A Place Called Home

Written by Yves Ades, Senior Vice President, Mental Health and HIV/AIDS Services

The word “home” conjures any number of images in our minds. We may imagine the place whose door we open with the keys in our coat pocket, or the place we left each morning and returned to after school, or even, perhaps, the farm in Kansas from which Dorothy Gale was whisked up by the tornado what landed her in Munchkinland. For most of us “home” usually means the place where we feel safe, where we find privacy, where we spend time with those we love and where we go to find refuge from the chaos and stresses of everyday life. Sometimes, however, we have been known to become so possessive and protective about the place we call home, that we have denied others the same cherished comforts and security because we perceived them as an infringement or a threat to our refuge. For most of the twentieth century the American view of “home” and the American right to “home” has also meant the exclusion of many from access to, opportunity for, and participation in, this most valued of American prerogatives.

There was a time, not so long ago, that certain people were confined to psychiatric asylums because they were considered dangerous, disruptive, and incapable of living among us. It is only in the last thirty years that the right to home has been afforded to people with mental illness. While there continue to be pockets of resistance to this notion on the part of many who remain uninformed, advocates and policymakers have encouraged and supported both the ethical and economic soundness of housing and community living for people with psychiatric disorders.

In the late 70′s and early 80′s in NYC, community based housing for people with mental illness was largely confined to Adult Homes and Single Room Occupancy Hotels scattered throughout the five NYC boroughs. As the concept of Supported Housing caught on with a burst of development in the mid 80’s, the real estate boom in NYC brought about an unprecedented increase in homelessness caused by the gentrification of low income housing and neighborhoods catering to welfare hotels. For the residents of those low income apartments, boarding houses, and welfare hotels, there was no place to go. Many landed in psychiatric emergency rooms, jails, shelters and the streets.

In response to this crisis the city and state doubled their efforts and merged resources to create housing for homeless people with mental illness. The 1990 New York/New York Agreement to House Homeless Mentally Ill Individuals was a historic joint effort by the State and City that created 3,615 units of supportive housing and licensed permanent and transitional housing for homeless mentally ill people in New York City. It was the largest housing initiative for homeless mentally ill people in history and, at its peak, had a significant impact on lowering the shelter census.

Most recently, New York/New York III,  signed in 2006, added 5,500 units of housing for homeless people with serious mental illness, including 400 units for families and 200 units for young adults with mental illness transitioning from the child welfare and psychiatric treatment systems.

As a testament to the value and effectiveness of Supportive Housing, in the last thirty years the three N.Y./N.Y agreements have committed to  the development of nearly 11,000 places called home for people with serious mental illness.  At SUS, we work  to ensure that one day, there will be a place called home for everyone that needs one.

The Invisible Homeless

Written by Julia Bader, Resource Development Manager

As you may have seen in the April 8, 2007 Washington Post article, Pearls Before Breakfast:

In a Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007, a man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

The musician played continuously for an hour.  Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace.  The man collected a total of $32.  He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. He was assumed to be homeless.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100. This raises the question: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context, or does the homeless stereotype leave us blind to what is in front of us? What else do we fail to ‘see’ around us?

Here at SUS, we work to help all of our consumers recognize their own individual talents, and to become independent, visible, and contributing members of society.  Many have spent years living on the streets, invisible to the people around them, written off as talentless, worthless, and undeserving because of their homeless status.  Others have been marginalized because of a mental illness or a developmental disability.

If we even notice, or do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…. How many other wonderful people and their talents are we missing?

SUS Is Always Prepared

written by Minjung Park, SUS Grants Manager

I’m sure many of us took “snow days,” worked from home, or left work early to avoid the messes of the recent blizzards this winter. I saw a news piece that talked about how much easier it is to work from home now and how employees at many companies are doing that more and more.

For many of the 1,600 SUS staff, that was not a possibility or even a thought – even though they may have their own children who they need to take care of now that they have a snow day.

From the beginning of the winter season, SUS managers have been meeting to discuss Emergency Procedures for inclement weather. But before every actual blizzard, staff meet again to confirm plans – and walking out of their meeting, people are on their phones to ensure there is coverage at all of our programs.

What would happen to the 600 seniors who need someone to help them get out of bed, cleaned and dressed, and cook breakfast? Or the eight young men with developmental disabilities at one of our 26 developmental disabilities residences, who need supervision and help to plan out their day now that they don’t have school? Or to make sure that the homeless and possibly mentally ill individual who is ready to get off the streets has a clean and safe place, at one of our 17 mental health residences, to lay his head?

These snow storms (really any emergency), disrupt our everyday lives – but we don’t, and can’t, shut down. Snow, transit strikes, electrical outages, etc. will not stop SUS from providing much needed care to thousands of New Yorkers. And from keeping our staff, SUS’ everyday heroes, from doing their job.