Publisher: Simon & Schuster. A Touchstone Book
Published: 1996
Photographs Copyright © Mary Ellen Mark
Copyright © 1996 by Umbra Editions


Dedication

The messages on the pages that follow are from families and children in need of safe homes. Some lost their homes to fire, others lost their jobs. Too many mothers and children are fleeing their batterers. Many suffer from physical disabilities, HIV/AIDS, mental health problems, and alcohol or substance abuse. They are children, men, women, white, black, Asian, Latino. All in hope of a secure job, an opportunity for independence. All our neighbors.

Look at their faces and hear their voices call for help.

The H.E.L.P. organization dedicates this moving collection to the thousands of homeless families we have served at our residences. Thank you for sharing your personal stories of hope which have become our inspiration and lessons in courage.


Introduction

Today America stands at a crossroads. The path we choose will determine the future of our country, the well-being of our people, and the state of our nation.

For many years, our urban centers have been suffering from persistent social and economic problems, among them racial tension, an aging infrastructure, and the flight to the suburbs. Now these conditions are being aggravated by the new set of challenges presented by the global economy and the information revolution. And computers and faxes now make the suburbs a viable workplace alternative to the nation's cities.

Compounding these problems are the current Congress's efforts to slash funding for mass transit, housing, social services, education, job training, and health care. While these services are important to everyone in America, they are critically important to the poor in their struggle to achieve and maintain self-sufficiency. Ultimately these cuts can only lead to a diminished quality of life for all of us. But they are particularly harsh for those with special needs, who require government assistance to stabilize everyday living. Local governments now shouldering the responsibility for these citizens alone, without federal help, will inevitably be forced to raise taxes even higher. This in turn will hasten the exodus of the middle class and businesses from our cities.

Why are Americans angry at government's inability to solve the problem of dependence? The stark truth is that the political climate reflects a lack of confidence in government's capacity to change things. The current thinking of "the less government the better" is not without cause. The past three decades have seen government promises and resulting programs generate bureaucracy and cost to tax payers with few results and visible differences. Rigid bureaucracy, hierarchical management, and an institutional lack of appreciation for individual responsibility all contribute to failed social policy. The genesis and development of homelessness as a social blight in the United States is a painful example of these factors.

The problem of large-scale homelessness first began to appear in urban areas in the early 1980s. The immediate response, both by government and charitable institutions, was to help the homeless by developing emergency "shelters." That vaunted solution quickly proved misguided. By 1992, New York City was spending more than $200 million per year from its operating budget to deal with homelessness, and nearly $2 billion in government funds had been directed to the problem of New Yorkers without homes. In spite of these efforts, homeless adults continued to inhabit parks, train stations, and other public places. The flow of adults and children into the shelter system continued unabated. Even the cost of a simple cot had reached an unbelievable $18,000 per year.

In the past ten years, church basements, armories, and hotels were converted into little more than expensive holding areas for the homeless. While people received "free" shelter, little assistance was given to them to overcome the underlying problems that caused them to be homeless. In fact, virtually no attention was given to actually analyzing and understanding the factors contributing to homelessness.

While homelessness and poverty had always been with us in one form or another, the 1980s revealed that a new type of homelessness had emerged, and with it a dramatic change in the affected population. This new population, which was growing rapidly, consisted largely of single young men and young women with children. Neither government nor private social service agencies were equipped to respond to this phenomenon.

As the numbers of homeless grew, the public became increasingly aware of the systemic failure to respond to the problem. The expanded use of welfare hotels and armories came to symbolize the inadequacy and inhumanity of the government's response. The plight of the homeless, and particularly of homeless families and children, provoked mounting criticism of the government's efforts.

It was in response to this crisis that Housing Enterprise for the Less Privileged was born. The H.E.L.P. model was designed to help people help themselves, by providing a safe and humane environment that empowered families to stabilize themselves and pursue self-sufficiency. H.E.L.P. recognized that homelessness is most often caused by significant health, social, and economic factors, such as the lack of education, few employment opportunities, substance abuse, and domestic violence.

H.E.L.P. determined that the way to confront these endemic problems was by first directly assessing individual needs. It also provided the opportunity for families to gain independence by making available educational and vocational services and quality day care. The H.E.L.P. model is based on the philosophy that government should not be in the business of developing housing or delivering social services. While government cannot and should not avoid responsibility for funding necessary housing and other social programs, the actual construction and operation of these programs is best left to not-for-profit organizations expert at meeting the needs of disenfranchised populations. As H.E.L.P. enters its tenth year of operation, its success is evident. It is cost effective, and it invests in our greatest resource and asset--our people.

