“Caregiving” Sheds Light on Compassionate Care
By Molly Balison and Jodi Peterson-Stigers
It’s a quote that underscores a universal truth: from birth to death, care touches all our lives. For every person aging with dignity, recovering from illness, or living with a disability, there is often a caregiver unseen but essential quietly holding it all together. Often unpaid and under-supported, caregivers navigate profound responsibility, emotional weight, and financial strain.
On Monday, August 26, this hidden world will come into the light during a special community screening of the PBS documentary Caregiving at The Flicks in Boise, hosted by Idaho Public Television. The event promises not only to elevate the voices of caregivers but to spark important conversations about the future of care in Idaho and across the country.
Directed by Bradley Cooper and narrated by Uzo Aduba, Caregiving weaves together powerful stories of Americans who dedicate their lives to caring for others. Cooper’s involvement in the project stems from his personal experience caring for his father during his terminal illness, an act he describes as both transformative and traumatic. His documentary captures the heartbreak, humanity, and resilience of caregivers who shoulder unimaginable burdens with love and grace.
But this isn’t just a film about emotion. It’s a wake-up call. According to PHI National, the U.S. will need to fill nearly 7.9 million direct care jobs by 2031 to meet demand, yet caregivers remain chronically underpaid, undervalued, and overworked. The median income for a direct-care worker is just $22,000 a year, with high turnover rates and few benefits. And for unpaid caregivers, typically family members, the strain is even greater. It’s estimated that unpaid care contributes more than $600 billion in labor each year to the U.S. economy, yet receives little policy support in return.
While caregiving is often thought of in terms of family, it also takes place in shelters and service organizations. At Interfaith Sanctuary, Boise’s emergency shelter for people experiencing homelessness, caregiving looks like case managers,staff, and volunteers supporting hundreds of guests navigating mental illness, chronic health conditions, and trauma.
For guest and Word on the Street contributor Julie Loomis, the care she received at Interfaith was life-saving.
“Interfaith Sanctuary saved my life,” she shared. “With my mental and physical ailments, I thought, ‘This is the end of me.’ But they gave me hope for the future. They helped me through my mental illness with Project Well Being. There was no judgment, only acceptance. We are people who deserve a second chance. Interfaith Sanctuary will do that.”
Her story echoes the documentary’s message: that care, in all its forms, deserves our recognition, investment, and support.
The screening will begin with networking and resource tables on The Flicks patio at 6:30 p.m., offering guests the chance to connect with local caregiver support services. The film starts at 7:00 p.m., followed by a live panel discussion moderated by Marcia Franklin of Idaho Public Television including panelists Sheila Weaver, Idaho Caregiver Alliance; Jodi Peterson-Stigers, Executive Director, Interfaith Sanctuary; Sarah Gornik, caregiver, Program Coordinator/Parent Education Coordinator, Idaho Parents Unlimited/Statewide Parent Training and Information Center/Family to Family Health Information Center/ Idaho Family Voices/PUL Arts
Each panelist brings a unique perspective, personal, professional, and policy-oriented about the caregiving landscape in Idaho. Together, they’ll explore how caregiving shows up in families, institutions, and shelters, and what it means to truly support those who give so much of themselves to others.
Sarah Gornik’s experience as a caregiver for her son has shaped her the trajectory of her life, career, and perspective. “I want people to understand the need for qualified caregivers and recognize that this is a lucrative and valuable profession,” she said. “We have a major caregiving shortage in Idaho and across the nation and wages are not sustainable for those who are in the profession. Many who are must work more than one full time job just to make ends meet in our state. Myself included, as a single, co-parent, 4th generation Idahoan living in a state I do not want to leave but may soon not have a choice.”
After the discussion, attendees are invited to stay and continue the conversation on The Flicks’ patio for an opportunity to connect, decompress, and build community with fellow caregivers and allies.
This event is more than a film screening, it’s an invitation to be part of something bigger. Whether you’re a caregiver now, have been one, or will one day need care yourself, this is a conversation we all belong in.
This event is free and open to the public, but seating is limited. Tickets and info at www.idahoptv.org/events
We hope to see you there!
