The first in a three-part series honoring Black History Month 2023.

In Seattle, Elders Serving Elders

If these are meant to be the retirement years, nobody told Margaret Boddie or Charlotte Jacobs. But then, these two are hardly the retiring kind. Inactivity doesn’t suit them well, especially when they perceive an unmet need that they could help fulfill.

With a combined 155 years of wisdom between them, they make up an integral part of a small staff serving exactly the demographic they have grown into — Black seniors in the Seattle region. Margaret directs and Charlotte is a care coordinator for the African American Elders Program, a project of Catholic Community Services of Western Washington (CCSWW).

A Special Initiative

Originally an initiative of the city of Seattle, which still funds it, and created by Margaret, now a youthful 81, the program been a part of CCSWW for almost two decades, as has Margaret.

“I didn’t plan to stay for three years, but it’s been 18 and a half years now,” she said with a laugh. A former high school teacher, she had intended to leave her city job and pursue a PhD in social cultural anthropology. Instead, she moved to CCSWW to continue serving seniors, a move she has never regretted, although getting a doctorate is still one of her dreams. “It’s been a remarkable experience. Wonderful.”

She thought up the program while still a city employee after realizing that Black seniors simply weren’t on Seattle’s radar in the early 2000s.

“We worked with all populations, but we saw that with the African American population, they were not getting their just dues,” said Margaret of the hole in their services. “There was no special initiative to help these frail elders.”

Staying at Home

Today, Margaret’s staff of five care coordinators and a full-time nurse works with about 130 clients and another 65 or so caregivers to support them in keeping chronically ill or disabled seniors in their houses and out of nursing facilities.

To qualify for the program, seniors must not only meet health requirements, they must be low-income or living below the poverty level. Most get by on a combination of Social Security and disability benefits; some also have retirement income, such as a pension from a longtime job. They usually come to the program through referrals by hospital discharge planners, the fire department and local doctors, many of whom know the program well.

Because of longtime social inequities — including lack of access to good medical care and healthy food options — the program’s clients tend to have poorer health outcomes than they might otherwise. Their experiences have led many to distrust the medical establishment, which is why a key component of the program’s success is that the staff, who are all African American, look like the people they serve.

Setting Goals, Opening Up

“That’s an advantage, coming from an African American perspective in our culture and not trusting the system,” said Charlotte who, at 74, is the program’s second-oldest staff member, next to Margaret; the rest have not reached retirement age … yet.

With a background in social work, Charlotte looks at the whole picture of a client’s life during home visits, which she conducts at least monthly, as well as a phone call at least every month. She and her colleagues have about 35 clients each. After an initial, comprehensive assessment, Charlotte draws up a service plan that includes the diagnosis, medications, physical therapy appointments, transportation options, any behavioral health issues and what income restrictions the client has.

She and the client then set goals, which might include taking their medication regularly or modifying their diet so they’re eating more fruits and vegetables. The latter can be particularly challenging, said Charlotte, since clients may have been eating a certain way for a long time and because, she said, people like what they like.

The program’s care coordinators do their best to establish a good rapport with both the elder and their caregiver, who is often a family member. And as people live longer, adult children caregivers are often seniors, themselves. Helping connect them to the necessary resources, both for their parents and for themselves, is part of the job.

Simple Joys

One seemingly simple but highly impactful service, said Margaret, is arranging for friendly visitors to come by the house, whether for conversation or perhaps to read to a senior whose eyesight might be failing.

“We try to figure out what they like. Sometimes they’ll tell you they want somebody to come and read the Bible to them,” she said. “Well, we find out if they were involved with their faith or a certain church and get somebody to come volunteer to talk or read to them.”

Other common needs are transportation and mobility. One of Charlotte’s clients, a woman she’s been seeing for about five years, uses a wheelchair and suffers from obesity. At one time, the woman had been a regular at a local senior center, visiting several times each week.  

“She loved going there, especially when the cook would fix fried chicken or catfish,” said Charlotte. But once she could no longer walk, she couldn’t leave the house, because it lacked a ramp.

“It really, really helped, and it really built up her self-esteem,” said Charlotte. “She’s just a joy.”