Investing in Americans is indeed the key to confronting homelessness. To this end, President Clinton has introduced an empowerment initiative on a national level that proposes a radically different attack on the problems faced by our nation's poor and distressed communities. The President's approach relies on individual responsibility, community governance, economic opportunity, and public-private sector partnerships. This initiative begins by designating empowerment zones and enterprise communities--targeted areas in cities and rural communities that receive substantial federal resources and tax incentives to implement strategic economic and social community revitalization plans. This socially aggressive yet fiscally conservative program already shows early signs of success. Yet, the skepticism toward government solutions, built up over decades, remains high.

Over the past two years, I have traveled the country extensively. I have found that the American people, living in both urban and rural areas, do want to reach out to those in need and work together to solve our problems. But they are deeply doubtful that either individuals or institutions can actually make a difference. Examples of programs and models that have been proven to work, like H.E.L.P., can deflect this growing cynicism. They can also reaffirm our humanity and faith in one another. Feeling that we are part of a larger community and working together with that community to provide the opportunity for people to improve their lives is an unbeatable combination. It is this kind of cooperation that is crucial in defining the quality of life of the future for all of us.

Andrew Cuomo
September 1995
Washington, D.C.


Preface

During the autumn of 1987 and the winter of 1988, I spent time with children who were described by social workers in Boston as "homeless"; that is to say, whose families had no place they called their own, and consequently had turned to the city and its representatives for whatever assistance was possible. Usually, access to so-called "shelters" was limited; "temporary residence" meant an indeterminate length of time that could stretch from days,to weeks, to months. Meanwhile the hope was that something would happen--a lucky invitation from a relative or a friend to share an apartment, a successful placement in a subsidized housing project, a reluctant agreement of a family member to take in kin, at least for a while. Day after day I heard boys and girls of seven or eight (or younger, or older) talk of their worries and fears, their hopes and yearnings. Each time I talked with those children I also asked them to draw or paint pictures. I asked them to show me and others where they expected to live in the near future, where they now lived, and, of course, where they would like to live, if good luck came their way.

I will always remember some of those drawings and paintings, the trouble those children had in doing what other children can do with ease and pleasure: represent on paper a sturdy, attractive, inviting house, firmly located on land under a sunny, beckoning sky. In contrast, these children of homeless families weren't able to imagine a fate different from their own. They could not conceive of living in a home that is there, solid and reliably secure in the face of time. Again and again I was offered pictures of fragile, ramshackled buildings that didn't quite hold together and that seemed vulnerable, threatened by drenching rains falling from darkly clouded skies or by towering poles or trees that loomed menacingly over loosely attached roofs. These children often put no ground under the houses they drew--their way of indicating how up in the air their lives are, how roofless and uncertain. Gradually, I came to realize how adrift these boys and girls felt, cut off psychologically because of their social or economic situation as the children of homeless parents. One girl observed me noticing the house she had drawn--its slapdash quality, its lack of connection to the natural world (land, grass, trees, sky)--and she read my thoughts. "I was trying to think of a house we could find, and stay there, but I couldn't; so, I just drew that--in a hurry," she volunteered. "When we find a place and we can stay in it, I'll do a better job [at drawing] maybe."

Such an explanation tells so very much. It reminds us that a child of eleven is quite capable of understanding the precariousness of her life, and quite capable, too, of realizing the fall-out such a state of affairs can have.
This young girl intuited that life as an artist cannot easily be separated from life as a member of a homeless family that has no reason to feel hopeful. She was in such a hurry to draw, she took little care as she drew, she was ready to toss the drawing in the wastebasket--because she understood quite well how unsettled and transient her family's life had come to be and how far from any emotional truth her picture therefore was.

Not that the children I met (or the children who appear in the pages that follow) need crayons to express indirectly and symbolically their sense of what homelessness means for them and their families. Many times I heard
boys and girls of elementary school age wonder out loud when they would finally find a bedroom, as one boy put it,
"that won't go away." At seven he had already lived in more places than he could either count or remember. He had already come to expect any place where he currently lived soon to disappear. Employing a child's logic, when he did move into a new apartment with his family he started counting the days, in the hope that he'd amass so many days that he'd be able to stay put. "If we keep living in a place, we might just stay there," he reasoned. "If we stay a hundred days, that's a lot. If we stay two hundred days, that's a sign that we're supposed to stop moving around." I asked him to explain himself--a sign from whom? He hesitated, shook his head, and said he wasn't sure: "Just a sign." But he had been given pause, and he wanted to reflect on his own assumptions. Looking out the window toward a block of apartment houses across the street from the "temporary shelter" where we sat, he spoke again. "The people there [he pointed] don't count the days. They just stay there, as long as they want. I see them coming in and out and I think they're sure as lucky as you can get. Maybe we'll get lucky, too. I count forward and I count backward, and on Sundays, when the week starts, I show my mom what the number is."

