When the welfare system went electric, and the county stopped issuing food stamps, I did a victory dance. I would no longer have to feel that heavy, dark dread while rolling up to the cashier in a grocery store with my mom. I would no longer have to pretend to “go browse” at the magazines when I spotted someone from school while checking out. Or feel that deep, dense self-loathing when the person behind us rolled their eyes as Mom pulled out her stash of colorful food coupons. The county was issuing everyone on food stamps a card and it looked just like a debit card. Now no one at the grocery store--except for the cashier--would know that I was poor.