For many Black women, the shutdown was more than missed pay - it was a breaking point

After a 40-day standoff that hindered the federal government, lawmakers approached a fragile agreement this week to reopen agencies — which would provide stop gap relief to problems caused by the shutdown.

The shutdown has forced some federal workers to work without pay and furloughed others without pay, while shutting off key safety net programs.

Georgia Republicans largely stuck to the Trump-backed line that Democrats were to blame for the shutdown and that there would be no negotiations on health care or other issues. The lone exception was Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, who criticized Speaker Mike Johnson for canceling votes and said the party wasn’t taking seriously the toll that rising costs are having on everyday people.

The bipartisan deal — reached between Senate Republicans and a small group of Democrats and now headed to the House for a final vote — would temporarily restore government operations, provide back pay for furloughed workers, and halt planned layoffs.

It also guarantees funding for the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, following a Supreme Court ruling that had stalled an earlier order requiring the administration to finance the program in full.

A woman shops for food at MUST Ministries Food Distribution Center, Friday, Oct. 31, 2025, in Marietta. (Mike Stewart/AP)

But even as Congress moved toward a resolution, the damage was already done. And Black women are disproportionately impacted.

Across federal agencies, tens of thousands of employees have gone unpaid or been laid off. President Donald Trump’s broader push to shrink the civil service has deepened those losses, triggering hiring freezes and layoffs in departments long staffed by women — particularly Black women.

Black women make up roughly 12% of the federal workforce — nearly twice their share of the labor force overall. For generations, government service has offered one of the few reliable paths to economic stability and advancement. Now that path is narrowing.

“It’s been stressful,” said T. Platenburg, a 15-year federal employee in Georgia, who asked us to only use her first initial. “We have half the staff, and like anywhere else, we have single parents and young parents with other obligations. Trying to do the same amount of work with half the people is a real challenge.”

The unemployment rate for Black women grew nationwide from 5.8% in June to 6.7% in August.

In Georgia, data released in July from the state’s Department of Labor showed the overall unemployment rate sits at 3.4%, which is below the nation’s average. The rate for Black women in Georgia is higher at 4.5%, but also below the national average.

The risks that Black women face reflect a broader retreat from the equity policies and affirmative-action rules that once opened government doors — reversals unfolding just as corporations scale back their own diversity and inclusion efforts.

“Black women are willing participants in the U.S. labor market,” said Miesha Williams, an associate professor of economics at Spelman College. “Their participation rate is the highest of any group — meaning they’re either working full time, part time or actively seeking work. Because they’re so engaged, they’re also more sensitive to negative shifts like layoffs or policy changes.”

Williams said that because Black women are overrepresented in public service and entry-level administrative positions, their exposure to shutdown-related instability is structural.

“When events like this happen — whether it’s a shutdown, DEI rollbacks or the reduction of government jobs — the group that participates most in the workforce will inevitably feel the pain first,” she said. “It’s not necessarily targeted; it’s proportional.”

In southwest Atlanta, Jas Livas is living that proportional pain in real time.

Livas, 33, earns $18 an hour as a front-office specialist at a physical-therapy clinic. It is enough to keep her family afloat, but never enough to exhale.

Her rent is $1,680 and her car note is $480, plus insurance.

Jas Livas receives $483 a month in SNAP benefits to feed herself and her four children, inlcuding daughter Ava, 6, and son Marley, 3. (Arvin Temkar/AJC)

But at the center of her fear lies SNAP, the nation’s largest anti-hunger safety net, which serves more than 41 million Americans.

In Georgia, Gov. Brian Kemp rejected calls to use part of the state’s $14.6 billion reserve fund to keep food assistance flowing to more than 1.3 million who receive SNAP.

Livas receives $483 a month in SNAP benefits to feed herself and her four children, ages 13, 7, 6 and 3.

If her SNAP benefits are delayed or cut, she said, her budget will collapse overnight.

“Even with food stamps, they don’t last the entire month, so I have to spend more out of pocket for groceries,” she said. “Then there’s gas and utilities. It’s just not enough.”

Each morning, Livas opens her SNAP app, hoping for an update.

“I budget carefully with SNAP, so if that’s gone, I’ll have to take money from another bill to feed my family,” Livas said. “Then other bills will fall behind.”

Livas poses for a portrait outside her parents’ home in Powder Springs on Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025. (Arvin Temkar/AJC)

After years of clawing her way out of debt, she now spends evenings planning meals that feed five people for $10 a day.

She scoffs at the notion that SNAP is for lazy people, particularly Black women.

“My SNAP application required proof of employment — you have to be working,” she said. “I work over 40 hours a week. People act like it’s some luxury, but we’re working hard to not need it anymore.”

Ilham Askia, the president and CEO of Atlanta nonprofit East Lake Foundation, said she is seeing and “hearing in real-time,” stories about families that are rationing food and cutting back on child care services.

The East Lake Foundation, which primarily serves families of color, provides child care, health care, education, food assistance, senior support, rental aid, and financial literacy programs.

Of the 650 families of the East Lake community, Askia said that over 35% are single, female-led households and they are feeling the ripple effects of the federal government shutdown.

“We’re going to constantly see that as people lose their jobs, federal jobs (and) federal contracts,” she said. “It’s just not fair for basic needs to go on the chopping block before all else.”

She explained the lack of early programming can impact an entire generation of children. The lack of resources because of the shutdown, she added, can lead to long-term effects of family anxiety and displacement.

And with the holiday season approaching, the shutdown has further strained resources.

“It’s the holidays, and people are having to choose,” Askia said. “The East Lake Foundation is committed to help supporting (families bridge the financial gap) until this resolves on the federal level. But we know that’s not sustainable.”

“The East Lake Foundation is committed to help supporting (families bridge the financial gap) until this resolves on the federal level. But we know that’s not sustainable,” says East Lake Foundation President and CEO Ilham Askia with a student at the Drew Charter School. (Courtesy of East Lake Foundation)

For Platenburg, the shutdown brings a different kind of strain. As an essential employee, she has been required to report to work each day without pay.

“I don’t typically work for free, but that’s what’s happening now,” she said. Her husband has been covering most of the family’s bills.

Williams said that kind of financial cushion is rare, especially for single-parent households.

“In the short term, it creates real discomfort,” she said. “Over time, those adjustments deepen inequality.”

That cushion, Platenburg acknowledged, is what separates her situation from many of her colleagues.

“The agency I work for is predominantly women, and in my specific office, predominantly women of color,” she said. “A lot of them are single mothers with multiple children. They’re navigating day care, school drop-offs, after-school activities and life still happens. People still get in car accidents, they still get sick. Some have side jobs — doing hair or nails — just to make ends meet. They’re hustling to survive.”

For decades, the federal government has been one of the most stable routes to the middle class for Black Americans. Now that ladder is splintering under the weight of austerity and attrition.

Clouds hover over the MLK Jr. National Historical Park in Atlanta on Wednesday, Oct. 1, 2025. The park is closed due to the government shutdown. (Abbey Cutrer/AJC)

Williams calls that endurance both cultural and economic.

In 2007, during the Great Recession, Williams found herself at a crossroads.

Fresh out of Florida A&M University, she could not find a job. So she went to graduate school.

“Black women will adapt,” she said. “When work dries up, they ‘skill up.’ Some go back to school, others lean on community — churches, food banks, family networks. That’s how we make it work until the market adjusts.

“I truly believe Black women will find a way through this,” she added. “We’ll adjust, adapt and survive.”