Comment
on this story

For more information on residency, VAP, volunteering, or to donate items:

YWCA of Knoxville
420 West Clinch Ave.
Knoxville, TN 37902
865-523-6126

Family violence help line:
(865) 521-6336 (or 911 for immediate help)

Residency program requirements:
Must be at least 18 years old
Must complete application and interview and provide references (if necessary)
Must prove at least part-time employment (or social security income)
On admittance, must pay two weeks' rent in advance and bring own toiletries

The downtown YWCA is helping women through difficult times.

by Joey Cody

Note: Some names have been changed to protect identities.

Edna is finally smiling.

When she left her emotionally abusive father and brother behind in Blount County, she didn't know what to do. Fortunately, a friend told her that the YWCA was a safe place to live and get her life back together. She moved in and got the haven and emotional support she needed. Eventually, at a Habitat for Humanity seminar sponsored by the Y, she learned singles may apply for Habitat housing. Y staff members are excited—Edna is the first resident who's qualified for the program, and she'll be moving in next summer.

It's been a tough time for Edna. She's repairing family relationships and working full-time while completing her Habitat "equity hours"—the 500 hours required as a down payment on her Habitat house. (She's taking construction and budget classes, and working at the thrift store.)

Though Edna's emotionally and physically exhausted, she shares a tired but triumphant grin when announcing she's off to pick out colors for her walls, siding, and linoleum. "[The Y] has helped me get back on my feet, emotionally and financially," Edna declares.

No catchy disco songs celebrate the amenities of the Young Women's Christian Association. But, among several services and programs, the YWCA still provides an invaluable service the YMCA no longer offers: safe, affordable housing for people in transition.

The first YWCA boarding house opened in 1860 in New York City, to support young women moving from rural areas or from other countries in search of work and education. During the first half of the 20th century, tens of thousands of working women lived at YWCA facilities in cities across the country, largely because it was cheaper to live there than anywhere else.

Today, women may seek shelter at the Y for many reasons. They may be homeless, recovering from addiction or mental illness, seeking continuing education, or escaping abusive relationships.

Knoxville YWCA chapter CEO Jeanette Hess believes strongly in the Y's holistic approach to achieving self-sufficiency: health, employment, secure housing, and self-esteem.

The building at 420 West Clinch Avenue opened as a hotel for women in 1925, and its mission has never changed. Women from the ages of 18 (the minimum) up to 62 have sought refuge at the Knoxville Y. Fifty-eight furnished, private rooms are available, as well as an "emergency" room. The dorm-like rooms—at $40 per week—are small and sunny, each with its own personality, thanks to volunteers who furnish and decorate them.

Common areas include showers, a kitchen, a TV lounge, and a community resource library. Many of the lodgers access the Internet and take computer classes at the library. The convenient downtown location allows access to employers and public transportation.

Residents can also take advantage of the pantry—donated food, medical supplies, personal necessities, and career clothing. Seniors can have Meals-on-Wheels delivered to their rooms, and the women become full Y members after 30 days, allowing use of the gym and pool.

This haven does not come without rules: no alcohol, no drugs, no fighting—a woman can be evicted for these offenses. Residence Director Sherri Kellerman says that although drama abounds, conflicts are rare—"surprising for a large group of very different women."

Residents express a few complaints—parking expenses, a temperamental elevator, and the concern that some people there still need more supervised care. But the feedback is almost completely positive and grateful, because these women know that $40 a week wouldn't buy them a very safe place in the larger community.

To ensure that the residents make a sincere effort to get their lives back on track—and to be fair to others waiting for a room—they are allowed only two chances to use the program. As Hess says, "We want to help the women, not make them dependent on us."

Although the average stay is six months, residents are allowed to stay up to two years, provided they are actively pursuing their educational, rehabilitation, employment, or other goals. "We don't exist just to let the girls lay upstairs," says Hess.

One of the best aspects of the residency program is the on-site professionals who provide advice and case management, such as information on Social Security, psychiatric help, police protection, and more. Many women aren't aware of the community resources available, and staffers can help them navigate financial, bureaucratic, and legal red tape.

The Y sees itself in the continuum of care and works with several other community organizations—mental health agencies, rehabilitation centers and halfway houses, career advice and educational institutions, and many others.