Grounded in Faith

Charlotte enjoys when clients reminisce on days gone by and she learns about their past and where they come from. That helps to create a connection between client and care coordinator. A Seattle native, she’s listened as some of her clients talked about growing up in the segregated South, picking cotton and relying on home remedies for ailments because doctors wouldn’t care for them. Stories like that make Charlotte particularly mindful of helping clients to not just navigate the healthcare system but to build trust in it as a way to improve their lives.

“That’s one of the things that’s so good about this program,” she said. “Some of them may be able to live a little bit longer and healthier if they go to the doctor and take their medications.”

With work this meaningful, Charlotte and Margaret don’t see themselves slowing down anytime soon. In fact, as they’ve aged, Charlotte’s two back surgeries and Margaret’s double knee replacement — she’s a former runner — have only made them more empathetic and more committed to serving their elders.

“I’m very passionate about populations that need help,” said Margaret, who appreciates that CCSWW’s mission is grounded in faith. To her, the work is “a spiritual thing. It’s like saving a life. That’s what we do.”

The second in a three-part series honoring Black History Month 2023.

On a Pathway to a Better Life

Strangely enough, the truest measure of India Brown’s success might be that she missed her own graduation. The mother of four had asked if she could speak at the ceremony to mark her completion of the Pathways to Progress program last September, and after six years of steady effort, she’d certainly earned the right. But despite having made enormous strides in personal and financial stability, she appeared to be a no-show that day.

Sandy Watson, her member advisor, was puzzled by India’s absence; she’d been so excited for it. When Sandy finally got her on the phone, India had an explanation: She’d gotten a promotion that day at the job she’d held steadily for a year, and she had to work. She simply couldn’t leave.

Sandy relates the story now with a laugh, although she quickly notes India’s disappointment and that they recorded the ceremony for her to watch later. She also tips her hat to India’s work ethic.

“She has excellent work skills. She has excellent people skills,” says Sandy, who advised India one-on-one for five years in a relationship that she describes as “kind of like being a mother. You’re trying to show them the way to do things, the way to get things done.”

At Just the Right Time

A project of St. Francis Community Services, one of the federated ministries of Catholic Charities of St. Louis, Pathways to Progress was begun in 2016, in part as a response to the unrest in Ferguson and St. Louis that followed the 2014 shooting death of Michael Brown.

Now 38 and one of the program’s original participants, India is in many ways an ideal spokesperson for Pathways. She’s been working at the Society of St. Vincent de Paul thrift store processing center for almost 18 months and has gotten two raises and a promotion. She’s improving her credit and parenting her children with more patience, advising the younger ones against fighting in school and the two oldest on how to budget their money wisely.

When she enrolled in the program in 2016, she was on federal probation for a forgery charge of passing a bad check to buy food for her two little ones, now 11 and 13, she says. Her probation officer saw India’s potential and encouraged her to apply; a criminal record isn’t necessarily disqualifying for participation in Pathways.

“This program came at just the right time. With all the resources that they offered,” including assistance crafting a professional resume and a staff lawyer who helped clear up her driving record, “it was everything I had been struggling with – employment, housing, budgeting,” says India.  

Facing the Future with Optimism

With a felony conviction, finding a job was challenging – hide the conviction and get fired when they find out; admit it and don’t get hired at all – and with traffic tickets on her record, she couldn’t drive. (The St. Louis area is infamous for its multiple municipalities, all of which might issue citations to the same vehicle for the same offense on the same day, resulting in escalating fines that tend to ensnare low-income citizens in a downward spiral of debt.)

It helps that St. Vincent de Paul is a frequent collaborator of Pathways, with each providing referrals to the other’s services. It helps even more that India, who was motivated to begin with, has grown and matured in the last six years, from a woman she describes as “broken” to one who has financial and career goals, with plans to save for a newer car and ultimately a home of her own, possibly in another state where she has relatives.

Her energy when she talks about the future, just before her afternoon shift starts one day, is palpable.

The Most Precious Thing

While the model of providing wraparound services – counseling, case management, parenting skills, life skills training, financial literacy, housing assistance, job training, legal guidance and more – isn’t necessarily new, one thing that makes Pathways different from similar programs may be its length.

