North Carolina homeless women look to change lives
ASHEVILLE, N.C.—These women have one less thing to fear as the sun sets and a cold darkness sets in. Typically, about 12 in number and all homeless, they will have a safe place to go.
Every week the women stay at a new church, where at a minimum they are given dinner, a bed and breakfast through the program Room in the Inn.
But on most nights, there are activities, like crafting and nail-painting stations, which provide the women an opportunity to relax and indulge.
Operated through Homeward Bound, Room in the Inn takes in women living substance-free and pairs them with case managers to transition them into permanent housing.
"These women are putting in the work," said Sharon Blythe, who since 2009 has been Room in the Inn's volunteer programs director. She started volunteering in 2001 when the program was first implemented in Asheville.
"We choose women for the program who we are optimistic about their chances of success once they are placed in housing," Blythe said.
Room in the Inn now reaches full capacity more than ever. Blythe said she is seeing new faces weekly as the women work to transition into permanent housing. As word spreads of the program's success, more women are coming to Homeward Bound asking how they can join.
There are many reasons for the steady stream of homeless women in Asheville, Blythe said, with a big one being increasing numbers of women and children who are homeless.
These rates have been steadily increasing in North Carolina, along with domestic abuse cases, according to the N.C. Department of Justice.
At least 20 percent of homeless women cite some form of physical, emotional or sexual abuse as the reason they became homeless, according to the U.S. Department of Health.
There are other reasons Room in the Inn stays full. The women said they are treated like real people as opposed to just another homeless person to take care of.
Blythe added that they don't have to worry about their safety or if they have enough layers of clothing to survive the night.
"We get to eat off real plates with real utensils," said Pamela Hamrick, 42, who has been in the program for one week. "I ended up here because of a really bad physical abuse situation. But I got past it and now I have never been happier."
Hamrick, known to many as Miss Sunshine, has a booming voice and infectious laugh. She makes it a point to talk to all the women before they go to their rooms at 10 p.m. Her favorite nightly activities are the arts and crafts.
In just one week in the program, she has already applied for an ID card, food stamps and is beginning to research how to become a certified substance abuse counselor.
Room in the Inn maintains a 90 percent retention rate, and the Asheville program is rare among similar programs in that it requires the women to work with case managers, which Blythe believes is the most important component to the women's future success.
Women typically stay in the program seven to nine months before transitioning out.
Despite other homeless programs and shelters in Asheville, people often fail to recognize homelessness knows no boundaries, Blythe said.
"I was a single mother at one time in my life and the only reason I didn't end up homeless is because I had a support system," she said. "That is the only reason I didn't wind up at a shelter."
Breaking the barriers: the women of Room in the Inn
Like Blythe, Pam Pressley had a support system, but hers collapsed and she found herself on the street after a marriage of 20 years and having raised two daughters.
She said she never noticed the homeless shelters in Asheville, and never worried about what happened to people living on the streets on the coldest nights of winter. She didn't need to—she had a warm home.
"One year ago, I chose to get out of a 20-year marriage that took me four years to summon the courage to leave," Pressley said.
Pressley, now 42, had been with her husband since she was 18, taking care of him and then taking care of her daughters. Cleaning and waiting on people was her life. After the marriage ended, she was directionless.
"After we divorced, I got together with someone I met on Facebook and we were together up until August," Pressley recalled. "He turned out to be emotionally abusive and then no longer wanted me."
With nowhere to go and not knowing how to survive on the streets alone, Pressley frantically looked for a free shelter to sleep and eventually made her way to Western Carolina Rescue Ministries. Both of her daughters stayed with her ex-husband when Pressley left.
Pressley said she was overcome with terror and tears during those first few nights at the organization's homeless shelter on Patton Avenue.
"It was the most horrific feeling in the world," she said.
To stay at the shelter and have food to eat, have a bed and a have safe environment to keep her belongings, she was required to participate in classes and complete daily chores.
Pressley said her anxiety about her situation made her sick, to the point she felt she was either going to have a breakdown or end up hospitalized.
