push off more of the program’s administrative costs. The following year, another shift will add $36 million more to SF’s budget.
The city’s current budget is about $16 billion. The next one must be in place this summer. While the projected two-year $643 million deficit is an improvement over previous estimates, Mayor Daniel Lurie is proposing $400 million in cuts and hundreds of layoffs; his official budget is due by June 1, with tense negotiations to follow.
What’s the city’s plan?
José won’t be the only CalFresh recipient in San Francisco blindsided by the work rules. HSA has spent more than a year doing outreach to nonprofit contractors and community members, according to a spokesperson. Last month the agency’s Pineda asked partners to encourage clients to register online for easier recertification. But 70 percent of SF recipients still rely on snail mail, phone calls, and in-person visits to get their benefit information. It’s possible that the extra $34 million from City Hall will help with the outreach.
The city is also trying to help people with job placement, training, and volunteer services, all of which count toward the HR 1 requirement. It’s unclear how much volunteer capacity there is in San Francisco. St. Anthony’s has room for more, says COO Flannigan, but the Richmond Neighborhood Center says it’s full up.
Anticipating local budget cuts, nonprofits are revisiting strategies like referring clients to each other when they run out of meals or groceries. When CalFresh benefits lapsed during last October’s federal government shutdown, the SF-Marin Food Bank had just wound down its Covid-era pop-up pantries and was caught short by the sudden demand. The organization redirected people to other pantries; the Richmond Neighborhood Center says it absorbed about 500 of the Food Bank’s clients.
The shutdown also spurred local foundation Crankstart to cut SF an $18 million check to feed everyone in San Francisco on the benefits. When asked if the organization can help again, a representative said they’re “not prepared right now to discuss any continued efforts.”
According to Saucedo of the California Budget and Policy Center, a longer-term solution lies with the state, which runs a food-benefit program for immigrants who don’t qualify for CalFresh. The California Food Assistance Program, or CFAP, will expand to a more general population in 2027, says Saucedo. Funding for the expensive increase is in the works, she says, “and that gives me hope.”