IDAHO PUBLIC TELEVISION INVITES YOU TO A FREE SCREENING
Word on the Street
PO BOX 9334
511 S Americana Blvd
Boise, ID 83702
EDITOR IN CHIEF
Molly Balison
WOTS WRITERS/COLUMNISTS
Bo Gerri Graves
Viola Crowley
Nate Dodgson
Eric Endsley
Jodi Peterson-Stigers
Molly Balison
Nicki Vogel
WOTS Historian
Nicky MacAislin
WOTS STREET PHOTOGRAPHERS
Julie Loomis
Gypsy Wind
ART COLLECTIVE DIRECTOR
Chris Alvarez
CONTACT THE EDITOR
To submit story ideas or community articles, please send request and information to molly@interfaithsanctuary.org
POETRY CORNER
Clipped Wings 2 Lost Life Courage Didn’t Make the Cut
By Shilo Crawfurd
Still, somehow, I remain— Not saint, not sinner—just the strain Of learning love that does not break, Or give, then turn away and take.
The shelter walls, the aching cold, Replaced the pews, the cross, the gold. No more “Amen,” just echoes sharp— Of love that stops when life gets hard. They preached of grace, then closed the door, Left me with less than ever before.
A prayerless night, a Styrofoam plate, Became my ritual every day. The hymns still haunt these hallowed halls— But not with comfort—ghosts, not calls. I see their eyes in every face That turns from pain, then speaks of grace. I once believed in something whole, But faith grew teeth and took its toll. My questions made their voices thin— Their version broke, but never bent. A child raised to fear his name, To shrink in shame, to shoulder blame. I begged for mercy, got a rule—
A warning dressed in Sunday school. Still, somehow, I remain— Not saint, not sinner—just the strain Of learning love that does not break, Or give, then turn away and take. And now I build from splintered things— From weathered hope and clipped-off wings. I stitch the sky with trembling hands, And rise, though no one understands. I’m not your verse, your tidy psalm, Not saved, not lost—just scared and calm. A truth too wild for softened pews— A life reclaimed you’d still refuse. The shelter walls, the aching cold, Became the fire that made me bold.
No more “Amen,” no hollow part— Just me, rebuilding from the start.
By Mike Adams
I sit here with my head in hand wondering where my life has gone what things of glory have I done what deeds of might and honor but all I do is sit here in the dark and lament the wasted years of depression and of darkness darkness that I can not let go for it is all I know.
Even when the light comes in I block it out, hide it away from my eyes, for the darkness is my only comfort. The light does not feel right joy escapes of my own twisted choice. Why can I not accept the joy and light and live a happy life why must I torment my self so for when things are bad, I am comfort and when they are good, I feel uneasy uneasy that it will be taken away cruelly, like so many things in life by a parent, a bully or just god I know not, just that this has to end, this life of darkness of lost love and promises unmade born was I to do great things but I have squandered them away like so much sand, thru fingers that can not hold my head up into the light, for the light comes so quick, and then it is snatched away, so I deny it before it can be stolen away is my claim. I know not, just that help is not here, but depression is so close but held at bay for now so in the end, what can I say it is better than I was once for I am active in finding work, to replace the one I so rudely lost of my own stupidity and nature given
By Alexa Hazel
Courage rarely looks like the movies. Flashy lights, everything works out, “end scene!”. It often feels a lot like walking with a limp, like you’ve wrestled hard and in the process dislodged a hip.
It’s quiet, uncomfortable, and often happens in the face of fear.
It’s another step forward, though the rest of the path is unclear.
It’s His perfect strength moving us even when we feel weak and low.
For the Lord is with us wherever we go.
Most acts of courage won’t make the cut for the movie screen, it’s just a quiet resolve to keep saying ‘yes!’ to the next right thing.
Tickle
By Gypsy Wind
When outdoors or fate will stick
You;ll find attached to your skin, a tiny tick. Do not be a d— to the tiny tick
Or it could make you very sick. Do not burn or pull the tiny tick Or it could make you very sick. Don’t be a d— to the tiny tick. Tickle the tick
And you won’t get sick.
