Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 31, Number 2, 1 February 2014 — A HELPING HAND FOR OʻAHU'S HOMELESS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A HELPING HAND FOR OʻAHU'S HOMELESS

By Tiffany Hill Destinee Medeiros knows what it's like to have your life change in a day. A Hawaiian mother of five young children, she and her family found themselves homeless last January when Medeiros' husband abandoned them. Medeiros - who did not want to give her real name because of privacy concems - had no job, no, no savings and she was four months pregnant with her fifth child. After a week of living in her car, she knew she needed help. She called the Institute for Human Services, Hawai'i's largest homeless social services nonprofit. "I was lucky," says the 33-year-old. "I was able to get in that night." For four months, Medeiros and her children lived in the IHS women's and family shelter on Ka'a'ahi Street, home to approximately 30 to 40 families, or 130 people. Medeiros took classes on parenting andjob training, got on welfare and opened her own bank

account. Shortly after giving birth, her case manager called with good news: Her application for transitional housing, the next step for 90 percent of families living in emergency shelters, was accepted. They weren't homeless anymore. While Medeiros' story has a happy ending, she's not alone. IHS' dedicated staff finds housing for roughly 80 percent of the families and individuals that walk through one of its two emergency shelters. Even better, six months after leaving IHS, 80 percent of those same housing recipients remain stably housed. From July 2012 to the following June, 2,000 people - many of whom are Native Hawaiian and Micronesian - went from camping

on beaches, living out of their cars and staying in shelters to having homes. For many of 0'ahu's estimated 6,300 homeless, the path to independence starts with a conversation from a friendly, yet tenacious social worker. "It's important for unsheltered homeless to eome into shelters because that is where the resources exist," says Jerry Coffee, IHS' elinieal director. Many people think the IHS shelters - the men's facility is on Sumner Street - are just that, emergency shelters. It's true, both house an average of 350 people nightly and serve around 800 meals daily. But the nonprofit also helps some of 0'ahu's most vulnerable estab-

lish long-term security. The most important goal: finding permanent housing. To get there, staff assist in everything from helping clients get

a state ID for housing and medieal forms, providing basic heahh care and specialist referrals to offering in-house substance abuse programs and classes such as those that Medeiros took. IHS residents are also required to open a Kōkua account, where they put a portion of their available ineome, "so we ean begin to build a nest egg for them," says Coffee, adding that many grow their accounts from government assistance payments. These accounts help with housing placement upon exiting IHS. "When people eome in here, they're a wreck," says Coffee, who has worked at the nonprofit for two years. "It takes a good month to two months for people to catch their breath and organize themselves." Single women and men usually spend three to six months at IHS, he says, while families typically live in the shelter for three to eight months. Case managers strive to match their clients with the housing ophon that will best suit them. For disabled homeless, IHS utilizes the federal Shelter Plus Care, a program that provides ongoing case management and covers 70 percent of rent for five years. "The chronic, disabled homeless are the most visible and the most vulnerable," says Coffee,

adding that they frequently end up in both emergency rooms and in jail. "Placing disabled folks into Shelter Plus Care is a big success."

This past year 55 people were successfully housed because of the program. For Medeiros and her children, it was Weinberg Village in Waimānalo, a transitional housing complex managed by nonprofit Holomua Nā 'Ohana. (It also runs Onemalu, a eomplex in Kalaeloa). For the past eight months, home is now a twobedroom townhouse unit, where Medeiros says she pays $575 in rent. Similar to IHS, she meets regularly with a case manager

and takes parenting andjob skills classes. "We stress to them to not just sit on their 'ōkoles and be proactive," says Weinberg Village program director Holly Holowaeh. Residents ean live in the housing complex for two years, where they pay their rent on time and hopefully heeome employed. "These are the kind of things that a landlord wants," she says. Case managers put residents on the puhlie housing waiting lists, but there are few openings. There are more low-ineome residents than there are housing options available. Both Coffee and Holowaeh are strong advocates for housing programs such as Weinberg Village and Shelter Plus Care. "I've seen the transformation in individuals," says Holowaeh. "It changes the way they think, makes them independent and successful." Medeiros is proof. She says she and her family love Weinberg Village and she's actively job hunting. "I really don't want to be on puhlie assistance any more," she says. "I'mdoing everything for me and my children." ■

Tiffany Hi.ll, afreelance writer, is aformer associate editor o/Honolulu Magazine.

j KAIĀULU ^ > COMMUNITY /

It s important for unsheltered homeless to eome into shelters because that is where the resources exist."

— Jerry Coffee, Institute for Human Services elinieal director

Weinberg Village in Waimānalo, a transitional housing complex where residents ean stay for two years. While there, they pay their rent on time and hopefully find a job. "These are the kind of things that a landlord wants," says Weinberg Village program director Holly Holowaeh. - Courtesy: Weinberg I /illage