At work in this ten-year-old's mind was an attempt--through magic, really--to gain some leverage over a
fate that seemed inscrutable, harsh, relentless and unforgiving. We all have our secret (and not so secret) flirtations with such magic--when we place our bets and conjure up the fantasies we hope will bring us this or that kind of success. This child was playing his own kind of numbers game, letting his mind bargain ingeniously and keeping tabs constantly in hopes that his roulette wheel kind of existence would somehow become a more reliable, fixed, unchanging life.

This is what homelessness ultimately does to children--and to all of us. Putting the mind in a kind of imprisoned jeopardy, it binds the intellectual, emotional, and moral life of a person, so that he or she has less and less
time for ordinary concerns. Just as a hungry person can't stop thinking about food, so someone without a home,
moving from place to place with no roof to take for granted, will keep thinking and wondering and worrying about buildings, places, durations of stay, about permanence or impermanence, about life itself, with its grim reality, its questionable possibilities.

A book such as this is meant to bring its readers closer to the minds and hearts of those who figure in the photographs, and by extension, to the thousands and thousands of others, across this land, who share a similar fate. Here we all are, citizens of the world's richest, strongest nation, alive in the last years of the twentieth century, just a few years short of the third millennium. This moment in time will mark the arrival of a great teacher and healer who came on this earth with message of charity and kindness. Yet, among us are fellow citizens, neighbors (in the spiritual sense of that word) whose needs are painfully obvious, even as all-too-many of us avert our eyes from them. The callousness and moral indifference that the Hebrew prophets decried and that Jesus of Nazareth confronted, are (like the poor) still among us. We can only hope that in a fitting gesture to the fast-approaching year 2000, this nation will prove itself worthy of the Golden Rule that urges us to respond to others as we would want those others to treat us. So doing, so being, we can find a way to look with respect at one another, find ways for those among us living at the very edge, without even the assurance of a roof over their heads, to come closer, and to join the "beloved community" that counts food and shelter as utterly necessary mainstays for every single one of its members.

Robert Coles
August 1995
Cambridge, Massachusetts


About H.E.L.P.

"When I became homeless, I was scared. They could have sent me anywhere. Believe me I prayed. I spent six days in that E.A.U. [Emergency Assistance Unit] office with my children, sleeping there. I told my children that we need to stick together and pray and believe that we are going to get the best. When they found me this place, I knew there was hope. You couldn't ask for better. I told my children when we arrived here that night in February, "Tell me, do you ever doubt God? 'Cause look at this. It's beautiful." There is hope, if you believe."--Milagros Vega

After a careful study in the mid-1980s of national housing initiatives and social policy regarding the homeless, Andrew Cuomo, today Assistant Secretary for Community Planning and Development of H.U.D., proposed an innovative alternative to the inhumane warehousing of homeless individuals and families in welfare hotels and emergency shelters.

In 1986, Andrew Cuomo founded H.E.L.P. (Housing Enterprise for the Less Privileged), creating a model to deliver care for the homeless more effectively and to utilize government resources more efficiently. Its unique platform of public-private partnership made H.E.L.P., after a decade of service, the largest designer and developer of homeless housing and services in the United States. It became the model for New York State's system of supportive, transitional homeless family care. In fact,for the last decade, New York State has been the only state in the nation with a funded system of care for homeless families, and reports only a 5% recidivism rate.

Today H.E.L.P cares for over 1,000 families a day, operating ten family residences that have been recognized with awards for architectural and design excellence. The program was also named a national demonstration model by the United States Congress in 1988. All H.E.L.P. residences are designed to restore dignity to homeless families by replacing shelter living with private apartments and interior and exterior community space. Through creative planning, tight expense control, and designed economies of scale, H.E.L.P. has been able to offer housing with support services at less than seventy percent of New York City's cost to house a family in a welfare hotel.

For homeless families, day-to-day life is a struggle. Today H.E.L.P. is working with cities and states nationwide developing and implementing initiatives to address the needs of a growing number of Americans in need of shelter and human services. There is widespread agreement between private sector, public sector, and human service providers on the effectiveness of H.E.L.P.'s national model of a holistic continuum of care for homeless families with special needs.

H.E.L.P.'s children and parents participate in an independent living program custom designed with site- based professional staff to address their (often multiple) needs. These can include case management, day care, medical care, therapeutic recreational programs, parenting skills classes, mental health counseling, drug and alcohol screening and prevention, teen pregnancy prevention, AIDS awareness, vocational and educational assessment, job training and high school equivalency education, and housing counseling and placement. H.E.L.P. cultivates an extensive network of linkages with local human services providers as well, to ensure ongoing support for families once they reside in permanent homes.