A Q tip, a pen, or a little stick
Is all you need to tickle the tick.
On her left you tickle her sweet. Counterclockwise spin her in a tickle retreat.
Until she releases her talons from thee. Then its time to set her free from the life she had before she met me.
ART COLLECTIVE
Photos by Gypsy Wind
Art by Jonathan Asher
Photo by Molly
COMMUNITY PARTNERS
Terry Reilly Tips: Small Steps to Create Togetherness
By Kayla G. Licensed Master Social Worker
True togetherness begins with honoring the value of every single person and committing to actions that support fairness and inclusion. Building a just community doesn’t require grand gestures. In fact, true togetherness simply starts with small, intentional steps. This could mean advocating for a neighbor in need, sharing resources with others, or speaking out against injustice when you see it.
Another powerful way to combat hatred in our neighborhoods is to utilize language carefully, knowing that the words we choose can either divide or unite. Language can be a tool for healing, inclusion, and understanding, but it can also unintentionally reinforce stereotypes, biases, or exclusion. By speaking with kindness and intentionality, we can create a safer neighborhood
for everyone. This means avoiding harmful labels, reframing divisive phrases, and focusing on words that uplift and empower. For example, instead of pointing out differences in a way that separates, we can celebrate diversity as a strength that enriches our community. It also means taking time to listen, understand different perspectives, and challenge biases, both in ourselves and in the systems around us. When we create space for every voice to be heard and every person to feel valued, we build a community where everyone can thrive.
Billy’s Heart for the Community
By Jodi Peterson-Stigers
For some people, kindness and generosity aren’t just actions, they’re part of who they are. At Interfaith Sanctuary, we’re lucky to have people like that find their way to us, bringing their goodness into the work we do.
Billy, the owner of Mai Thai, is one of those people. For years, he has been a constant in our lives, making magic happen just when we need it most. When winter hits and we put out a call for coats, Billy shows up with 50 brand-new jackets in every size. When our gala needs a show-stopping meal, Billy creates an unforgettable Thai feast delighting our donors while easing the strain on our budget. And every single week, without fail, he cooks up pans of fresh, homemade food to serve dinner to all our guests. Our guests look forward to Wednesday nights because they know it means one thing…Mai Thai night. The food is always delicious, made from scratch, and served with love.
What makes Billy’s commitment even more incredible is that it never wavered, even when life threw him a curveball. After unsafe conditions forced him out of his beautiful downtown Boise restaurant, Billy relocated to Meridian for takeout service but he still kept delivering those Wednes-
day night dinners to the shelter.
Now, we’re thrilled to share some exciting news: Mai Thai has a new home at 1744 W. Main St. in Boise with patio seating! You can now place pickup or takeout orders for everything from office lunches to birthday celebrations to weddings. Mai Thai offers made-from-scratch curries and stir-fries, along with vegan, vegetarian, paleo, and gluten-free options-all delivered hot and ready to serve.
Navigating 1141 One Month In
By Molly Balison
DEEDS ON THE STREET WOTS
Free Facials
By Jodi Peterson-Stigers
Sosha was a guest at Interfaith Sanctuary, and while with us, she worked hard to find her path forward. With guts, heart
and determination she found work, saved money and was able to move into her own housing.
While working she went to school to become an esthetician. She just graduated with her license and her first stop was to offer free facials to our guests at Interfaith. She wanted to pay it forward for her time with us.
Sosha is currently looking to find a place to share her skills. If you or someone you know is looking to hire a kind and hard working esthetician, Sosha is your girl! Our guests were glowing and raving about their facials.
You can contact Sosha at sosha818@gmail.com
How Our Garden Grows
By Julie Loomis
There are many opportunities at Interfaith and one was to grow some veggies in the planters at the shelter. Branda, Pip and I started trying to grow our garden. The seeds produced some spring peas and a tomato plant. Pip was able to get some peppers growing. I bought some plants to fill in the rest. Mike sprouted some squash and got them to start growing too. We have cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers and squash flourishing.
