Social Crisis Intervention & Guidance Officer

8/10/2019 Social Crisis Intervention & Guidance Officer

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Socio-Economic Improvement

Plan

Social Crisis Intervention and

Guidance Officer

JP Steinberg

Professor Barnes

POLI-161 Honors

Ocean County College Fall 2014


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I. Coming Home: Assessment

This project manifested as the result of much day-dreaming and imagining living in a society

where an individual or family could reach out to its community for a helping hand, in a time of

great need, and receive it. The particular idea, outlined following this recount, came about after

my family and I were approaching the end of a highly turbulent time of couch-surfing and much

controversy with The Ocean County Board of Social Services (OCBOSS). At the time, I just

served about nine months of a one year sentence after having had a brush with the law in

Baltimore, Maryland and, upon reuniting with my wife, Mary, and oldest child, spent three

months living with friends and family until we exhausted every option we could think of and

found ourselves faced with outright imminent homelessness.

About a month after my arrest in Baltimore, my wife was evicted from our one bedroom

apartment in Jackson, NJ. It had become impossible for her to maintain the rent and utilities, in

addition to caring for our daughter, after having been a stay-at-home mom for about a year and

having relied heavily on my income. Not only was the financial burden too great, she was

experiencing tremendous emotional distress due to the present circumstance.

Mary was receiving unemployment benefits as well as a nominal amount of food stamps

which was just enough to feed herself and our daughter, keep the electricity on and have some

money to keep gas in her vehicle to get around. She paid what portion of the rent she could

afford, but wound up falling too far behind for the management to forgo eviction proceedings.

From jail, several states away, there was very little I could do other than advise her and insist that

she go to the few agencies and organizations that I had heard of such as O.C.E.A.N. Inc., Social

Services and several local churches. Everywhere she went the response was the same; they told

her they were unable to help because the couple of hundred dollars a week she was receiving


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from unemployment was too great to qualify for any sort of benefits and assistance. I felt

desperate and overwhelmingly helpless; I could only imagine what she was going through.

I was arrested in mid-August, by October she was officially evicted and given a couple of

weeks to vacate the property. Fortunately a few family members and friends were able to come

help her move our belongings into storage at a relatives house and her and my daughter were

able to crash at a friends place temporarily. Between then and the time I came home from jail

they engaged in the proverbial couch surf, bouncing from one place to another until finally being

allowed to stay somewhat indefinitely with a friend of the family in Neptune.

Of course, its one thing to couch surf on your own, its another to do so with a child and yet

even more complicated and troublesome with two adults and a child which was the case when I

was released and had nowhere else to go.

Many jails have reentry programs for inmates which include halfway houses, rehabs and

employment. However, these programs are often tailored to assist inmates serving longer more

considerable sentences, generally more than a year. For those inmates doing short bids in county

jails there is not always enough time to participate in a comprehensive reentry program. And as

in my case, since I was incarcerated in a state where I did not officially reside and did not plan

to, there were no programs available to me other than the few I had already completed while

housed in the facility such as anger management, parenting classes, relapse prevention and yoga.

Since county jails have a high turnover rate and tend to be extremely over populated, social

services are not always able to provide enough resources and counseling to inmates within a

reasonable amount of time so they are often released with little to no options but to fend for

themselves, rely on the charity of friends and family and do whatever it takes to survive. This


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may be one of the most prominent factors leading to higher rates of alcoholism, drug abuse,

relapse and recidivism.

I did take the time, while incarcerated, to formulate my own plan as to how I was going to

matriculate as a viable and productive member of mainstream society once again as I had been

able to many years before having taken a turn down a dark path of mental illness and substance

abuse. I knew it was possible and where there was a will there had to be a better way!

I wrote Mary numerous letters outlining how I planned to come home and ask for temporary

assistance from the government, settle into our own place and I would go to college to get a

degree so that I may be more viably employable. I knew that at almost forty years of age a

simple minimum wage job with no formal education was not going to cut it. We already had one

small mouth to feed and I was sure we would reproduce again. Mary and her family are, for the

most part, Ocean County natives and we wished to remain so. It is a place we are familiar and

comfortable with. When I first came home, the family friend where Mary was staying allowed

me to join her and my daughter for the time being.

