sharingSOVEREIGNTY
“This place is home. I feel it in my bones.”
I met Jester on a gray, rainy day in Duvall. You wouldn’t think it when you look at her, with her quick smile and engaging laugh, but it’s taken an enormous amount of strength and resilience over the past few years for Jester to be sitting with me in this cafe.
Jester hails from the South, born and raised in a state with limited access to Medicare and disability support for folks like Jester who have navigated not only chronic illness and challenging mental health diagnoses, but domestic violence at home and uncompensated work.
“I was 26, I wasn't allowed to decorate my apartment. I wasn't allowed to pick out certain things to eat. There's like a whole bunch of things that were really controlled, even though I was an adult… my mental and physical health started to tank.”
Jester shared with me that she knew, deep down, that Washington was where she was meant to be. “I knew I needed [to come] because the University of Washington has way more resources, there's Medicaid here, better food: there's so many other things that were so necessary, and the thing is, in my soul, this was a necessary change. Because if you're going to be anywhere, it has to be where you have an opportunity and a chance.”
Jester’s passions are horticulture and crafts. She’s a maker and sharer. She takes great pride in what she can create for herself and hopes to share those talents with others around her.
I’m sure Jester’s sentiment resonates with many of us. We’re raised with the belief that America is where anything is possible, where we can come from any background and achieve independence and stability all on our own. We yearn to create community, to be independent and able to engage in things we love, with people who we love.
“At first I thought I could transfer jobs here,” Jester recounts, but that didn’t work out. Under the stress and fatigue of coercive control both at home and at work, Jester’s physical and mental health were declining rapidly. “I was suffering from severe nightmares and night terrors. Like I was injuring myself because I was so scared. There were so many things going on. I had so many terrible ailments with my body that didn't really have a cure or a known cause, they were just kind of happening.
“My fatigue and my general health had just gotten so bad that it was like I could barely even read because I couldn't process and retain information and I was barely eating.”
Jester tried everything, calling numerous organizations as well as continuing her battle to get on disability support, but she kept getting the same answer: there was nothing for her. Her only option was to leave, and leave quickly.
Jester was brave enough to accept help from her former landlords, the few people in her life who recognized the toll her life was taking on her. They helped her get to Washington, “and the only thing that they asked is that I just pay it forward. It was scary because I had never been shown such kindness, not without a price tag attached to it, or an ulterior motive.”
Jester packed up her car and with the help of her landlord, was able to arrive in Washington. She had enough money for a short stay at a hotel, and from there she dove back into trying to find resources that would help her stabilize and heal. Unfortunately, Jester faced many of the challenges here that she initially faced back home. Being immunocompromised, she had very few options that would be safe and healthy places for her to live, especially during the Covid pandemic.
She recounts the response she got from many of the organizations she first called: “Oh, you have to be able to do this. Oh, you have to be able to work. Oh, you have to be able to do XYZ chores. Oh, you have to go to a shelter. What do you mean you have dietary needs and you’re immune compromised?” None of these options were really on the table for Jester, given her health restrictions and failing health.
Jester’s experience was what many people experiencing housing insecurity and homelessness face: that unless she was able to meet specific criteria, there was little for her. She didn’t give up though, she kept calling and searching, knowing that somewhere out there, there was an option for her.
The reason that I’m sitting here with Jester today is because eventually, on her long list of Seattle resources, she found and contacted Facing Homelessness. Thanks to Karina, our Community Programs Manager, and the generous support of our community over the years, we were able to get Jester connected to an Airbnb that allowed her to slow down, rest, nourish her body and recover. Jester also got connected to resources in her community that supported her physical and mental health.
Nearly eight months after first arriving in Washington, Jester’s chapter of transition and fighting to survive is coming to a wonderful, hopeful conclusion. She is joining our community of BLOCK Residents and finally has her own home that she can decorate to her tastes, and a garden she can grow fresh veggies in, and flowers to sell at farmers markets.
Jester has overcome so much, in part thanks to her incredible resiliency and in part thanks to kind people in her life who saw her fight and reached out to help. If you’re reading this, you may have donated funds to Facing Homelessness that helped build her BLOCK Home, or supported her in getting her Airbnb. And in reading this story, you see part of yourself in Jester, and that you also see your part in the community that rallied to help her.
So much gratitude for all of our community’s love and care,
University District Neighborhood| Clàudia, Phoebe & The Facing Homelessness Team
A QUIET THOUGHT - If you're moved by the goodness of this community, please visit http://www.facinghomelessness.org/ and click on the 'donate' button and consider a "monthly recurring" donation of just $5 in support of the work. THANK YOU!
#JustSayHello #FacingHomelessness #Kindness #theblockproject