This is a special place for us and each of us get our own reward. Just being able to bring forth life and watch it blossom is amazing. Soon we will have lots to share with others. For now we enjoy the vegetables of our labor.
return to Interfaith Sanctuary and received a ticket for camping.
Gypsy claimed that he was told that the owner of a home peeking over the hill above his camp called the police saying they were worried about the man robbing them. He said his interaction with the officers was “pleasant and respectful”.
It has been over a month since SB 1141 went into effect as law. Since July 1, 2025, there have been 109 calls for service, 65 of which were from the public and 44 from officers on patrol. Seven tickets have been issued in the last month.
Since ticketing began, more people are seeking shelter at places like Interfaith
Sanctuary. According to Kate Neville, Interfaith’s daytime shift lead, weekly intake has risen from one or two new guests to three or four since July.
Officers are taking an educational approach to help connect displaced individuals find resources such as shelters and CATCH.
CATCH’s Outreach Team Lead Connor O’Hora said that homeless individuals’ increased interaction with the police is potentially “eroding their trust” of service providers. The outreach team was still able to have 70 contacts with people on the streets in the month of July.
With 28 years of experience, Captain Mike
Hill oversees the Community Outreach Division for the Boise Police Department. “We are trying to move people from a bad situation to a better situation.,” he said. “That doesn’t mean it’s the best situation, but it’s a compassion and empathy driven approach to this issue.”
While the city works to navigate the enforcement of this new law with a focus on compassion, those on the street search for trust, dignity, and survival. As officers, outreach workers, and the unhoused community adjust to the realities of SB 1141, the question remains: How do we ensure public safety concerns are balanced with the rights and dignity of those experiencing homelessness?
Word on the Street photographer Gypsy Wind reported that he was ticketed on the island he’d called home for a few months.
Two police officers and four firemen reached him via raft. He was given 24 hours to disband his camping set up and
Full-Circle Friendship
By Molly Balison
It was around 10 a.m. in Boise when Chris Alvarez, better known as “Critter”, sat on the steps of an apartment complex. It wasn’t his apartment. The night before, he’d slept under the stairwell. As he bent down to tie his shoe, reality struck him. “This is my life at the moment. Homelessness is my life,” he thought. Acceptance mixed with confusion and anger swirled in his mind. He went from being a straight-A student who was always responsible and always had a job, cars, apartments, and friends. It all slipped away the further he fell into a drug addiction.
A curious voice interrupted his train of thought. “Hey. Do you need anything?”
Critter looked up and saw this guy wearing baggy skater clothes, a backwards hat, and compassionate eyes standing in front of him. Critter couldn’t think of how to respond. He knew he needed help, but he didn’t know what for. This stranger introduced himself as Nick and offered something Critter hadn’t expected: a shower, a meal, and a safe place to rest.
Nick’s audacious kindness amazed and even confused Critter, but he accepted the invitation. In Nick’s apartment, Critter noticed photos of Nick with big name skaters hanging on the wall and realized that of all people, the Nick Rogers’, a professional skateboarder, welcomed him into his home at one of the lowest points in Critter’s life. Nick gave him clean, name-brand clothes, a backpack, and a hot meal.
“I felt like I was on a never-ending, soul-searching journey for two years, being homeless,” Critter said, “And Nick played a big part in that. In my recovery too,” he said. “It was an overwhelming sentiment of kindness. A solid representation of humanity that sticks in my mind when I’m going through s—.”
Helping people was ingrained in Nick from a young age. He remembered his dad inviting people who didn’t have a home into theirs for the holidays and sharing meals with those who were hungry. Nick never passed up the opportunity to extend a hand to someone in need wherever he went, including the skate park.
Nick claimed he spent around 10,000 hours at Rhodes Skate Park before 10th grade.
He excelled in the competitive world of skateboarding, winning competitions and growing his network. But his success came with a cost. “I traded passion for glory,” he said. He realized the spark he once had for skateboarding became tied to the world of competition and winning.
His career came to a crashing halt when he fell in an elevator shaft and suffered a leg injury preventing him from skating. After he recovered, he braved the skate park, but he couldn’t bring himself to get sucked into the competitive lifestyle again.