Our stay there was not a comfortable one, but it was a roof over our heads and we were

together, which was all that really mattered at the time. After a few days of much needed rest and

re-familiarizing myself with my daughter who was about one and half, we began to revisit what

semblance of a plan we had laid out and explore our options. The accommodations were very

temporary and far less than ideal for a family of three. We felt crowded and unwelcome; the

tension seemed to grow exponentially each day. What benefits I had derived from the yoga and

anger management techniques I learned to practice were diminishing quickly. I feared I would

begin to think my only option was to return to conducting illicit business to raise enough money


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to get my family out of there and in our own home sooner than later. Patience and perseverance

had to be in the top tier of my toolbox of coping skills.

Very quickly, Mary and I realized we werent going to survive on her unemployment and

food stamps alone. She no longer had her vehicle as she was not able to afford to maintain it; she

sold it to a relative for very little. It was an older truck not worth very much and in need of

considerable repair. We had to rely on what limited public transportation is available in

Monmouth and Ocean Counties along with rides from friends and relatives here and there. On

my third day home, Marys friend gave us a ride to the OCBOSS building on Hopper Avenue in

Toms River. This is where it all truly begins to unfold!

Having been incarcerated for close to a year and my family consequently having become

homeless meant that we didnt have a true base of operations where we could keep all of our

belongings valuable or otherwise. We had to share one cell phone which we could barely afford.

Thus making it difficult to keep track of our legal documents such as birth certificates, social

security cards and any other paperwork we might have been asked to produce upon applying for

government benefits. The only address we had to receive mail was Marys momshouse in

Jackson, New Jersey (in Ocean County) from which everyone had to vacate after having fallen

so far behind in the mortgage that she was facing foreclosure and could no longer afford to

maintain any of the utilities. Marysmom, Angela, was not eligible for any assistance from

Social Services or O.C.E.A.N. Inc. due to her level of income. For these reasons we were unable

to stay there as the house was uninhabitable, especially by children.

Anyone who has had to spend a day waiting to be seen by a case worker on the third floor

of building three of OCBOSS on Hooper Avenue knows just how taxing a process it can be, even


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more so with a child in tow. The waiting room is not very accommodating, warm or welcoming

and the atmosphere is generally one of stress and desperation. It is safe to assume the people

sitting around waiting to be seen are not generally in a positive mind frame due to their current

circumstances, which is certainly understandable. The wait times can be long to very excessive

as it was for us that day.

One thing I would like to point out is that, as of then and still to the best of my

knowledge, there is no one to consult with before sitting with a worker and applying for benefits

without disclosing your personal information and situation so as to determine your best course of

action or figure out whether it makes sense to stay until you are called, in case you might not in

fact be appropriate or eligible for any of the services and benefits offered by Social Services.

And if it is determined you and your family are not, there is not a thorough and comprehensive

on site referral service for other agencies and organization in and around the county.

Finally, after a long tiring wait, we were sent upstairs to see a case worker. Mary already

had an open case through which she received enough food stamps for her and our daughter and

Medicaid for the both of them; she did not get cash benefits because her unemployment was

considered too great for a family of two. Upon explaining our present situation, we were advised

that our only option was to add me to her account which would increase the amount of food

stamps and I would probably be approved for Medicaid. I asked if we could receive cash benefits

as well but they assured us that Marys unemployment was calculated as more than enough for a

family of three to live in Ocean County. Needless to say, we left there disappointed to put it

mildly.


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Distraught, frustrated and upset; Mary and I left Social Services late that afternoon, close

to closing time, tired and hungry not in the best of moods. We knew we had to come up with a

solution to our woes much sooner than later. We were wearing out our welcome where we were

staying and our finances were dwindling fast along with our initial happiness to have been

reunited after much time apart. Of course I thought about getting a job, but how was I going to

manage without a stable home base and some semblance of mental health? Where would I find a

job that would see my family housed and fed quickly with a current and considerable criminal

background and no formal education, no decent clothes, no transportation other than the bus line

a few miles walking distance away? There was still the matter of obtaining all the legal

documents required when being hired almost anywhere.

