Wonderful! When a 7-year-old girl asked Caitlin Clark a question that no one dared to answer, everyone was taken aback by her response. A young, brave voice stopped Caitlin Clark’s motivational basketball speech in front of a crowded community hall, saying, “Miss Caitlyn, I’m Hungry.”
Amidst the enthusiastic commotion of an event on a typical day at the Des Moines Community Center, a tiny voice sliced through the room like a sharp blade. Zara Johnson, a 7-year-old girl with braided hair and old sneakers, was staring up at basketball player Caitlin Clark with eyes that were too wise for her age. Zara’s three words, “Miss Caitlyn, I’m hungry,” not only caused the room to fall silent, but they also sparked a significant transformation that exceeded everyone’s expectations for a normal community gathering.
As part of her foundation’s outreach program, Caitlin Clark had come to the center with the intention of discussing basketball and the value of education. She was grinning as she responded to the enthusiastic inquiries of roughly fifty kids after completing her demonstration of shooting techniques. Zara’s question, however, had nothing to do with basketball when she slowly raised her hand from the rear of the group. With her tiny hands fumbling with the hem of her shirt, Zara whispered, “Miss Caitlyn, I don’t have a basketball question. I simply wanted to let you know that I’m hungry.
The simple statement hit the room like a thunderbolt. The other children fell silent; some nodded familiarly, others were confused by a painful reality that adults often try to hide. Caitlin Clark’s heart stopped. This was a brave admission from a 7-year-old about a very basic need; it had nothing to do with school or athletics. “You’re hungry right now, sweetheart?” Clark asked. With tears in her eyes, Zara nodded. Her voice cracked as she whispered, “We skipped breakfast this morning.” “And because Grandma said we had to wait until her check arrived, we only had crackers for dinner yesterday.”
There was utter silence in the room. Every adult’s gaze was on her, and Clark could feel them watching to see how she would react. She got to her feet, her thoughts racing. She pondered how many families in this community were experiencing food insecurity and how many other kids were starving in this room. “Thank you for having the courage to tell me that, Zara,” she said in a steady yet passionate voice. Speaking up was the right thing for you to do.
The WNBA commish has not contacted Caitlin Clark; “Phee said it all.” Then, with her voice getting louder, Clark turned to the audience. She questioned, “How many other children are hungry right now?” Hesitantly, slowly, a dozen tiny hands lifted into the air. The sight hit Clark hard. These were actual children, not just statistics, acknowledging a need that ought never to exist in a wealthy nation like the United States.
”All right,” she said, taking out her phone with a resolve that even she was surprised by. We will make sure that each and every one of you receives a hot meal immediately by calling every restaurant within a 5-mile radius. Not next week, not tomorrow, but now. Delivery drivers brought bags of food from nearby eateries to the community center in less than half an hour, all of which were paid for with Clark’s personal credit card without any consideration for the price.
Clark understood, however, that this was about more than a single meal as she observed the kids eating. It was a systemic issue that needed a systemic fix. Sitting beside the young girl, who was now contentedly munching on a cheeseburger and fries, she said, “Zara, you just taught me something really important.” I learned from you that sometimes the most significant inquiries have nothing to do with basketball.
Over the next few weeks, Clark devoted herself to learning about the extent of child hunger in her neighborhood. She had meetings with school administrators, social workers, and directors of food banks. She discovered that many children in Iowa relied on school meals as their main source of nutrition, that one in six children experienced food insecurity, and that the hardest times for struggling families were on the weekends and during school breaks.
She started the “No Child Hungry Program,” a comprehensive initiative that went well beyond conventional food drives, in collaboration with the Caitlin Clark Foundation. The initiative formed weekend backpack programs that sent food home with kids who were eligible for free school meals, set up permanent food pantries in community centers throughout Iowa, and collaborated with nearby eateries to offer emergency meal vouchers to families in need. The program’s most creative element, however, was what Clark dubbed “Zara’s Challenge,” in which nearby companies promised to provide meals to undernourished kids for each point she scored in a match. In order to establish a clear link between Clark’s on-court performance and food for underprivileged kids, fans could get involved by donating their own money.
No one could have predicted the program’s explosive growth. It raised more than $300,000 in just six months and fed over 100,000 kids in the Midwest. Similar campaigns were started by other athletes in their local communities, sparking a national movement that began with a 7-year-old girl’s bravery in speaking her mind.
When Clark returned to the same community center for the program’s anniversary a year later, it was the most impactful moment. Zara, who is now eight years old and much healthier, was present. As her granddaughter took the microphone, her grandmother grinned proudly. With a stronger, more assured voice, Zara said, “Miss Caitlyn, I want to thank you for listening to me when I was hungry.” But I also want to let you know that because you taught us that it’s acceptable to ask for assistance when we need it, neither my friends nor I are hungry anymore. The room erupted in cheers, but Clark had to suppress her tears as she recognized the full significance of what had begun with just three words from a courageous young girl.