During this time, Critter and Nick lost touch for thirteen years. Nick found himself in a season of uncertainty and instability, so he sought resources at Interfaith Sanctuary. He got involved in Project Well-Being and Word on the Street to gain some structure in his life.
One unexpected day, Nick was hanging out in the Phoenix building and Critter walked in.
Critter’s face lit up. “I never forget a face,” he said.
It was surreal for Critter, now a tattoo artist and director of the Art Collective at Interfaith. The man who once helped him when he was homeless was now seeking support in the very shelter where Critter worked. The roles reversed and they helped each other at their lowest. They are both continuing to rebuild while still impacting people’s lives.
Now, Nick dreams of giving back to the community by creating an skateboarding academy for kids and those with sensory processing challenges. Critter continues inspiring people to be creative while leading the Art Collective and tattooing for a living. Though over a decade had passed, their journeys intersected. The human condition interwoven with kindness brought their resilient friendship full circle.
Passion for People
By Julie Loomis
It has been another year since I landed at Interfaith Sanctuary and I have learned a lot about myself. I learned that depression can have meds that really help. I can endure through heartbreak. I am stronger than the weakness in my body. And I have met many amazing people with their own stories.
People judge us by how some media presents us. Dirty, messy and mentally unstable with some type of addiction. Everyone on the streets has their story and some have issues with drugs or alcohol and mental illness. That is not the underlying cause for many of our homeless. We work or have SSI because we can’t work. Trust me we would definitely like to be back in the workforce. The underlying problem is housing. It is out of our reach. Find housing and the homeless population would sufficiently decrease. Find safe housing
for mentally ill or for many who want to not be addicted and it would decrease more. Yes there are a few who like to wander but most want their own place.
When someone is in a mental hospital and nowhere to go, we end up out on the street or in a homeless shelter. We are still not all the way settled and being here doesn’t help. You want us off the streets but give us nowhere to go. The only drugs we are on are the ones we are supposed to be on.
Out here we see people get housing and we celebrate. We also see people die and not just drug abuse. I lost a good friend that died from a massive heart attack. I am tired of losing friends.
If I sound passionate, I am because this is my life and my friend’s life. These are elderly, physically or mentally disabled, abused victims, displaced youth,and just ordinary people who ran into bad luck. We don’t need your laws against us, your pity or rude comments. We need your understanding, compassion and help.
We are also artists, writers, singers, construction workers, retail workers and many other things. We are human beings with no homes. Speak with your actions and show us we are not invisible.
PASSION & PERSPECTIVE
Moving Forward: From Guest, to Handyman, to Facility Director
By Molly Balison
No one knows the ins and outs of Interfaith Sanctuary’s emergency shelter better than Ernest “Buzz” Garcia. As Facility Director, he keeps the building running, the lights on, and the chaos maintained. Few people know that he wasn’t always the head honcho of the shelter, but rose from humble beginnings.
Originally from San Francisco, Buzz wound up in Boise after one too many unpaid traffic tickets came back to bite him. “They just decided to pull my driver’s license,” he said. “Which makes it really tough when you have to drive to work.”
He started biking miles to work under the blazing California sun until both physical and mental exhaustion caught up to him. Eventually, he lost his job and his housing. He resorted to couch surfing for six months while his wife and daughter made their way to Boise. In January 2009, Buzz decided to join his family at the Interfaith Sanctuary. Walking into a homeless shelter was a foreign feeling to him. Staying at one overnight for survival was even more humbling.
Buzz found himself in a waiting period — waiting on stability, waiting on housing, waiting on hope. However, he is not one to sit idle, so he started volunteering with the Work Ready team, a group of guests who volunteered within Interfaith to become equipped to enter the workforce. He could do anything from fixing light fixtures to water heaters. Fixing things gave Buzz some control when life seemed to unravel.
“For the first six months, it was pretty bleak,” he said about his early time in the shelter. “But then, things started to come together.”
