Transcriber: Mariya Zhdanova Reviewer: Rhonda Jacobs
We don't know what homelessness look like,
but I invite you to share my perspective.
A few years ago I owned a cafe,
Red Emma's Worker Cooperative,
with some friends.
And LGBTQ youth would come and frequent our store,
maybe to see me,
one of the few trans women
owning a business in Baltimore city,
or maybe the books and coffee.
I don't know.
But at the end of the night,
when we turned off the espresso machine
and closed the doors,
I could see who didn't have anywhere to go
in my community.
And all we had to give them
was bread and old soup.
So I could also see who in my community
had spare bedrooms.
And that's why my friends and I decided to do more.
We decided we could match those extra bedrooms
with those houseless siblings, friends, community members.
We began doing so -
you'd be surprised how far you can get with Excel spreadsheets and Facebook.
(Laughter)
It's great stuff, high tech.
And when we looked up, we realized around the region,
people are doing exactly the same thing:
in DC, in New York.
Everyone is housing our own.
So I was surprised
when the social workers started calling the local barista and coffee house owner
to house their clients.
Right?
What we didn't know was social workers cannot use Instagram and Facebook
or any social media to talk to their clients.
The waiting list for an emergency shelter
is 14 days.
And if you're trans like I am,
you're looking at a 76% chance of getting attacked
or worse in those shelters.
Now it made sense why they're coming to me.
So the federal government gets this:
housing and urban development
is pushing towards new models in rapid rehousing,
one of which are host home programs.
So the social workers
who are implementing these host home programs throughout the country
are coming together:
there are organizations like Point Source Youth.
And they're supporting each other,
but they have tools built for brick-and-mortar shelters;
and they're trying to run this decentralized network of hosts,
like what Airbnb's doing,
and it's not really working out.
Some of them still have paper and pencil over here.
It's time; it's a space for us to play in together.
So we assembled a team,
and now HostHome was born.
We built software for those social workers in the trenches of homeless services,
where time matters.
The team has grown.
We have Gavriel Legynd,
the CEO, transgender, black man, rabbi, CEO of Visioneer IT.
We have Missy,
otherwise known as the artist QueenEarth.
And we are the core.
We are rooted in this community because each of us is LGBT,
and we are uniquely positioned to build this with our domain expertise.
I don't know another trans woman
who hasn't taken in a sibling for a few nights in an emergency,
who hasn't taken in another trans person for a few nights in need.
We're already doing this.
We've been doing this forever!
Actually, it's why I'm here in this room.
Yes, I'm the founder of HostHome.
Yes, I've been a host.
But I've also been a guest.
I believe that growing host home programs out of our existing shelter system,
connecting those community-grown solutions
with the scaled, government- supported solution
can be as seamless as leaves growing out of a tree.
I see a future where one of those baristas back at Red Emma's
turn off the espresso machine
and lock the door at the end of the night.
Everyone has a bed to go home to.
Thank you for the honor.
(Applause)
(Cheers)