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You know, before you can thrive, you have to survive. And for so many years of my life, it was all I could do just to stay safe.
I experienced several types of trauma as a young person. By the time I was 16 years old, I was clinging to the only coping mechanism anyone had ever offered me: drugs. Instead of college, I went to prison. The vicious cycle of substance use, incarceration, and homelessness had begun for me.
I started using drugs because of the trauma I had experienced in my life. I then ended up in prison because of using substances, and being a drug addict. And because I had gone to prison, there was no place for me in the outside world where I felt accepted, except on the streets.
I found myself in this cycle.
Being homeless is a very scary and traumatizing experience. And when you're caught in that cycle, in this loop, it doesn't feel like there's any exits, like there's any way out–until you find one.
They say that things begin and end at home, but for me, home has always been a really complicated concept. Growing up, I had a house, but I experienced trauma, insecurity, and abandonment there. Home could sometimes feel scary. And being biracial meant I didn’t feel at home or accepted in my community, either.
My experience of homelessness–outside homelessness–began at about the same time as I became a mother–first of one, and then another child. I was practically just a young adult myself in those days. It was terrifying to have nowhere safe to go or to sleep, or anything to eat. But it’s so much worse when you have two children you’re trying to look out for, who look to you. Two girls who should have had a home–need a home, but you can’t give it to them.
They say that things begin and end at home, but for me, home has always been a really complicated concept. Growing up, I had a house, but I experienced trauma, insecurity, and abandonment there. Home could sometimes feel scary. And being biracial meant I didn’t feel at home or accepted in my community, either.
My experience of homelessness–outside homelessness–began at about the same time as I became a mother–first of one, and then another child. I was practically just a young adult myself in those days. It was terrifying to have nowhere safe to go or to sleep, or anything to eat. But it’s so much worse when you have two children you’re trying to look out for, who look to you. Two girls who should have had a home–need a home, but you can’t give it to them.
You know, before you can thrive, you have to survive. And for so many years of my life, it was all I could do just to stay safe.
I experienced several types of trauma as a young person. By the time I was 16 years old, I was clinging to the only coping mechanism anyone had ever offered me: drugs. Instead of college, I went to prison. The vicious cycle of substance use, incarceration, and homelessness had begun for me.
I started using drugs because of the trauma I had experienced in my life. I then ended up in prison because of using substances, and being a drug addict. And because I had gone to prison, there was no place for me in the outside world where I felt accepted, except on the streets.
I found myself in this cycle.
Being homeless is a very scary and traumatizing experience. And when you're caught in that cycle, in this loop, it doesn't feel like there's any exits, like there's any way out–until you find one.
They say that things begin and end at home, but for me, home has always been a really complicated concept. Growing up, I had a house, but I experienced trauma, insecurity, and abandonment there. Home could sometimes feel scary. And being biracial meant I didn’t feel at home or accepted in my community, either.
My experience of homelessness–outside homelessness–began at about the same time as I became a mother–first of one, and then another child. I was practically just a young adult myself in those days. It was terrifying to have nowhere safe to go or to sleep, or anything to eat. But it’s so much worse when you have two children you’re trying to look out for, who look to you. Two girls who should have had a home–need a home, but you can’t give it to them.
We like to think of ourselves as individuals as just one. But the truth is, we're all members of the communities around us. In our cities, in our neighborhoods, for better or for worse.
For 10 years, the only community I had was made of a people living in the same realities as me– the same situations as me. People were dealing with substance use, deeply involved in the justice system, and being and living a life unhoused. The Delancey Street Foundation was my first invitation to become part of a new, healthy community. They provided the acceptance, support, and they guided me. I needed that to find a new place for myself a new purpose. The relationships I formed there, gave me eyes to see myself in a new way, and begin to face the future, my future. After only feeling shame around all of my past experiences, they helped me believe in what my life could become.
We fall down and we get up again, as members of communities. Homelessness is one of the failures of our society. But providing resources and support, like I received, proves what can be when we invest in these things as a community, and we believe that positive change is possible as a wider society. And now here we are, talking with one another in a coffee shop. Connection and community are beautiful things.
We like to think of ourselves as individuals as just one. But the truth is, we're all members of the communities around us. In our cities, in our neighborhoods, for better or for worse.
For 10 years, the only community I had was made of a people living in the same realities as me– the same situations as me. People were dealing with substance use, deeply involved in the justice system, and being and living a life unhoused. The Delancey Street Foundation was my first invitation to become part of a new, healthy community. They provided the acceptance, support, and they guided me. I needed that to find a new place for myself a new purpose. The relationships I formed there, gave me eyes to see myself in a new way, and begin to face the future, my future. After only feeling shame around all of my past experiences, they helped me believe in what my life could become.
We fall down and we get up again, as members of communities. Homelessness is one of the failures of our society. But providing resources and support, like I received, proves what can be when we invest in these things as a community, and we believe that positive change is possible as a wider society. And now here we are, talking with one another in a coffee shop. Connection and community are beautiful things.
They say that things begin and end at home, but for me, home has always been a really complicated concept. Growing up, I had a house, but I experienced trauma, insecurity, and abandonment there. Home could sometimes feel scary. And being biracial meant I didn’t feel at home or accepted in my community, either.
My experience of homelessness–outside homelessness–began at about the same time as I became a mother–first of one, and then another child. I was practically just a young adult myself in those days. It was terrifying to have nowhere safe to go or to sleep, or anything to eat. But it’s so much worse when you have two children you’re trying to look out for, who look to you. Two girls who should have had a home–need a home, but you can’t give it to them.
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