Right before Thanksgiving in November 2009, Buzz’s wife received her disability check, giving them enough money to rent a mobile home. Even after moving into a home, Buzz came back to Interfaith as a volunteer. He found a friendship with the Operations Manager at the time, Dan Ault, who recognized Buzz’s skills and began tasking him with projects big and small, then offered him a job.
“They go, ‘Do you want to be facilities or do you want to be maintenance?’ and I go, ‘How about facility maintenance?’” he said.
After spending seven years as Facility Manager, he was promoted to Facility Director in 2018. He has been an integral part of holding the emergency together ever since.
“There’s nobody here who really knows what I do well enough to train someone else in it,” he said.
From couch surfing in San Jose to holding the keys to one of Boise’s most critical shelters, his journey is one of resilience, routine, quiet redemption, and unwavering work ethic. He proved that with persistence and purpose, both struggle and success can happen under one roof.
Buzz expressed that being homeless for a time allows him to empathize with guests while also being a source of authority and not letting his experience interfere with his work. “You don’t know where they are or where they’re going, you just see them at their lowest point,” he said. “You can be living in a homeless shelter with no income but work your way back to proving, owning your own home, driving a new car, and pulling your own weight.”
He encourages folks experiencing homelessness that no matter the number of years they’ve spent making mistakes and attempting to start over, there’s still an
opportunity to rebuild.
The director never expected to be a homeowner, let alone maintain a homeless shelter, but he found his calling after
decades of searching. “Just because you haven’t done it yet doesn’t mean you’re not going to do it,” he said. “It’s never too late to move forward.”
Road to Redemption Part 9: The Steps of a Wise Man are Ordered by the Lord
By Bo
My first two days on the job were a blur of fast-paced work and constant encouragement from coworkers telling me how good I was doing. After a brief sick spell that forced me to call in just as many days as I’d worked, I came back to smiling faces and found my rhythm again. I’m grateful and giving all the glory to God.
Working in the student dining hall felt like a gift. I live in a shelter, and the peace I felt just being at work made me grate-
ful. I showed up on cloud nine every day, talking to students in line, reminding them to keep pushing, to believe in themselves, to study hard. I’d say things like, “Hey, if no one told you today, I believe in you.”
They’d smile and come back for “the Bo Special,” which was just my way of adding a little extra flavor or swapping chips for tortillas. It wasn’t fancy, but it made people feel good.
But then a lazy coworker started draining my energy, and I accidentally rubbed the head director the wrong way over a backwards hat. Things started to feel tense. I kept my focus, though. I knew I was in the right place.
Then came a tough week. I spent three straight days at the busier dining hall for an event. Less help, triple the crowd. I was overwhelmed. Cooking 250 servings wasn’t something I’d done before. Every minute mattered. If you were late, you heard about it. Even though I was still learning, I gave it everything I had.
That’s when people started noticing not just the food, but how I made them feel. Students, staff, and clients would line up with big smiles. They made me feel seen. But when I found out I was staying anoth-
er week at that hall, I wasn’t thrilled. I felt stretched thin, and the workplace suddenly got tense. Within days, they fired ten people. I started to wonder if I’d be next.
To ground myself, I made it a point to greet the director every morning: “Good morning, sir.” He never said much, but I stayed visible. One day, I was told he wanted to see me. My heart dropped. I walked into a room with both executive chefs and the director. No one said anything.
I asked, “Am I fired?”
He looked at me and said, “Actually, you’re doing a great job.”
He handed me five printouts, including emails and surveys from students and staff praising my service, my attitude, and my food. He even gave me a gift card and took me shopping at the campus store.
fOn the walk over, I shared a little bit of my story, including how I live at a shelter, yet show up every day not just to cook, but to inspire. He appreciated hearing it. I didn’t change who I was to get here. I stayed true to myself. And it turns out that’s exactly what made the biggest impact.
If it Can Happen to me
By Gerri Graves
Education. College will save you from poverty. Become a Doctor, a Lawyer or one of those Tech Engineers. They make great money!
Or marry one. That’s it. Be a great housewife. Submissive and docile. Don’t have thoughts or opinions...just a dozen kids. The more you have, the less your husband will feel inclined to leave. I mean, divorce... with all those kids? It would financially devastate him.
