
Do these sentences resonate? 👇
- “I’m technically not below the poverty line on paper, but my bank account says otherwise.”
- “My parents think I’m doing great because I make more than they did, but I’m still one emergency away from disaster.”
- “I keep hearing that ‘the poverty rate went down,’ but groceries, rent, and bills all feel like they went up.”
If any of this feels familiar, you’re not imagining it.
For Gen Z and young adults, the cost of living has become the top money stressor worldwide, even for people who don’t show up as “in poverty” on official charts. And poverty disproportionately affects communities of color and historically discriminated groups, which can compound system impacts even more.
National Poverty Awareness Month is a chance to hold both truths at once:
- Poverty and financial hardship have not disappeared.
- And the way we measure economic well-being no longer reflects how many people are actually living.
Let's understand this gap without ranking struggle.

“For Gen Z and young adults, cost of living has become the top money stressor, even for people who don’t show up as ‘in poverty’ on official charts.
What does “poverty” even mean right now?
When we hear the word poverty, it’s often treated like a clear line: either someone is “poor,” or they’re not.
But real life is messier than that.
For the third year in a row, cost of living is the number one concern for Gen Z and millennials, outweighing worries about unemployment, climate change, and even mental health. More than half live paycheck to paycheck, and inflation—especially food and grocery prices—remains the top financial stressor.
At the same time, poverty by official definition remains deeply racialized. Recent data shows that Black, Latinx, Native, disabled, immigrant, and single-parent households are still far more likely to experience deep material hardship due to centuries of discrimination, disinvestment, and policy choices.
So when people feel confused by the numbers, or when things don’t “feel better” even if statistics say they should, that confusion makes sense.
What is the official poverty line and why doesn’t it match lived reality?
In the U.S., the poverty line is a single income threshold the government uses for statistics and some eligibility decisions.
It was created in the 1960s, based largely on food costs at the time. Not housing, healthcare, childcare, education, transportation, or debt.
Today, that line still sits roughly in the mid-$10,000s for a single adult and the mid-$20,000s for a small family, adjusted by household size. Using this measure, the official poverty rate in 2024 was about 10–11%, slightly down from the year before.
But that number is just a snapshot, not a full picture.
It does not capture:
- People just above the line who are one emergency away from crisis
- Regional cost-of-living differences
- Income volatility common among young adults
- The loss of pandemic-era supports
Broader measures show that near-poverty and financial precarity rose for many groups after pandemic supports ended, even when the official poverty rate stayed flat.
And while some people are “above the line,” they may still be:
- Paying half (or more) of their income in rent
- Afraid of a $400 emergency
- Supporting family, children, or siblings on one paycheck
The line is blunt.
Lived experience is not.
Why financial instability feels widespread among young adults
When we focus specifically on young adults, the gap becomes even clearer.
- Data from the Federal Reserve shows that many adults under 35 would struggle to cover an unexpected $400 expense.
- Research from the Urban Institute finds that young adults experience higher income volatility than older adults, especially after pandemic-era protections ended.
- Globally, Gen Z and millennials consistently report feeling less financially secure than previous generations at the same age.
In the U.S., about 73% of adults say they’re doing at least “okay” financially, but that’s down from pre-pandemic levels—and that average hides large disparities.
When race, gender, disability, and education are considered: Black and Latinx adults, women (especially Black and Latina women), and people without a college degree are all less likely to feel financially secure and more likely to struggle with basic expenses.
So when someone looks at their paycheck and wonders, “Why does this still feel so tight?”— it aligns with national data that so many people feel financially unstable (even when a headline says things are improving).
Making sense of different financial realities without ranking struggle
One way to talk about this honestly, without flattening experience, is to name overlapping financial realities:
- Struggling (below the poverty line): Income under the federal threshold, often involving food insecurity, unstable housing, and impossible trade-offs between essentials. Disproportionately affects Black, Latinx, Native, immigrant, disabled people, and single parents.
- Stretched (near-poverty): Technically above the line, but with little to no buffer. One emergency, job loss, or rent increase away from falling under it. Many young adults and families sit here.
- Squeezed (above the poverty line with other nuances): Incomes that look “fine” on paper, but are consumed by housing, childcare, debt, healthcare, and the rising cost of basics—especially in expensive cities.
None of these erase systemic injustice.
None of them negate the reality that some people face deeper harm and fewer choices.
They help explain why economic stress feels so widespread and why simple headlines don’t tell the full story.
National Poverty Awareness Month: naming the gap, not ranking pain
National Poverty Awareness Month isn’t about deciding who “deserves” to struggle.
It’s about naming how policy, racism, and corporate decisions shape all three—and then asking: What’s one lever we can pull from where we are?
Understanding the gap is not the end goal.
It’s the starting point.