Funding for Y services is pieced together through United Way and direct donations, the annual Race Against Racism, membership dues, fundraisers, and grants. That's a lot of grant writing and fund-wrangling, but Hess says, "The paperwork is worth it in order to serve people."

Some women use the transitional shelter to heal and learn or regain self-reliance and confidence. Others, like Meta*, are fiercely independent, and have become dedicated to educating themselves. Meta is proud of her full-time work at a downtown hotel, and enjoys her GED classes, saying she is determined to stay in school and "do it right." She's one of the many residents of whom Hess is proud. "Ninety-five percent take the opportunity and run with it," Hess says.

Mfume* has been staying at the Y for about four months. She came from a halfway house/treatment center. Mfume's a refreshing combination of positive attitude and accountability, recognizing that she needs the order and support of the Y. "I do need to settle down and quit being irresponsible," Mfume says. The Y is "something a little bit more sheltered and structured" she requires to work toward her goals.

After she lost her job due to layoffs, she made plans to go back to school. She wants to find a career that will last, and has been researching a medical program.

Since her family is out of the country, Mfume has relied on the staff for emotional support and advice. Career counselor JoAnn Rothery has been a big help, staffers are always willing to chat about day-to-day life, and she and her fellow residents, "hang out and check on each other."

Right now, Mfume's taking things one day at a time. She plans to stay for the full two years, working, saving money, and continuing her education. In her off time, she uses the fitness room and recently took part in a stress management program.

As for living at the Y? She feels comfortable and safe (someone is working the desk at all times, and the KPD is responsive), enjoys the privacy of her room, and chalks up differences among residents as part of regular living.

"In the past four months, I have achieved more than I have in the past five or six years," she says. "This is the way I need to be."

Since one of the Y's missions is helping women escape, recover from, and prevent violence in their lives, it also offers the Victim Advocacy Program (VAP).

Beth Ballo, Victim Advocate Director, is passionate about her job. She has been working in some aspect of domestic violence since 1988, and she was touched personally when a close friend was murdered by her husband. That her friend also worked in victim advocacy is a testament to the powerful fear that accompanies the decision to flee an abuser.

Each day, Ballo helps men and women file orders of protection, and she says getting victims in the KPD database is crucial. If they're not on file, "they're safe in the building, but if they walk out the door, we can't protect them."

Ballo and her fellow advocates field more than 7,000 calls a year, mostly giving options and advice, and VAP offers free support groups. But if a case is opened, they'll hold victims' hands through the process.

One of the many people Ballo has helped is Cora*. Cora is nine days from her due date, and a long way from home.

As the young woman touches her swollen belly, peacefulness beams from her pretty face. She and her mother (who traveled here to help take care of her grandbaby) can't say enough good things about the YWCA.

Cora holds degrees in her home country and was a UT doctoral candidate when she finally decided to leave her abusive American husband for good.

For Ballo, this is one of the most frustrating aspects of the job. Most often, it's the victims who are forced to leave their homes, children, jobs, friends—while the abusers give up nothing except their control over the victim. The good news is, in 95 percent of cases, abusers will back off after being served with an order of protection or criminal warrant. Other times, weak sentences merely allow abusers to stew in jail and plot revenge. Harassment and threats don't necessarily stop when an abuser is incarcerated.

Though Cora lost her home through legal snafus (her husband fled the country, so divorce proceedings are incomplete), she quickly found an apartment through HUD. The Y was even able to give her many household items, as well as a grant for expenses like utility deposits and a bed. She says attending the support group once a week and a six-week self-confidence program prepared her for being on her own. For now, she is surviving on a combination of WIC, food stamps, and TennCare.

As nice as her new apartment is, it was hard to sleep there because, for Cora, the most difficult part came after leaving, when the worries set in about how to take care of herself and her child. Her husband canceled her health insurance and tried to defame her in letters to UT, her country's government, even her mother's place of work.

Cora is also dealing with immigration/naturalization hassles, but has plans to return to her studies or become a nurse. She misses staff members like Ballo, "Coach" (Cindy Beckman, now retired), and the friendly, lively Kellerman, who would leave little gifts for the baby. "They became like family to me."

Her mother wishes there were organizations like the YWCA everywhere. "In our country, it would help many, many women."
 

October 17, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 42
© 2002 Metro Pulse