Bulletin Board
The place where you can stay up to date with the latest events, stories, news, and opportunities for our City Relief community.
The World Needs More Neighbors
Over the past few weeks, we’ve been exploring what it means to see, welcome, and move toward people experiencing hardship.
We began with a man in the South Bronx who taught me that while people experiencing poverty are often recipients of ministry, they may also be the people through whom God ministers to the rest of us.
Then we considered the difference between Disney and the DMV, and why our processes should always serve people, not the other way around.
How Many People Do We Miss Because We Never Look Up?
Over the last two weeks, I’ve written about seeing people differently and creating spaces where they feel genuinely welcomed. Last week, I argued that our processes should exist to serve people, not the other way around.
But even the best process cannot help someone who never finds their way through our doors. Welcoming people when they come to us matters. We must also practice looking up, stepping outside, and moving toward those who may never ask for help.
A Wide Open Door Can Only Help When You Can Find It
Last week, I wrote about the difference between Disney and the DMV—and why our processes should always exist to serve people, not the other way around.
But there is another question we need to ask: What about the people who never make it through our doors in the first place?
We can create the most welcoming church, compassionate nonprofit, or accessible social-service program imaginable. We can improve our signs, simplify our paperwork, train our volunteers, and fill our buildings with people who genuinely care.
All of that matters.
Our Process Exists to Serve People—Not the Other Way Around
Disney and the DMV are both effective organizations, but they make you feel very different. My kids would vehemently protest if I invited them to spend an afternoon running errands with me. Tell them we’re going to Disney, however, and I’d get a very different response.
At Disney, nearly every detail is designed around the guest experience. Signs help you find your way, employees anticipate your questions and are trained to make every problem less… problematic. There are shops offering food, toys, and games, and there are characters everywhere ready to pose for photos. The environment communicates: “We knew you were coming, and we’re glad you’re here.”
What If We Need The Poor More Than The Poor Need Us?
For years, I assumed my role was simple. I had something to offer. People experiencing poverty had needs, and my job was to help.
Then one afternoon in the South Bronx, everything changed.
I met a man sitting alone on a street corner. He was an older African American gentleman with a gray beard and a scar that permanently closed one eye. I offered to bring him a bowl of our famous City Relief soup. He politely declined. I offered him a hot chocolate. Again, he said no.
Running out of ideas, I asked, “Would you like me to pray for you?”
He smiled and replied, “No thanks… but I’d like to pray for you.”
Give. Volunteer. Advocate. Pray.
Summer is a strange season to lead a nonprofit. On one hand, I love it. The days are longer. Churches send mission teams. Students volunteer. Families gather outside. There’s an energy to summer that feels hopeful.
On the other hand, it can be one of the most challenging seasons for organizations like City Relief. When school lets out and families head on vacation, routines change—including charitable giving. Consider this: research suggests that roughly 20–30% of annual online giving can happen in December alone, with as much as 10% occurring in the final three days of the year.
Why We Hide Homelessness When the Circus Comes to Town (or the World Cup)
If you are anything like me, you probably got swept up in the excitement of the World Cup over the last six weeks. You may or may not know that I grew up in the West African country of Cameroon, where football—or, as Americans call it, “soccer”—is basically a religion.
I’ll never forget the collective citywide groans and cheers I witnessed as a kid whenever the Cameroon national team scored a goal (or almost scored a goal), or when a referee made a questionable call on the pitch—or “field.”
The Absence of Protection
I stepped outside the other day to take my dog for a walk, and the smell of smoke hit me immediately. The sky had an eerie orange tint. For a brief moment, I wondered if I’d somehow wandered into The Book of Eli—a post-apocalyptic world where water was more valuable than gold. Then I remembered the Canadian wildfires.
4,991 is Just The Tip of the Iceberg
4,991. That’s the number of people counted sleeping on the streets of New York City on the night of March 10, 2026—the highest HOPE Count since the survey began.
If you’ve been reading these newsletters, you know I often describe homelessness as an iceberg. The people counted in the HOPE survey represent only the visible tip. These are our neighbors who, for any number of reasons, cannot remain in traditional dorm-style shelters. Many are living with serious mental illness, substance use disorder, or both. But they didn’t simply appear on the streets overnight. Most have spent years trying to survive while navigating a maze of fragmented services, outreach programs, hospitals, and interactions with law enforcement.
100+ Degrees - The Deadliest Weather is Here
About ten years ago, my family made the same mistake thousands of others make every year—we took our young kids to Disney World in the middle of the summer.
Our daughter was still little enough that she couldn't walk very far on her own, so she spent most of the day bouncing between her stroller and my shoulders. Between the relentless Florida sun, the heat radiating off the pavement, and miles of walking, I eventually hit my limit. I remember getting to the point where I could barely see through the sweat running into my eyes.
Why "Service Resistant" Doesn't Tell The Whole Story | Veteran Homelessness Week 5
Over the last few weeks, we've explored some of the barriers veterans face when trying to access housing and support. We've talked about documentation, complex systems, instability, and trauma. Last week, we paused to reflect on Juneteenth. This week, I want to return to a topic that intersects with both veteran homelessness and homelessness more broadly: trauma.