“It explains why so many people feel financially unstable even when a headline says things are improving.”
Take a moment to reflect on YOUr situation instead of just your income number. Consider these questions:
- When YOU think about your money, which feels closest: “I can’t cover basics,” “I can cover basics but nothing unexpected,” or “I’m okay but constantly stressed about the future”?
- How have race, immigration status, gender, disability, or being first‑gen shaped what YOU’ve had to figure out about money on your own?
- When YOU look at your budget (even if it’s messy), which category takes up the biggest share: housing, debt, food, family support, something else?
- What stories did YOU grow up hearing about people in poverty or on benefits—and how do those stories affect how YOU feel about seeking help or using resources now?
- If YOU could improve just one area of your financial life in the next 12 months, what would it be: more buffer, less chaos, higher income, lower housing share, or something else?

“The line is blunt. Lived experience is not.”
Click on the dropdowns below to see the easy action items:
Do one of these things TODAY 👇
This month is not about “fixing” poverty with three tips. It’s about micro‑mobility—small moves that give YOU a little more breathing room, inside a system that still needs to change.
- If you identified as struggling: Search for local: food banks, SNAP/WIC info, rental or utility assistance, legal aid, worker centers, community health clinics, free tax prep (like VITA). Many people qualify and never apply because of stigma or confusion.
- If you identified as stretched: Look for credit unions, nonprofit financial coaching, student emergency funds, mutual aid groups, or sliding‑scale therapy/support spaces.
- If you identified as squeezed: Consider joining or donating to mutual aid, sharing resources in your communities, or supporting policy/organizing efforts around wages, housing, or debt relief—and use any employer benefits (HSAs, retirement matches, tuition help) you have access to.
Say one (or all) of these affirmations out loud 👇
- “The system is unfair, and I still deserve tools, support, and options.”
- “My struggles with money are not a personal failure.”
- “I am allowed to seek help, benefits, and community support without shame.”
- “Small moves with my money can still be meaningful in an unfair system.”
- “My worth is not defined by my income, my debt, or my bank balance.”
Channel that feeling 👇
Feeling overwhelmed? You’re not supposed to solve structural inequality alone. One tiny, honest step (like mapping your reality) is enough for today.
Feeling angry? That’s valid. Anger can be fuel for learning your rights, joining others, or voting for policies that actually shift material conditions.
Feeling seen? Share one stat or resource with someone in your world who might need to hear “it’s not just you.”
Some vibes to close us out
As underrepresented young adults, we shouldn’t have to “out‑hustle” broken systems just to have basics.
But while we push for a world where food, water, and housing are guaranteed, we can also learn how to read the landscape, access resources, and choose one mobility move at a time.
YOU got this. 💭✨
Sources
- "Deloitte’s 2024 Gen Z and Millennial Survey finds these generations stay true to their values as they navigate a rapidly changing world." Deloitte (2024).
- "Economic Well-Being of U.S. Households in 2024." US Federal Reserve (2025).
- "The Racial Gap in Poverty Rates in the United States Is Expanding." The Journal of Blacks in Higher Education (2025).

Dig into this topic deeper by signing up for our FREE newsletter.
You'll be able to download the reflection worksheet to put all these actions into one page.
Once you're in, come back to this page and download your new go-to resource.
