Health deputies: No badges required
These volunteers are trained to share information in their communities
Gia Braafhart had just been trained as a community health deputy when, one recent night, a young girl knocked on the door of her house in Perry South. It was raining, the girl was distressed — and not wearing a mask.
“I said, ‘Do you know the danger you are in?’ ” Ms. Braafhart said.
Doesn’t everyone know by now that no one knocks on a door to get inside with COVID-19 raging out there? But this girl had more immediate worries. She didn’t feel safe in her home.
Ms. Braafhart was equipped to do double duty in her role as a health deputy after being trained by the Neighborhood Resilience Project.
She is one of 74 health deputies in numerous communities in the Pittsburgh area. The all-volunteer force is charged with spreading accurate information about the pandemic while also checking on people in their network, being sensitive to signs of stress and trauma, said the Rev. Paul Abernathy, founder and CEO of the Neighborhood Resilience Project, located in the Hill District.
The Resilience Project has for years based its social service on the understanding that trauma is at the core of much societal dysfunction in minority communities. It has used the data and help of behavioral health professionals to help micro-communities in the Hill District become more resilient.
“When it became clear the pandemic was ensuing, we started hearing people say things like, ‘Black people can’t get that disease,’ ” Rev. Abernathy said. “It shocked me. It became abundantly clear there wouldn’t be much done for minority and immigrant communities and that they would be the last to get testing sites.
“We had experience on the epidemiological level and a skill set that could be adapted to combat this epidemic,” he said.
The targeted communities include Clairton, the Hill District, Homewood, Natrona, Natrona
Heights, North Versailles, Uptown, West End, Wilkinsburg, Braddock, Chalfant, East Pittsburgh, North Braddock, Rankin, Swissvale, Turtle Creek and Wilkins.
The Neighborhood Resilience Project tapped its network — the Department of Human Services, Jewish Family and Children’s Services, the University of Pittsburgh, and Duquesne University among them — for recommendations of community helpers.
Several of the health deputies live in communities of immigrant residents and speak their languages.
Deputies are equipped with a list of screening questions about symptoms, interactions and flyers to hand out in boxes of food and other goods donated to community centers.
Some wear fluorescent yellow vests that identify them as community health deputies when they go out. They aren’t enforcers, but they have some authority, said Rev. Abernathy.
“These deputies are known in their communities,” he said. “Their message is, ‘We care about you.’ Their authority comes from their lived experience in their communities, and that authority is more effective than power.”
‘In a loving way’
John Burwell, of Homestead, said he has had several opportunities for direct intervention.
“I was at the store, and this man behind me reached over and put his items on the belt, right near my face, and I said, ‘Mister, please, can I have 6 feet?’ and he said, ‘Huh?’ He seemed not to know what I was talking about.
“I carry a tape measure around, trying to inject a little humor. You can’t confront. You have to do it in a loving way that says, ‘I want you to be here. I want to be here.’ ”
Mr. Burwell was tapped for the training by UPMC. He is a community programs specialist at UPMC Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh’s Braddock Family Care Connection Center. He is also music director at the Second Baptist Church in
Homestead and teaches music at the Center for Urban Biblical Ministries in Point Breeze.
With a network in the hundreds, he contacted people who would contact others in their own networks.
“I walk around in my vest, and if I see people in groups without masks, I advise them,” he said. “I think it’s taken people a while to get the drift of this. Like when I was diagnosed with diabetes. It took a while to realize that I had to make changes.”
But he said he recognizes the stress social isolation can cause.
“This pandemic is asking us to go against everything we think is normal. We are supposed to touch and be touched. It’s hard as a human to downplay things that are innate in you.”
He continues to work at the Care Connection Center in Braddock, where he and three other staffers have space to social distance.
“We have people come to pick up diapers, hand solution, baby food, food boxes. For people who don’t drive, we drop it off. And we are also doing all the best practices [to counter the pandemic] and teaching people how to do the same.”
Rhonda Lockett has been active in the Neighborhood Resilient Project’s efforts to build resilience on her street, Webster Avenue, in the Hill District. She was on her front porch one day recently when a group of teenagers walked by.
She immediately slipped into deputy mode.
“I called to them, ‘Hey, where are your masks?’ And they said, ‘In our pockets.’ ”
It was a teaching moment.
“We were trained to reach out to all people, with a concern for seniors who may live alone and have fear. One individual is caring for his 84-year-old mother. She begged to be tested. She had been outside and thought she might have contracted it. Her son contacted her [primary care physician], and he wrote a prescription to ease her mind.
“Many people do listen to the news, but there’s a lot of confusion. They are so happy to receive a call. Some have asked for a prayer. Yes, I have prayed with them over the phone.”
She said she doesn’t have time to work jigsaw puzzles or binge watch anything: “This is what I am doing.”
‘Just a phone call’
John Pastorek saw a perfect fit in being a health deputy. He is CEO and president of the Allegheny-Kiski Health Foundation in Natrona Heights, which is supported by donations.
Its services are free and include a community nurse program, firefighter training program for high school students, and a middle school outreach to promote inclusivity and an appreciation of diversity.
He has a network of about 50 people, and his network has reach beyond the county.
“It probably doesn’t seem like a big thing to call one elderly woman who is home with her husband, and both have umpteen medical problems. But she says, ‘You don’t know how much we appreciate this.’ Just a phone call.”
He said he has had opportunities to warn people about social distancing.
“Some kids were playing basketball, and I said, ‘Hey, guys, do you realize what’s going on?’ ”
Ms. Braafhart, who is active in the Perry Hilltop-Fineview Citizens Councils, said most of her outreach is to families whose first language is Spanish.
“They can’t get unemployment, and they don’t realize they cannot be evicted. Some have tax ID numbers but no Social Security numbers.
“Some people don’t know where to get a mask, so I can connect them to people in the neighborhood who are making them,” she said. “Or I can connect them to someone who can go to the store for them.
“One thing we do is to correct misconceptions. If I am at the store and people are not keeping social distance, I am responsible to let them know about that, without causing drama. Some people are like, ‘Nobody tells me what to do.’ I try to make them aware that the virus can survive on surfaces for a certain number of hours.”
More familiar threats
Amid the all-consuming worry about COVID-19, some people face more familiar threats.
When the girl showed up at Ms. Braafhart’s door, her own three children were watching TV.
“They knew I wasn’t going to let this girl stand out in the rain, so they went upstairs.
“The girl said her mother had put her out. She said, ‘Don’t take me home. You don’t understand. I haven’t slept for three nights.’
“I let her in because if she were my child, well ... But I knew she couldn’t stay. I let her sleep on my couch and kept trying to reach out to her family.
“She was hungry, so we gave her food. I took her home around one in the morning, but she didn’t want to get out of the car. She ended up knocking on a neighbor’s door. I got in touch with her siblings later and they said, ‘She’s fine.’ I’m taking them at their word.
“Everyone is concerned about the COVID, but there are so many more things going on out there.”