Now, go put on your lipstick and evening attire. The pot roast is almost done, the pie is ready to go in...and your man is late in coming home from work. Probably a few cocktails with coworkers. You know how he complains when the roast is dry and overcooked...perhaps add some broth and simmer on super low to keep it warm until he decides to remember he has a family.
My parents laid out some pretty bleak options for my future, but money was the true objective. Either educate yourself into it, or marry into it......and at the very least, you’ll have the semblance of marital bliss.
We women finally came into our own in the latter part of the 19th-20th century. We weren’t necessarily confined to honoring that teenage shotgun wedding for the rest of our lives, but our parents were brainwashed by that ill-advice...and regurgitated it to their children.
But Gen X? Oh heck to the no! We expunkers, new wave, goth, grunge, metal heads weren’t necessarily concerned with winning the lottery....and we sure as heck
didn’t want to marry our teenage crush for infinity times infinity.
Generations that came after us added to that mountain of “not my parents’ mistakes”. We were not going to listen to that nonsense any longer.
Their many goals included a higher education and freedom from relying on anyone else’s income. Some opted out of marriage and having children.
My kids have many flaws, just like their Ma, but are wonderful, caring people. They’re not Doctors or Lawyers...but good human beings living their lives as they see fit.
My children are definitely a blessing to me, but I do understand why some decline procreation. It’s a hard job that never ends until the end of your days. You don’t cease being a mother once they reach 18; you are a mother forever. That means you love them despite their bad decisions and mistakes. It’s a whole lot of listening and trying to understand their point of view, hand-holding, and accepting their choice of a partner. Arguing and making up. Snuggles, popcorn, and Buffy in October. Lol
They forgive me my flaws and I forgive theirs...as we all navigate this difficult partnership without a ‘how to’ handbook.
Some women are just not meant to become mothers...and I appreciate the honesty they have with themselves. I mean, I’m sure we can all think of a woman or two that were thrust into motherhood. Coming from a terrible upbringing within their own childhood, they struggle with it. Essentially, flying blind. No one ever showed them how to be a good parent, or a parent at all, for that matter.
I recently met up with a woman who had decided early on that children were not in her future. She focused on her career and did quite well.
Her shockingly bright blue eyes showed intellect, as she cautiously chose her words with care. She explained how she entered the tech world and how she worked her way up through the hierarchy after a handful of years. Now, with a whole crew working under her, she kept busy. It was one of the perks she pointed out: “The work day flew by.”
She liked her job, even though she clocked a lot of OT hours. “Working in a field you love doesn’t feel like work. The field is constantly changing, keeping me on my toes. It never became stagnant. Hard to become bored with an occupation that constantly fills you with fresh knowledge.”
I agreed with her. “You stop learning, you start dying,” I replied. I understood her point and reflected on some of the mindless jobs I had to work just to make ends meet, while dancing the single mom jig.
She mentioned that she had thought of becoming a mom, but her past relationships were not healthy enough to introduce a child into them.
“One, the last one actually, was volatile. We shared a dog and a cat. That was as close to becoming a parent as I’ve ever been,” she added.
Her face contorted as she alluded to my gaze. A look of pain flashed across her face before she composed herself enough to continue, “I caught her cheating on me, after years of her gaslighting to the contrary.”
She explained the complex situation more comprehensively. They worked different shifts, which in essence meant...they slept separately during the work week. She would often hear thumping, walking, and low whispers coming from the upper floor of the house. When she had enquired as to who had visited, her partner assured her, over and over, that no one had stopped by.
It frightened her. Lying there, in the dark, listening to it. It broke her, mentally. She felt crazy. Until she caught her in the act. She left that night, stating she’d be back for her things. In the interim, however, her partner sold most of it. Family heirlooms. Her work laptop. Clothes, gaming systems, televisions, furniture. Any item worth anything, she sold.......and the few items that were left, she held hostage at her new boyfriend’s place. Yeah.....the ‘current’ person she had been cheating with. There had been many, she later found out. She came back to Idaho with what little savings she had, and not much else. She’d lost everything.