I thought if we could just get some temporary assistance I could carry out my plan to go

to school and work my way towards a viable career. During my incarceration, Mary and I also

discussed the possibility of creating a proposal to try and start a small family mobile food truck

business. We both love to cook, are very good at it and it was an idea that I had brewing for

some time. Regardless of the game plan, things were going to take time; patience and

perseverance were key and maintaining some level of inner peace had to be my primary focus.

Our situation was quickly becoming dire, our host was demanding we give her money

and they were eating all of the food we bought with little to no consideration for our finances.

Sympathy and compassion from friends and family was dwindling fast and understandably so;

everyone had their own hardships to deal with. I had the idea to apply for benefits on my own

since I was not already receiving any sort of benefits, and having been recently released from jail

I figured I would be eligible for food stamps and a small amount of cash. I also knew that if I

went to the local One Stop Career Center I would either get help enrolling in school, become


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eligible for a grant to start business or have a much easier time finding employment as an ex-

convict. Fortunately there was one not far from the house; I was able to walk there.

I was advised by the owner of the house we were staying in that there was a Social

Services office much closer than the one in Toms River on Hooper Avenue, thats when I first

discovered we were in Monmouth County and not Ocean. It didnt matter to me at the time.

Ultimately, it didnt make a difference what county we lived in, the important thing was

following through with our plan and keeping my family together and safe. Within a few days I

was approved for benefits in Monmouth County, now we had almost doubled our income and

felt as if we were on our way towards a goal.

Marys dad rented the basement apartment in the house were we stayed. At first he

welcomed me and we got along. However, as the days passed the novelty began to wear away

rapidly. Mary and I were having a hard time getting along, most likely due to the tremendous

amount of pressure we were under. We had no privacy and very little space. As much as we tried

to respect the fact that we were in fact in someone elses home, we started letting the situation

get the better of us. For me, it was particularly difficult to maintain composure. One day Mary

and I had a pretty nasty argument, we spewed some vulgar language at each other and it was

apparent that everyone in the house heard the whole debacle.

Marys father was very displeased with what had transpired, he and her brother

confronted me about it. I was in no mood to be cornered and interrogated about my relationship

with the mother of my child at such a critical point in time. I was at the point of a breakdown.

My reaction to the confrontation was one of immediate defensiveness which was met with a

punch from Marys dad. The incident didnt go much further than me picking my glasses up off


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the floor and her dad deciding to leave the house for the night. When the rest of Marys family

got wind of what had transpired, her sister, who lived in Jackson at the time, told us to come stay

with her. She lived in a two bedroom apartment just off of County Line Road and her two little

boys only stayed with her on the weekends so it would be far less crowded.

For the most part our stay at her sister Annieshome was pleasant. We had more privacy

and space. We also felt more at home and familiar with the area which gave us some peace of

mind. After a difficult couple of weeks in Neptune and the nine months prior that I spent in jail

and Mary couch-surfing and taking care of our daughter alone we, almost arbitrarily, took a

much needed break from worrying about our plan. We had a little money coming in from our

collective benefits and it seemed as if we would be able to stay with Annie long enough to take

our time and make steady progress.

A couple of weeks passed, I applied for several jobs to no avail. Annie began to insist we

contribute to the rent, to which we were not in any way opposed but we had to agree on a

reasonable amount that we could afford. I do not recall how much we determined we could

manage, it was very little. Unbeknownst to us, Annie was behind in her rent and was receiving

notices from the management warning her top pay up for face eviction proceedings. This only

came to light when Mary began to wonder why her sister was so adamant about us paying her so

much more than she knew we could so she happened to poke around and found one of the letters

from the management on the kitchen counter.

When we confronted her about the situation, she got highly upset and became

unreasonable. We offered to fork over all of the money we had if it would make up enough of the

rent in arrears to avoid an eviction. Instead, she insisted we pack our belongings and leave her


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home as soon as we could. Mary tried to reason with her, her efforts were futile. When Mary

explained to her sister-in-law, Carol, what had befallen, she told us we could come stay with her

in her two bedroom apartment in Seaside Heights where she lived alone.

