BY MARJORIE J. CLAYMAN
Derek Hamilton grew up with a love for basketball, a sport that defined his youth and kept him active. The rhythm of the game, the thrill of a well-executed play—on the court, he felt unstoppable. But life had different plans.
This is Derek before the system tested him. Before the fight for his health. Before he learned just how strong he truly was.
First came the cardiac issues, forcing him to get a pacemaker. Then, six years later, came kidney disease—another battle he hadn’t expected but one he was determined to fight. The very body that once powered him up and down the court was now failing him.
Doctors told him he needed a transplant. He was placed on the list and has been doing everything required—including the daunting task of finding a living donor himself.
While he is officially on the transplant list, Derek has been told that his best chance is to find a living donor—placing the burden of survival largely on his shoulders. The system provides no clear path, leaving patients like him scrambling to secure their own lifelines.
A Healthcare System That Leaves Patients Behind
Derek isn’t alone. Across the country, patients—especially those in marginalized communities—are told the same thing: if you want to live, it’s on you. The average wait time for a kidney transplant in the U.S. is three to five years, but for many Black patients, it’s even longer.
Systemic disparities mean that Black Americans are less likely to receive organ transplants despite being more likely to suffer from kidney disease.
With each passing year, Derek’s frustration grew. He knew he needed to be as healthy as possible to qualify for a transplant, but there was another obstacle: access to food.
The Hunger Crisis That No One Talks About
Derek lives in what some call a food desert, but a more accurate term is food apartheid—a systemic, policy-driven reality where fresh, nutritious food is deliberately inaccessible in certain communities. For a kidney patient, diet is critical. Too much salt, too much potassium, and he risks further damage to his body.
But when grocery store shelves are filled with processed foods and unhealthy options are the cheapest choice, what is a person supposed to do?
Food deserts and benefit cuts: When all that’s left on the shelves is processed food, what choice do struggling families really have?
The situation was bad enough before the latest federal policy changes, but with the current administration freezing benefits and tightening food assistance programs, Derek—like thousands of others—found himself cut off from the one thing keeping him stable. No warning. No transition plan. Just another survival test in a system that’s already failed him.
An Unexpected Lifeline
Community in Action: Volunteers and families gather at a Patricia Ann Cargill Charities (P.A.C.C.) food distribution event, ensuring access to fresh, healthy food for those impacted by benefit freezes and food insecurity.
Enter Donte Cargill, a man whose mother, Patricia, believed no one should go hungry. That belief is now a movement. Since its inception in 2022, Patricia Ann Cargill Charities (P.A.C.C.) has distributed over 372,000 pounds of food, contributed more than 5,670 volunteer hours, and served over 19,400 individuals across Northeast Ohio.
For Donte, this isn’t just about charity—it’s about survival, dignity, and continuing his mother’s legacy of care in the face of growing need. Her home was a place of nourishment—not just for her family but for anyone in need.
Even as she battled stomach cancer, she continued to feed others until she no longer physically could. After her passing, Donte carried her mission forward, founding Patricia Ann Cargill Charities (P.A.C.C.) in 2022 to fight food insecurity.
For Derek, Donte’s work was a lifeline. With food prices soaring and federal benefits frozen, he—like thousands of others—found himself cut off from the one thing keeping him stable. But at P.A.C.C., he gained access to fresh, kidney-friendly food—ingredients that were otherwise out of reach.
Beyond food, P.A.C.C. provided something equally vital: community. It wasn’t just about nourishment; it was about being seen, acknowledged, and supported in a system that too often neglects people like him.
Through P.A.C.C., he gained access to fresh, kidney-friendly food—ingredients that were otherwise out of reach. “I wouldn’t have the strength to talk now if I hadn’t been able to get those healthy foods,” he says. For the first time in years, he had a fighting chance.
But Donte is facing his own battle. The demand for food assistance has skyrocketed, stretching P.A.C.C. to its limits. With more people losing SNAP benefits and struggling to afford basic groceries, the lines outside P.A.C.C. are growing longer. Volunteers are harder to find, and funding is increasingly difficult to secure.
Yet despite these mounting challenges, Donte and his team remain committed. ‘We’re not just handing out food,’ he says. ‘We’re providing hope, education, and a way forward.’ The demand for food assistance is skyrocketing.
Federal cuts have made it harder for nonprofits like his to operate, and as more families lose benefits, the lines at P.A.C.C. grow longer. Volunteers are harder to find, funding is stretched thin, and the burden is falling on community organizations to do what the government will not.
A System in Crisis, A Community Stepping Up
Despite the challenges, Donte continues to fight—just as his mother did. And for Derek, that fight is personal. The support he receives at P.A.C.C. isn’t just about food; it’s about being seen, being acknowledged. It’s about the idea that no one should be left to struggle alone.
“The best way to help me?” Derek says. “Give a kidney if you can. But if you can’t, help P.A.C.C. keep going.”
Donte echoes the call. Volunteers, donations, advocacy—every effort makes a difference. The crisis of food insecurity and healthcare inequity won’t be solved overnight, but through grassroots efforts, lives are being changed.
Derek is still waiting for a kidney. But at least now, he’s not waiting alone.