The necessity of providing permanent supported housing for homeless families, along with the great demand for community revitalization, prompted H.E.L.P. to create Genesis, a program of permanent affordable apartments with support services. At Genesis residences, families graduate from transitional facilities and live together with working families, sharing on-site community-based programs including day-care, medical care, and an array of special services developed by Genesis tenants and administered with the assistance of on-site professional staff. Like H.E.L.P.'s facilities, Genesis apartments are architectural and social enhancements to their communities. Both share the mission of empowering families and individuals to lead independent, productive lives by practicing the principle of prevention before intervention and helping individuals help themselves.

As the largest providers of housing and services to homeless families in the United States, H.E.L.P. understands the many complexities of this disenfranchised population. Each year we have seen this group grow, as economic, cultural, social, and political attitudes and policies work against families and individuals. H.E.L.P. has also learned that with wise investment in prevention and education, individuals caught in the cycle of poverty can lead independent, healthy lives. After 10 years of service working with thousands of families who have achieved self-sufficiency, H.E.L.P. remains committed to working together with the public and private sectors to create opportunities to improve the quality of life for those in need.

The following are H.E.L.P.'s current facilities: H.E.L.P. I; H.E.L.P. Bronx; H.E.L.P. PS.I.; Genesis Homes; H.E.L.P. Albany; West H.E.L.P.; H.E.L.P. Suffolk; Genesis Apartments at Union Square; H.E.L.P. Haven; The H.E.L.P. Prenatal Center.


Acknowledgments

This book would not have been possible without the gracious cooperation of H.E.L.P.'s residents who shared their personal stories, and the generous support of Joanne Leonhardt Cassullo and The Dorothea L. Leonhardt Foundation, Inc.

Sincerest appreciation to Mary Ellen Mark, whose brilliant talent and insight captured the true experience of the children and families caught in the cycle of poverty.

H.E.L.P.'s national model of housing and human services for the homeless depends on the leadership and support of many individuals in both the public and private sectors. We would like to thank the following for empowering the homeless to live independently:

Governor Mario M. Cuomo, Mayor Edward Koch, Mayor David D. Dinkins, and Mayor Rudolph Guiliani, Jerry I. Speyer & Tishman Speyer Development, and Alexander Cooper & Cooper, Robertson, Ltd., H.E.L.P. founder Andrew Cuomo, the H.E.L.P. Board of Directors, Advisors, supporters, and volunteers.

Our greatest appreciation goes to the H.E.L.P. staff for their dedication and tireless effort in improving the lives of others, with special acknowledgments to: Marc Altheim, Megan Brewster, Susan Cahill, Lisa Lombardi, Tom Mauro, Jennifer Heller Monness, Richard Motta, Nancy Nunziata, Dennis Power, Vincent Ravaschiere, Jeannette Ruffins, Richard Scantelbury, Fred Shack, Migdalia Soto, Claudia Stepke, Laurie Tucker, and Cynthia Wade.

Maria Cuomo Cole
September 1995
New York, New York


Acknowledgements

Sixty percent of the homeless in America are children. In them I see the anxiety of impermanence. They never feel secure. Their toys and clothes are packed in boxes that get lost or are never opened. The rooms they live in are often barren. This book is dedicated to those children.

I am so grateful to Maria Cuomo Cole and Joanne Leonhardt Cassullo for giving me the very special opportunity to produce this project. I want to thank the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation for their additional generous support of the work. Thank you to Victoria Kohn for her dedication, hard work and excellent reporting. Her genuine interest in the children made them love and trust her and enabled her to collect many of their most profound thoughts. I could not have done these photographs without Victoria. Thank you to all the executive directors and staff of the H.E.L.P. facilities, at Crotona Center, Susan Cahill, Jeanette Ruffins, Migdalia Soto, Richard Scantlebury; at Suffolk, Nancy Nunziata, Laurie Tucker; at Westchester, Dennis Power, Cynthia Wade, Patricia Epps. They believed in the project and gave me total access to their facilities. Most of all I would like to thank the many families that live in the H.E.L.P. shelters for welcoming us into their homes and sharing their lives with us.

Special acknowledgments also go to Martin Bell; Catherine Chermayeff and Nan Richardson/ Umbra Editions; Stefani Cunningham; Michael Darter; Grant Delin; Jeff Hirsch/ Fotocare; Peter Howe; Laurie Kratochvil/ Visa Pour L'Image; Jean Francois Leroy; Mark Morosse; Leslie Nolin/ The Museum of the City of New York; SinarBron; Brian Velenchenko; Anna Wintour/ Vogue Magazine; Sandra Wong; and to Sarah Jenkins, Leslie Yudelson and Jessica Bryan- thank you, as always, for your beautiful prints.

Mary Ellen Mark
September 1995
New York, New York