Carol was an addict in recovery, about 8 months pregnant and living on welfare and

rental assistance. Mary knew her well for years and helped raise her first child during a very

difficult time for Carol. We were very appreciative and grateful to her for allowing us to occupy

what would be her babys room until she actually needed it. She also agreed to accept only fifty

dollars a week from us and we would all buy and prepare food together. She seemed happy to

have company from people who were drug free and were willing to do much of the household

chores which were difficult for her at this stage of her pregnancy.

Carol disclosed to me that she was in active recovery and that she had recently become a

client of Ocean Mental Health through a program they ran called Ocean-CREST, a crisis

intervention facility that does community outreach and crisis response throughout Ocean County.

While incarcerated, I began to practice some beginner yoga, meditation and EFT to alleviate

much of the emotional distress I had been struggling with for years. Since my release and after a

tumultuous time bouncing from one place to another, my regular adherence to a routine of stress

reduction and management practices had diminished greatly. The idea of reaching out to an

organization for help made perfect sense. I called to schedule an assessment and the next day

they came to Carols house and not only did an assessment, they began the intake process.

The following day I planned to go to the Ocean County Courthouse to see what could be

done about settling a pending criminal case I had from 2009 for possession of illicit substances,

at which time I learned that Judge Daniels had issued a warrant for my arrest while I was


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incarcerated in Baltimore. For whatever reason, he would not hear my case that day and decided

to execute the warrant. The court officers remanded me into custody immediately and I wound

up serving ten days in the Ocean County Jail waiting to appear before the Judge.

When I was finally brought into the court room wearing a tan jump suit, hand cuffed and

shackled, I did my best to stand up straight when my name was called. I did my best to remain

calm and collective and attempted to explain to the judge that I had a plan to go to school, to start

a business, that I had been abstinent from recreational substances for a considerable amount of

time and would remain so. Mary, our daughter, Lily, and my dad were in the audience and also

stood up when my case was called. The prosecutor insisted that I was a danger to society and I

should be made to serve one year for the charges I had incurred several years prior.

Fortunately, Judge Daniels is known to be a fair and compassionate man. He saw fit to

release me to two years probation and attached the usual fines associated with such charges. I

have since completed the sentence satisfactorily although I am still chipping away at the fines.

Mary and I returned to Carols place and began to figure out the next steps we needed to

take to become an independent family. Ocean-Crest took me in as a client and referred me to a

therapist and psychiatrist within their agency. I began to attend weekly support groups at their

facility as well. I spent a good portion of every day at the public library using the internet to

research what options were available to families in our situation. I looked for jobs, I looked into

going to college or vocational training, I started to learn about the Small Business Administration

and research what services were available to ex-convicts in recovery. Things seemed to be

coming together slowly but surely.


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One day I came home from the library and Mary had an unexpected, very creative,

surprise set up for me. She liked to bake a lot and was always making some sort of muffins,

cookies or bread. She was sitting at the kitchen table and when I walked in the house, she asked

me to go to the oven and take out the buns she had in there. I put on an oven mitt, opened the

oven door and reached in to grab the baking pan on the top rack. I hadnt realized right away that

the oven was not on and was not hot. As I pulled the pan out and went to place in on the counter

I noticed a pregnancy test where there should have been baked goods. It read as positive of

course. Considering the circumstances, this was not an ideal surprise, none the less I was excited.

Of course, this changed things quite drastically; we not only had to figure out how to feed

and house the three of us, there was soon going to be four!

Very shortly thereafter something changed in the dynamic concerning the relationship

between us and Carol. Within a matter of days she was no longer as warm and friendly as she

was initially. For reasons I cannot be entirely sure of, nor do I wish to speculate, she informed us

we could no longer stay with her. She and Mary got into a pretty nasty fight and exchanged some

harsh words. At that point we were entirely out of places to go, that was it, no more friends or

relatives homes where we could crash. What to do!?!?