She slept in her car, showered at the YCMA, and put in applications everywhere.....but, as luck would have it, no one was hiring a tech engineer. With
the introduction of AI, and the tech field evolving yet again...her years of experience were made redundant.
She ended up taking whatever she could get...a fast food job to begin with and now, a call center position.
She eventually saved up for an apartment, although she had nothing to put into it. At night, she slept on the floor and grappled with a future of uncertainty. It’s the first time she’s ever felt that her life was no longer in her control.
She contemplated going back to school, but the tech field is changing faster than the time needed to earn a new degree. Not only that, but she needs to work full time in order to just exist.
Her job now pays a third of what she used to make...but the rent is twice as much.
I think her story is an important one. She made all the right decisions in her life. She is smart and decisive. Honest and empathetic. Worked hard for her future. No dependents. No dependency on any substance. Had a small savings. Paid off her car and credit cards- no debt.
She should have been secure. The epitome of the American dream- work hard and reap the rewards. But one failed relationship and a drastic change in her field of expertise upended her entire future.
Sadly, hers is not the only story I’ve heard regarding the tech field. I’ve personally read two other stories of tech engineers, one homeless and one living in his RV, who have also lost everything...and cannot find a job. Both lived lives of zero risk. The assumption is, for the most part, people who become homeless brought it on themselves...and yet, here is a fine example of someone who did everything right, and still ended up sleeping in her car.
If it can happen to her, then none of us is safe. We’re just a few paychecks away from losing everything.
As she got up to leave, I hugged her neck and reminded her that she’s not alone, “I know it must feel like everyone has jumped ship and left you to figure this out alone. Some think homelessness is contagious. But I think that wicked side-eye you possess will come in handy when you leave them all in the past. One look back... and then never look back again.”
New Executive Order: Ending Crime and Disorder on
America’s Streets
By Molly Balison and Jodi Peterson-Stigers
On July 24, 2025, President Donald J. Trump signed an executive order titled “Ending Crime and Disorder on America’s Streets,” introducing sweeping changes to how homelessness will be handled in cities nationwide.
In the order, Trump declares that “shifting homeless individuals into long-term institutional settings for humane treatment through the appropriate use of civil commitment will restore public order,” and that “surrendering our cities and citizens to disorder and fear is neither compassionate to the homeless nor other citizens.” His “new approach” focuses on civil commitment, forcibly moving unhoused individuals into institutional settings, coupled with strict enforcement of urban camping bans, loitering laws, and drug-use prohibitions.
This comes as the January 2024 Pointin-Time Count recorded 771,400 people
experiencing homelessness nationwide,274,224 of them unsheltered, the highest number ever recorded, and an 18% increase from 2023.
While the administration frames the policy as compassionate, it raises urgent and troubling questions:
• Where exactly will people be taken and who decides they must go there?
• What oversight exists to prevent abuse, wrongful detention, or indefinite institutionalization?
• How will forced confinement and treatment impact mental health, dignity, and trust in both government and service providers?
• Why is the priority “treatment before housing” when research overwhelmingly shows housing first is the most effective path to stability?
• Will the criminalization of visible
poverty drive people further from services and deeper into crisis?
Possible Impacts on People Experiencing Homelessness
• Loss of choice and autonomy: Individuals could be removed from streets and shelters through civil commitment, not because they’ve secured permanent housing, but because they’ve been placed in long-term institutions, often against their will.
• Displacement instead of stability: Federal funding may increasingly flow to cities that criminalize camping, loitering, and squatting, pushing people from public spaces without offering real housing solutions.
• Erosion of trust in services: The line between care providers and enforcers could blur, making many fearful of seeking help and further isolating those already disconnected from
support systems.
Critics warn the order risks stripping the unhoused of basic rights, blurring the line between public safety and state control, and redefining poverty as a crime. Supporters argue it could restore order and give people the help they need but on whose terms and at what cost?
If this policy moves forward, we must ask: Is this truly about compassion or about making homelessness invisible?