In the homelessness services world, the phrase "service resistant" gets used frequently. It's typically used to describe someone who declines help, misses appointments, avoids case managers, or disengages from services. Sometimes the label fits. But after fifteen years of outreach, I've become increasingly skeptical of how often it's used. Because what we often interpret as unwillingness may actually be inability.
The Intersection of Juneteenth, Veterans and Homelessness | Veteran Homelessness Week 4
Honestly, I didn’t learn about Juneteenth until I was an adult. Like many Americans, I made it through years of school without fully understanding why June 19th holds such deep significance for so many of my Black brothers and sisters.
Juneteenth commemorates June 19, 1865, when Union troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, and announced that enslaved people were free, more than two years after President Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation.
Trauma is A Part Of The Story | Veteran Homelessness Week 3
Over the last two weeks, we've explored barriers veterans face when accessing housing, healthcare, and other support. We've discussed missing documentation, complex systems, and the difficulty of navigating resources while in crisis.
This week, I want to explore something less visible: trauma.
Before we go further, it's worth acknowledging that the word trauma is used frequently these days. Sometimes it accurately describes genuinely life-altering experiences. Other times it's used more casually for situations that were uncomfortable, frustrating, or disappointing.
As a result, many people have grown skeptical of the term. The more broadly it's applied, the harder it can be to recognize and respond to trauma when it's truly present.
Veteran Homelessness And The Three Barriers That Fuel It | Week 2
Last week, I wrote about the progress our country has made in reducing veteran homelessness. Since 2010, veteran homelessness has been cut by more than half nationwide!
That's remarkable progress.
But it also raises an important question: If housing programs, healthcare benefits, disability assistance, and other resources exist specifically for veterans, why do thousands of veterans still experience homelessness every night?
After fifteen years of street outreach, I've learned that the challenge is often not the absence of help. It's access. At City Relief, we regularly meet veterans who qualify for support but struggle to obtain it. While every story is different, three barriers come up again and again.
How Does Someone Serve Their Country and Still End Up Homeless? Week 1
A few years ago, I was sitting on a sidewalk in New York City talking with a man who had served in the military. As we spoke, he told me about his years of service, the places he had been stationed, and some of the challenges he faced after returning home. He wasn’t looking for sympathy. He wasn’t angry. In many ways, he was simply trying to survive another day.
What struck me most wasn’t his story. It was the question his story raised. How does someone serve their country and still end up homeless?
Over the next few weeks, I want to explore that question.
The Crisis is Layered. The Solution Must Be Too. | Our Efforts Week 7
Over the last few weeks, we’ve talked about Housing First, Shelter First, and Enforcement First. And if there’s one thing I hope this series has made clear, it’s this: Homelessness is not a simple problem with a single “one size fits all” solution.
It’s an ocean fed by many rivers: rising housing costs, trauma, mental illness, addiction, disability, economic instability, family breakdown, and systems that are often too complicated to navigate while in crisis.
Which means no single solution can carry the full weight of the problem on its own.
What "Enforcement First" Actually Looks Like | Our Efforts Week 6
And to be fair, those frustrations are real. No one wants neighborhoods to feel unsafe. No one wants people living in crisis on sidewalks or public transit systems. Communities deserve solutions too.
But here’s the question we have to wrestle with honestly: What happens when enforcement becomes the primary strategy before viable alternatives actually exist? Because for someone like James, enforcement doesn’t resolve homelessness. It simply makes homelessness harder to survive.
Shelter Isn't Housing - Here's Why That Matters | Our Efforts Week 5
Last week, I introduced you to James. A man who, on paper, qualified for help, but in reality, couldn’t access it. Not because he didn’t want it. Not because help didn’t exist. But because the system required something he didn’t have: stability.
And that’s exactly why approaches like Housing First were created. Because for someone like James, asking him to get stable before giving him housing is like asking him to solve the problem without the very thing that makes a solution possible.
But to really understand why that matters and why the conversation around homelessness can feel so confusing, we need to get clear on something foundational:The difference between shelter and housing.
Housing First, Not Housing Only - Our Efforts Week 4
So even though help technically existed, it remained out of reach. That gap between eligibility and accessibility is where people like James get stuck. Which brings us to one of the most talked-about approaches to homelessness: Housing First.
Housing First began in the early 1990s through the work of Sam Tsemberis in New York City. At the time, most programs required people to prove they were “housing ready” before being given access to permanent housing.
Housing First flipped that.
One Size Does Not Fit All - Our Efforts Week 3
One of the things that makes our work at City Relief so difficult to quantify is that no two experiences of homelessness are the same. I often remind people in training sessions that every person we meet brings a different story, and that story shapes what stability actually looks like for them.
The path forward for a man in his forties whose marriage fell apart isn’t the same as it is for a senior trying to survive while the cost of living keeps rising faster than their fixed income can handle. And it certainly isn’t the same for a young person who just aged out of the foster care system with nowhere stable to land, as it is for a woman fleeing a domestic violence situation with little more than the clothes on her back.