When Help Runs Out: The Food Gap After Refugee Resettlement

Over the past year, sweeping executive orders have reshaped the United States policy toward refugees: effectively halting new admissions, and leaving long-standing support systems for refugees suppressed or uncertain.

Still, refugees arrive in the United States seeking safety, but many soon face another threat: hunger.

Once on American soil, refugees are eligible to receive cash assistance and medical aid from the Office of Refugee Resettlement, as well as a variety of other social services. This includes temporary access to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) and caseworker assistance. But in reality, many refugees struggle with high living costs, language barriers, limited job opportunities, and getting enough to eat. Food insecurity affects 13% of all U.S. households, but among refugees it can be up to 85%.

Food insecurity is linked to chronic health problems, such as hypertension, diabetes, and obesity, as well as poor diet due to reliance on cheap, processed foods. It also takes a mental toll. Adults who struggle to afford enough to eat, especially those with dependent children, are more likely to experience anxiety and depression, conditions for which refugees are already at higher risk.

In a new study, Nasser Sharareh and colleagues partnered with the International Rescue Committee to interview 36 refugees in Salt Lake City, Utah, in 2025. (Utah is among the states that have taken in the most refugees per capita over the last 10 years, mostly from Afghanistan, Democratic Republic of Congo, and Syria.) Conducted in Arabic, Dari, Kinyarwanda, and English, the interviews explored refugees’ experiences with food access over time. Researchers then analyzed responses to identify the moments when food insecurity peaked.

Ensuring that refugees can consistently access and afford food requires more than short-term aid; it demands systems built for continuity and equity.

Eighty-five percent of the study participants had experienced food insecurity in the last year. They reported food access was especially challenging at four specific points: when they got their first job, when they had to renew SNAP benefits, when caseworker support ended, and when employment or household expenses fluctuated.

For one participant, SNAP ended “as soon as I started working, but my paycheck was not enough yet for rent and food.” Others noted that when it was time to renew benefits, they “received letters in English and did not know what to do, so benefits stopped,” or after caseworker management ended, they were “alone after six months, with no one to ask.”

The study’s findings point to broader structural problems within the U.S. resettlement system rather than isolated individual struggles. Refugees’ reliance on short-term benefits and limited caseworker support is the product of a system that expects a rapid transition to economic self-sufficiency rather than one that fosters long-term stability.

The authors argue that underfunded agencies and restrictive SNAP eligibility lead to predictable periods of food insecurity where interventions could be specific targets. Interviewees cited several solutions to help meet their needs, including extended SNAP eligibility, sustained case management, accessible language services, and gardens to grow food.

Given that the U.S. wastes 30-40% of its food supply, food insecurity is not inevitable; it is a reflection of our policy choices. Ensuring that refugees can consistently access and afford food requires more than short-term aid; it demands systems built for continuity and equity. Strengthening benefits, extending support, and removing language and logistical barriers would help transform resettlement from mere survival to stability.