"I had never been homeless before and I needed to figure out how I ended up here and I just wanted to move forward with my life," Pressley said. "But I couldn't do that with the strict requirements of the shelter, working long days, so I had to get out of there."
For the first time in 42 years, she slept on the streets—a November night when the low fell to 32 degrees.
During those three nights, she shivered side-by-side with a friend she met at the shelter.
She said her friend, Ray, protected her and kept her warm.
"But we both spent hours just waiting for the sun to rise," Pressley said.
She knew after those three nights of sleeping outdoors she had to find a bed or she wasn't going to survive.
As Pressley and Ray were walking around Asheville, she ran into another woman from Rescue Ministries who told her about Room in the Inn. Her friend and future roommate at Room in the Inn, Pamela Hamrick, was going to be starting the program and sleeping at the rotating churches that host program.
"I immediately walked to AHOPE and asked who I could speak to about the program," Pressley said. AHOPE is a day center for homeless men and women operated by Homeward Bound.
At first, she was told there may not be room for her. But Pressley showed up at AHOPE at 4:30 p.m. on Monday afternoon hoping there would be an opening.
She was told she was accepted into Room in the Inn.
"I cried that whole first night and the next day, my heart couldn't take how humbled I felt," Pressley said. "You go from having a home and family, to being homeless, to sleeping on the streets, and then to having a bed again. I still cannot accept it."
She said for the first time in months she could sleep—she felt like she was home.
On her fourth night at Grace Episcopal Church, where the women were staying for the week, she got her hair cut by a volunteer hairstylist. Her smile beamed as she played with her much shorter hair.
Other women around her were eating pork chops and potatoes off ceramic plates and making jewelry with more volunteers.
Later that night, Pressley played 'All I Want For Christmas' by Mariah Carey on repeat while holding a teddy bear named Ray Ray—named after her friend she met at the shelter.
Her goal is to go back to school to become a nurse after moving into an apartment of her own.
"This has all taught me how tough I am and what it means to be strong woman," Pressley said. A source of hope
Unlike Pressley, Donna Ball was homeless for 13 years before she found Room in the Inn. She couchsurfed, stayed at her sister's home and lived on-and-off with boyfriends, while living on the streets intermittently. She had two children she didn't raise and struggled with a crack addiction.
By 2011, she was tired of the instability, tired of her addiction ruling her life and tired of the anger she felt toward the world. So she started playing cards every day at AHOPE until someone told her about Room in the Inn.
"Needless to say, when I finally found AHOPE I was beat down and rough from living on the streets," Ball said. "But I knew if I didn't do something I was dead."
Blythe was only two years into her position as the program director and was overwhelmed with juggling over 100 volunteer coordinators and close to 25 church partners.
She originally told Ball she was going to have to wait for an opening—but waiting wasn't an option for Ball.
"I wasn't going to make it one more night on the street, so I just started crying," Ball said.
Blythe made room for her and in 2011, Ball made the first step in regaining stability in her life.
"After that moment, I knew she was going to make it," Blythe said. "She was honest from the get-go and wanted to get her life back."
Ball started attending morning Alcoholic Anonymous meetings and afternoon Narcotics Anonymous meetings to stay sober. To pass the hours in between, she would hang around AHOPE until it was time to go to the church for the night.
Slowly, Ball began to open up and trust people again. After nine months, she was set to move out on her own.
Ball said the first two weeks in her apartment she didn't leave—it was the first time in almost two decades she felt safe enough to let go of everything and sleep.
Like Blythe, Ball emphasizes that no one chooses to be homeless and that no one wants that way of life.
"I grew up with parents who were vocal about the fact I was a mistake and that they didn't want me, so I started using heroin at 11 years old to escape my life," Ball said.
Today, she lives in her own apartment and has a full-time job working with autistic children and adults. She is married and has a relationship with her children. She has been clean of drugs ever since her first night at Room in the Inn in 2011.
"Sharon believed in me when no one else did," Ball said. "She has been the single most influential person in my adult life."
To women who are still struggling on the streets, Ball said she wants them to know there are people who very much care.
"You can make a change before you are dead. There is no reason for you to be going hungry on the streets," Ball said.