Week 7: We Heal in Community

Let's talk about the kind of healing that can't be prescribed.

When we think about recovery, we tend to focus on professional care—therapy, medication, treatment plans. And yes, those things matter. A lot. But for many people experiencing homelessness and mental illness, recovery doesn't begin in a clinic. It begins with connection. It begins when someone looks you in the eye and says, "I see you. You matter."

Isolation isn't just a side effect of homelessness and mental illness; it's often the most painful part. The longer someone is disconnected from family, community, work, and purpose, the harder it is to hold onto a sense of self. And in that silence, the lies grow louder: You're too broken. You're too far gone. You're all alone.

That's where community comes in.

I was first introduced to City Relief at a fundraiser in May of 2010. That night, I met a man named Willie. He had been homeless since his teens and spent more than 40 years without a safe place to call home. Every Tuesday in the Bronx, Willie would show up at our outreach site. He rarely spoke to anyone. He'd get his soup and bread and sit quietly on the sidewalk by himself.

Until he met Jean.

Jean was a volunteer who simply refused to let Willie go unseen. She said hello, asked questions, and remembered his name. One day, when Willie landed in the hospital with a serious health issue, Jean tracked him down and visited him—bringing a "Get Well Soon" card and balloons. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't part of a care plan. But it was a turning point.

That night at the fundraiser, Willie told his story. I'll never forget what he said:

"I didn't believe I deserved a different life. A better life. But when Jean visited me in the hospital, I thought, 'if she believed my future was worth fighting for, maybe it was.'"

That's what community does. That's what peer support looks like. It helps people remember they matter.

And there's data to back it up. One study found that people who receive peer support after psychiatric hospitalization are significantly less likely to be readmitted and spend fewer total days in the hospital. Another report showed that over 70% of peer support participants experience improved emotional wellbeing, with 85% reporting increased hope and empowerment—often for the first time in years.

But even without the numbers, we know this: recovery is relational. People heal when they are seen, known, and unconditionally loved.

So as we continue to push for systemic change—affordable housing, quality mental health care, access to services—let's not overlook the power of human connection. Because sometimes, what changes a life isn't a program. It's a person.

See you next week for the final message in this series.

With Gratitude,

Josiah Haken

City Relief, CEO