No room at the shelter - so how about an apartment?
Skyway News

May 16, 2005

By Jeremy Stratton

Just one month ago, Will King moved into the only home he's ever called his own. The 20-year-old started sleeping on the streets at age 12. The ensuing eight years have included time in shelters, the drug scene and prison, and aborted attempts at college. When King moved in, he had nothing but a bag of clothes.

Now, home is Elliot Park, where King was the first homeless youth to sign a lease at St. Barnabas Apartments, 906 S. 7th St, a $7.4 million collaboration between affordable housing developer Central Community Housing Trust (CCHT), social services organization YouthLink and numerous funders.

King is serious and a bit guarded as he speaks, but his eyes flash when he talks about the 300-square-foot apartment.

"This is great, absolutely great," he said. "This is home."

The development comes at a time when housing units and emergency shelter beds for homeless youth has dropped; St. Barnabas' 39 apartments nearly double the city's permanent housing units for people age 20 and younger.

St. Barnabas is an example of the "supportive" housing that is a cornerstone of the state's initiative to end, rather than merely manage, homelessness by getting individuals out of shelters and into housing.

First contact

There are certainly more homeless kids than the 33 Minneapolis shelter beds for homeless youth on any given night.

Wilder Foundation Research Scientist Michelle Gerrard said researchers interviewed 167 homeless youths under 21 in Hennepin County during an October 2003 survey. She noted that the true number is probably much higher, since the survey counted only youth who could be found and were willing to talk.

Forty to 50 kids a night can be sheltered in beds reserved for families at Downtown's People Serving People, 614 S. 3rd St. However, family use goes up in the summer, squeezing out youth, said Richard Wayman, who directs StreetWorks, an 11-member nonprofit consortium that does homeless outreach.

Another 20 beds were lost when Avenues for Homeless Youth closed last October, though the North Minneapolis shelter is expected to reopen with 10-12 beds this summer.

"We know we don't have anywhere near the shelter population to support these kids," Hennepin County Commissioner Gail Dorfman said.

The Wilder survey showed half of the state's homeless youth under 21 had been in foster homes. (That number jumps to around 70 percent when correctional and treatment facilities are included.)

At age 18, many teenagers in foster care are cut loose from their parents, often with little or no "discharge plan," Dorfman noted. Some of them end up on the streets.

"The fact that they're now homeless at 18 means we missed an opportunity to address the problem when they were young," Dorfman said. "If we don't address it now, they will be long-term residents in the adult homeless population."

Last stop, home

Homeless youth organizations, such as YouthLink and The Bridge for Runaway Youth, offer case management and outreach services that adult shelters do not, according to Wayman. Those services can be a pipeline from homelessness or shelters to more permanent housing, such as St. Barnabas, which Raffo called "the last stop" for homeless youth.

The apartments differ in layout but are all around 300 square feet. Each has a kitchen and bathroom, closet space and cupboards, and a ceiling fan.

King's new apartment offers things others take for granted: A shower. A bed instead of a mat. Some peace and quiet. A reason to get up in the morning, other than to find a another place to sleep.

A common area, designed by volunteers from the American Society of Interior Designers, includes a kitchen and sitting area and a computer room. Entrance to the project is secure and monitored by staff.

The top floor features 13 apartments for low-income adults, accessed separately from the youth apartments.

More important, the project offers youth not just a roof, but the opportunity - and responsibility - to become self-sufficient adults. St. Barnabas aims to create a realistic life situation, wherein residents will pay 30 percent of their income in rent. Although many household items have been donated, others will have to be paid for out-of-pocket. Residents are expected to work and/or go to school at least 20 hours a week.

"Here, they treat you like people," King said. His Case Manager Zachary Tift plays a key role in that.

"To support them, they have to feel like we're working shoulder to shoulder," Tift said.

Tift's years of experience working with youth have taught him how to relate to homeless youth, who Dorfman said, "are often very distrustful of adults and public systems because their experience with them has not been positive. Part of the work is developing trusting relationships, to have adults for the first time say you're worth something and can be something."

YouthLink's Susan Raffo said the project benefits both the individuals and the community by teaching life skills during a "primary transition period" before youths become chronically homeless adults.

Raffo said that youths in supportive housing generally stay only one or two years.

"They want to be on their own," she said. "They are not here because they want to suck off the system."

"I can do what I actually need to do to better my life," said King. He plans to study sociology and eventually work with at-risk youth himself.

"It would be good [for homeless youth] to have someone to talk to who's been there,' he said. "Because I've been there. I'vebeen there."

Onto the streets

The St. Barnabas solution comes at a late stage in the homeless-to-housing continuum, however. CCHT Program Manager Gina Ciganik said it doesn't alleviate the need for walk-in shelter beds for newly homeless youth.

Almost every day, from noon to midnight, a 25-person StreetWorks team hits the streets to find shelter and offer support for homeless kids, Wayman said.

Few youths currently use adult shelters, where adults can exploit them, Wayman added. He said StreetWorks doesn't refer kids to adult shelters because they are unsafe.

But with so few youth shelter beds, such avoidance poses a dilemma: are kids safer on the streets?

Streetworks assists with what Wayman calls "harm reduction" options. If a trusted relative cannot be found, StreetWorks might provide tokens so youth can ride the bus all night (provided the driver doesn't kick them off). Or they might be given money for a cup of coffee at Hard Times Café on the West Bank, which is open until 5 a.m. As a last resort, Wayman said he directs them to a safe park to (illegally) camp in.

Laura Kadwell, Minnesota's director for ending long-term homelessness, said she's not sure that more emergency beds are needed; rather, individuals who stay too long in existing shelters should move on to long-term housing to make way for those who are truly homeless in the short term.

The recently signed bonding bill includes $12 million for the state's homeless plan (just two years after the Legislature reduced the amount of money that counties use to administer social service programs).

Kadwell said the plan is to spend over $100 million in the next five to six years to triple the amount of supportive housing - from 2,000 to 6,000 units - through collaborative capital projects such as St. Barnabas.

When one considers St. Barnabas' $7.4 million price tag, $12 million statewide might seem small, but there were many hands in the development. The state contributed $830,000 in grants for the project. The rest was raised through loans, grants, and financing from a web of public and private, for-profit and nonprofit entities.

Nearly half the funding came in the form of tax credits through limited partner Enterprise Social Investment Corporation. Allina Hospitals and Clinics donated the $636,000 building, and the Episcopal Diocese of Minnesota, which founded St. Barnabas hospital in 1871, gave $400,000.

There are still apartments available at St. Barnabas. Youth may stop by 906 S. 7th St. or call 253-0630 to apply.