I’m the one who built Homeless No More from the ground up, from a no-way-is-that-even-possibleidea to a bustling nonprofit. What that meant and means is securing grants, getting legislation changed,an unceasing flow of application forms, funding forms, forms for this, forms for that, and on and onuntil my brain melts and leaks out of my ears.
But the sight of just one street person’s face lighting up at hearing they’re getting access to housing, oranother who has landed their first job in a decade, is all it takes to remind me that all the hard work isworth it.
I hear a knock at my door.
“Come in, Mario,” I say, bracing myself against my wood laminate desk in readiness.
He bursts in, red face, whites visible around his bulging eyes. “Joy Karen Vaknin!” I roll my eyes. Iknew I shouldn’t
