The Sophia Way serves womxn experiencing homelessness in King County—that number was already rising, particularly among those age 55 and older, before COVID-19 hit.

When Alisa Chatinsky stepped in as executive director of The Sophia Way, a non-profit that serves womxn experiencing  homelessness in King County, the realities of a global pandemic were just dawning on Washington state.

She’d just moved to the Pacific Northwest from her home state of Arizona, familiarizing herself with the community of womxn from around King County who relied on The Sophia Way for shelter, food, and other services. But stay-at-home orders beginning in March had her on a much steeper learning curve than she anticipated.

As coffee shops, libraries, and other safe places that womxn might spend their days shut down, they turned to The Sophia Way, and other places like it, while the organizations themselves were adjusting to new rules for masking, social distancing, and more. “It kinda came on fast and furious,” said Chatinsky. “We were seeing upwards of 120 womxn a day.” 

The organization’s two shelters, 48-bed day shelter Helen’s Place and extended-stay, 21-space Sophia’s Place, were opened 24 hours a day, seven days a week but had to reduce capacity to allow for social distancing, even as more womxn were showing up. Other complications took root as well: How would social distancing work in their shelters? How would they handle food? “All of our food is donated, people come in with homemade meals; we were told we couldn’t do that either.”

With assistance from King County, the non-profit rented a hotel to add capacity and create some ability to social distance; they also also reduced Helen’s Place to a capacity of 38.  

A patchwork of organizations like The Sophia Way comprise much of the safety net available for people without homes in King County. They’re all stretched thin, dealing with a rising tide of people who are becoming homeless. The pandemic, which has brought record unemployment levels to the state, has further stressed the system.

The Sophia Way is based in Bellevue, but womxn find their way to its shelters from all over, says Chatinsky. While most are from around King County, others come from outside of the county and even out of state; for example, they may have arrived to stay with a relative but it didn’t work out, she says. 

Seventy percent of the womxn at The Sophia Way report escaping domestic abuse as a reason they are homeless. Other reasons include lack of funds for housing and lack of access to healthcare, which includes mental health support.

Alarmingly, womxn over the age of 55 are a fast-growing part of the population of those who are homeless, most for the first time. At The Sophia Way, they comprise 30% of the community.

“We’ve had womxn as old as 89 years old, shuffling in with a walker with all of their belongings. And that’s heartbreaking.” Reasons vary, but can be because they were caregivers (a role that falls on womxn and disproportionately on womxn of color and immigrants) and the person they were caring for passes away, leaving them nowhere else to go. Rising rents or overwhelming medical and prescription drug expenses also factor in. In some cases, says Chatinsky, support can be a matter of connecting people with money or assistance that they were unaware was available to them.

“One woman we were able to help, we found out that she had money from her husband’s veterans benefits,” says Chatinsky. In another case, caseworkers found out that the woman was a veteran herself and didn’t know she could access housing faster because of that status.

Check-ins and follow ups are key. Case managers continue to help many of the womxn who they have transitioned into housing, connecting with them regularly to make sure they have what they need. They help them get into sobriety programs, make sure they have enough food, or assist with doctor appointments. “They know if they get in a pickle they can come to us,” says Chatinsky. 

The organization’s work illustrates the ways in which conversations around homelessness in King County are often lacking. “We talk about affordable housing,” says Chatinsky. “What we need is low-income housing and we need low-income housing with supports, because many of the womxn that we serve will continue to need support even after they’re housed.”

Also key? Staff diversity, reflecting the community they serve. “Half the womxn we serve are womxn of color [as is] half our staff,” says Chatinsky, though they are working to increase that number, particularly in senior leadership. They’re providing more opportunities to join the organization via different pathways, such as offering education stipends. “If I can offer somebody an opportunity to grow with our organization, I’m certainly going to do it.”

Last spring, King County announced the development of the King County Regional Homelessness Authority, a governing body that is intended to tackle homelessness on a county-wide level. However, partly due to the pandemic, they’re still looking for a director to lead it.

Chatinsky says that while she approves of some of King County’s initiatives, for example its plan to buy hotels to use for housing, it’s not a complete solution by a long shot.

“We need support, we can’t just put a woman in a hotel room and expect her to succeed. How do we get them their meals? How do we get them the counseling they need, how do we get them the services that they need? That’s the part that’s hard to fund.”

For its part, The Sophia Way has one part-time mental health counselor. “Every time there’s new funding it’s for putting [womxn] in houses, but you want to make sure they succeed once they get there.”

Many womxn without housing have trauma, whether from childhood, from abuse, from being sex trafficked, “Or simply being homeless is traumatic enough,” explains Chatinsky. Getting them comfortable enough to open up and share and work through their trauma is important—but that’s hard to do without enough mental health care.

“The most important thing about what we do is we meet womxn where they are—and that’s physically and psychologically,” says Chatinsky. Rather than being prescriptive and telling them what they need to do, which will just shut many people down, “We have to be coming from a place of, ‘I’m here to support you. How can we make that happen?’”

The Sophia Way has been lucky, says Chatinsky, that it hasn’t had a coronavirus case. It’s luck because the circumstances of homelessness make it difficult to apply necessary measures, such as social distancing. Mitigating homelessness is fundamentally at odds with elements of the pandemic, a struggle for other homeless organizations as well. Even mask wearing can feel like one more barrier to connection. “For these womxn, it’s their home,” says Chatinsky. “So how would you like to have to be home and wear your mask?”

The Sophia Way has recently drawn up a strategic framework to come up with more creative solutions to the low-income housing shortage. Among those ideas are master-leased shared homes (property leased by a non-profit to sub-lease to residents) to use as transitional housing. The organization currently has two such properties, one with six residents and one with three. 

Another idea is to have seniors living in the community share their homes (and expenses) with others who need housing. Also, along the lines of the hotels, Chatinsky says, “We know we’re going to have a lot of empty malls and a lot of empty businesses, how can we reimagine that into housing?” She also notes the benefits of a “campus of care” concept, where frequently needed things like medical, dental, and substance abuse services are available in one easy-to-access location.

“It’s everybody’s issue, it’s everybody’s problem,” says Chatinsky. “It’s the foundations, it’s the corporations, it’s the individuals, and it’s the government. We cannot solely rely on the government to fix us and we cannot solely rely on the public sector either.”

As for today, while Governor Jay Inslee has extended the eviction moratorium until March 31st, that date is fast approaching: “I know once this eviction moratorium ends—it scares the hell out of me,” says Chatinsky. “The bottom line is that we don’t have any housing. Why do people end up staying with us for so long? They have no place to go.” By Niki Stojnic