I am poor, no different from anyone else in the Section 8 program. We have no problem calling ourselves poor because that’s what we are. The government, however, refers to us as “low income” — perhaps to keep this problem at a distance. But how can distancing yourself from a problem create a solution?

San Jose, please don’t distance yourself. Instead, come closer and let me tell you a story.

I am also a woman with a disability. But I don’t see myself as a victim, nor do I make any apologies for it. I accept my disability and play the cards I was dealt.

Some of these cards include not having a job and having to ask the government for help. I shudder to think what my life would be like without that help.

I am one of the majority of the participants in the Section 8 housing program — the elderly and disabled. The minority are hardworking people who have low-paying jobs. But we stand together as one. We are all intimate with real pain and suffering. And with the budget cuts to the Section 8 program, that is even more so.

Do you know what it’s like to have food insecurities, skipping meals and rationing food? And heat, lovely, lovely heat! I haven’t turned my heat on in three years, and this was before the budget cuts.

The Santa Clara County Housing Authority recently held a meeting for its participants. We are a diverse group, but there was one thing we had in common: We all had that same look of desperation in our eyes. It was the eyes that told the story. It was the eyes that asked, “What’s going to happen to us?”

Mark Emmons of the Mercury News wrote a beautiful piece on what the budget cuts are doing to the poor in the valley. I read it online. Unfortunately I also read some of the snarky comments people wrote.

One of them was, “These people should all move to West Virginia and leave Silicon Valley to the ‘value creators.’ ” I read a few more of the snarky comments and I got a little scared. I thought, “OMG, San Jose hates us!” I wanted to hide under the bed. Then I got a grip on myself and thought this thing through.

It’s easy to make snarky online comments when you’re anonymous. It’s what some people call “keyboard courage.” It’s just an unpleasant thing we have to deal with, like hemorrhoids.

If I could meet Mr. Value Creator face to face, this is what I’d say. “I am a value creator, but not in your narrow definition of the word. I don’t have a job, but I am a contributing member of society. I am a volunteer with the United Way. Our group teaches kindergarteners in East San Jose how to read. If you knew the statistics about what the future holds for someone who can’t read, you would know the value in my work.”

We all know how lucky we are to live in America. America is a feast. “When you give a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you.” (Luke 14: 13-14.) This is not just a Christian sentiment. The world’s wisdom traditions teach this lesson.

So when someone asks, “Why should our society pay for the misfortunes of others?” my answer to them is because that’s what humans do — take care of one another. We are called to lift as we climb. It’s our life code.

Liz Bowen is a San Jose resident. She wrote this for this newspaper.