“Our motivation was to create a program that truly gives what people need most as they are struggling to overcome poverty, which is time. The most precious thing is time,” says Karen Wallensak, the program’s interim director. “So many programs have limitations – six months, one year, you’re done. And for families that are generationally poor, that simply isn’t enough time.”

With six case managers and 68 active participants, Pathways isn’t large, but it’s making a big difference in the lives of those it serves. The program typically takes a little more than three years to complete, although COVID caused a prolonged delay for India and her cohort because it prevented home visits during the height of the pandemic. Clients – or members, as they’re called – are primarily single mothers and overwhelmingly African American. The member advisors are primarily African American.

“I think a lot of our clients trust us because we look like them,” says Sandy, who never has more than a dozen advisees at any given time. Three of her members graduated last year, and seven will graduate this year.

Keeping in Touch

Sandy and her colleagues do home visits with members, to see how the whole family is doing, and try to meet in person at least twice a month. That face time is supplemented by phone calls, emails or texts, whatever works best for the member. In India’s case, their meetings last year usually took place during her lunch break at St. Vincent de Paul.

Most members come to the program through word of mouth, and graduates are encouraged to continue attending regular workshops. Two are offered each month, one on life skills and the other on employment. This spring, they’ll host a special workshop on preparing a tax return.

“They want to come, and we want them to come,” says Sandy, who appreciates the opportunity to touch base with her former advisees. “We like them to talk to the current members and talk about what worked for them, what didn’t work and what they should be doing to become better members. We want them to talk about their experiences in Pathways.”

Sandy then recounts the story of a current member, one of her advisees, whose daughter attends a local Catholic high school. The mother is struggling with tuition payments, so when Sandy learned of a scholarship opportunity, she immediately forwarded the information. She happened to be at the office later than usual that day, and the woman called.

“I was glad I picked up the phone,” says Sandy. “She kept thanking me for sending that scholarship info to her and said she planned on applying first thing tomorrow.  Her call was a great way to end my day and I was glad to share the resource.”   

Resource and wisdom sharing are two of the program’s strengths, and they’re part of the reason families like India’s are moving their lives into a better space, with renewed hope for what lies ahead.

“Being able to look back and think how far I’ve come and everything that I’ve accomplished,” is huge, says India.

The last in a three-part series honoring Black History Month 2023.

Serving a Great Southern City 

For Angela Taylor-Gray and Jacqueline Haynes, staff members at Catholic Charities Inc., of Jackson, the work they do in Mississippi’s capital is more than a job. As proud natives of the “City with Soul,” they don’t just serve the community, they’re members of it. Service and giving back have long been a part of their lives. 

Angela comes from a military family — her mother and stepfather, as well as her grandmother, who raised her, are all Army veterans. While Angela didn’t up enlisting — “That was not my path,” she said — today she works with veterans in her chosen field of social services. 

Jacqueline’s parents impressed upon her the importance of giving back and steered her toward clinical counseling as a career choice.

Angela has been with Catholic Charities for just over two years and Jacqueline for more than 17. In their years with the agency, they’ve helped to house veterans, place unaccompanied refugee children with loving families and find rehab placements for those with substance use disorders. In the last year alone, they’ve also had to navigate compounding, community-wide emergencies: historic flooding, a freak winter storm that burst pipes and put vulnerable citizens at risk of hypothermia and a devastating water crisis that affected the entire city.  

For the people who live in Catholic Charities of Jackson’s 65 counties, “It’s our mission to be a visible sign of Christ’s love,” said Angela. “It can be a taxing job, but if there’s something we can do to assist you, we do it.”  

The Face of Service 

Angela’s job is two-fold, although it didn’t start out that way. She splits her time between Supportive Services for Veteran Families — she was hired as the program director — and Disaster Preparedness and Response, which she took on when the previous director left. Her background is with Medicaid and the state Department of Rehabilitation, working with individuals receiving Social Security Disability benefits.  

Her previous jobs kept her tied to her desk and her telephone, but with Catholic Charities, she’s in the field much of the time, using her people skills, as well as her family knowledge of military life and the challenges that can come after service to country ends.  

She works with veterans of all ages and has recently noticed an increase in women vets with children, as well as more veterans coming to Jackson from surrounding states. The majority of her clients are African-American, and their needs range from shelter to hunger to long-term case management. She might be working on rapid rehousing for a client one day and helping another with budgeting and food resources the next.  

Jacqueline started out as a therapist, working with refugee youth and adults who were being resettled in Jackson. Over the years, she became assistant program director for unaccompanied refugee minors, then program director and then, three years ago, social services director for the agency. She doesn’t have as much direct client engagement today as she used to and spends more of her time as an administrator.  

“Sometimes I do miss getting out of the office and building relationships and meeting people,” she said. “I miss that gratification, especially when a person thanks you, and you can see the change you made in their lives.”  

Seeing the Change  

Asked to recall some favorite client stories, these two don’t miss a beat. Angela immediately speaks fondly of a veteran who said right up front that his primary need was treatment for substance use disorder. She found him a spot in a year-long rehab program with a catch: in order to live there and take part in the program, he’d have to work there, too.  

“He said, ‘Hey, I can work. Let’s go,’” she recalled. “He didn’t care about housing. The first thing he said was, ‘I need to get clean.’”  

Angela kept tabs on him and was happy to hear he was staying clean and had gotten back in contact with his estranged family; he was making plans to see them again for the first time in many years. “That sticks with me,” she said.  

Another man, who’s still a client, had been homeless since his military discharge, decades ago. He was sleeping on a bench in a downtown park and had only a backpack with him, his sole possession, Angela recalled. Today, he lives in his own apartment.  

“He loves it. He takes pride in his home and doesn’t want to move,” she said  

For Jacqueline, two refugee children — teenage girls, with no one to take them in — stand out in her memory. The first was a 15-year-old Sudanese girl with a tough attitude who made it clear she did not want to be in Jackson.  

“I don’t like this place. I won’t be here for long,” Jacqueline remembers her saying, quite adamantly. She was placed with a Caucasian woman with no children, but Jacqueline had a hunch it would be a good fit and that the woman was equal to the challenge. Shortly after that, Jacqueline placed a Latina girl in the same home.  

Today, the two are long grown, married and have families of their own. They call each other “sister,” and the woman who took them in is “mom” and “grandma.” Both thrived and went to college. The Latina woman works as a paralegal for a local law firm that specializes in immigration legal services, while the Sudanese woman now lives in Houston and formerly worked as a culture specialist/case manager/translator for refugee children with Catholic Charities of Jackson.  

A Crisis Boils Over  

Angela was relatively new to disaster work in 2022 when there was flooding in the Delta region, followed by a spring tornado and a rare hard freeze at the start of winter. As Jackson natives, Angela and Jacqueline were deeply affected by the challenge of the subsequent water crisis.  

When the county’s water system collapsed in fall 2022, it was after months of boil-water notices — more than 202,000 last year alone. Still, the fact of having no potable water at all — for drinking, bathing, cooking, anything — was a shock to residents of Hinds County, with a population that is 83% African American. Many taps discharged brown sludge, while others produced nothing at all. 

If people needed it, they tried to get it. Donations came in from local and national companies, Catholic Charities USA and even Good Samaritans who were just passing through the city. 

“Before that, I hadn’t dabbled in disaster,” said Angela, with the nonchalance of a pro. Today, she’s part of a multi-agency group that is forming a long-term recovery committee for future disasters. They anticipate that the water supply will continue to be a problem until the issue of deteriorating, neglected infrastructure is resolved.  

The root cause of the water system’s collapse is not a problem Angela and Jacqueline can solve, which is a challenge for these women of action. That this indignity is happening to their city, Mississippi’s capital, and primarily to residents who look like them, is an added source of frustration. But it doesn’t stop them from doing their jobs and helping clients as they are able.  

“There’s only so much we can do, but advocating, getting out there, making sure you’re trying to meet the needs in the community — that’s really important to me,” said Angela. “The thing is, I was born and raised in Hinds County, in Jackson. That’s home.”