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II. Community Resources, Networking and Referrals

We had been made aware of a program run by the Ocean County Board of Social

Services called Special Response whereby homeless individuals and families could be placed in

emergency shelter while waiting to be approved for temporary rental assistance to then find their

own place. It was early enough in the day that we decided to hop on the bus and head over there.

We didnt see any other options; our situation was now absolutely desperate. Special Response is

located in the Social Services complex on Hooper Avenue in Toms River across the parking lot

from the building where people go to apply for welfare. We had never been to that building

before and had no idea what the process entailed. We waited in a long queue before reaching the

receptionists desk where she asked for ID and entered our names into a computer placing us on

an extraordinarily long list to go upstairs and speak with a case worker.

We wound up waiting until closing, 4:30PM, at which time they no longer see potential

clients. Instead, if you are there seeking emergency shelter, they place you in a nearby hotel and

tell you to come back very early the following morning so that your case may be assessed. They

were sure to explain if our names were not among the first to arrive well before 8:00AM we may

have to again wait all day.

We did not have to wait quite as long the following day, perhaps only a few hours. When

called, we were directed to the third floor where we sat at the desk of one of the Special

Response case workers. She began to ask us the usual gamut of questions any case worker would

ask upon performing an assessment and intake. Of course we were forthcoming with every bit of

information pertaining to our income, employment, living arrangements, and whatever personal

identifying information she required. Once we disclosed that Mary was receiving unemployment,

I was receiving benefits from Monmouth County and that we had been crashing with what


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friends and relatives would have us; it became evident that we were not eligible for Special

Response. We were denied assistance and told to go to Monmouth County for help.

It was midday on a Thursday when this took place, fortunately in the middle of summer.

At this point we were entirely out of options and running low on energy and optimism. We

pleaded with the worker, assuring her that we had no place to go and no way to get to Monmouth

County Social Services, let alone before closing time. The worker told us to wait a minute and

left us to go consult with her supervisor. When she returned to her desk she told us that they

would place us in a hotel for the night but that would be the last time. We asked her if there was

any way to avoid going back to Monmouth County because we had no transportation, very little

money for the bus and were more familiar and comfortable with Ocean County where we lived

before my incarceration, where Mary was originally from and where we ultimately planned and

wished to live upon my release from jail.

She advised us that we would have to apply for benefits from the OCBOSS in building

three across the parking lot, where we had initially gone prior to our life becoming as messy as it

now was. The following day we showed up at building three early in the morning and made the

queue. Our wait was not quite as long, we were called upstairs to see a worker by about

11:00AM.

After having disclosed all the necessary information to the worker we were again told

that we were not eligible for benefits at this time and that we should go to Monmouth County for

help. It did not matter what we said or how much we attempted to plead our case, the answer was

firm and final. The worker gave us a photocopied piece of paper with about five or six phone

numbers to different places where we might find help including The Atlantic City Mission, a


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shelter in Atlantic City, New Jersey, The Salvation Army, Interfaith Hospitality Network and

several others. Mary, Lily and I went outside and sat in the grass underneath a tree besides the

building. It was about lunch time so we had ourselves a little picnic while I commenced making

phone calls.

My first call, of course, was to the Monmouth County Social Services office. Since I was

in fact receiving benefits from them I wanted to find out what our options would be if we

managed to make our way there before closing time. After a conversation with the worker it was

made clear that I would be housed in a shelter along with Lily, but because Mary did not have a

Monmouth County case and was receiving benefits from Ocean County along with

unemployment she would not qualify for any sort of housing. Even after explaining that I could

not just leave her to fend for herself under the circumstances, the worker told me there was no

way around it; those were the rules and that was my only option.

My next step was to call the numbers on the list the Ocean County worker had given me.

I left the Atlantic City Mission for last because we had heard some horror stories about the place

and were advised that we may not want to go there with a child if we could avoid. Not to

mention, it was a fair distance away and a little more than we could afford for the bus. Every

other number on the list either told me that we were not eligible or appropriate to receive their

services for one reason or another or they did not presently have enough funding to house a

family of three. Some of them gave me other numbers I could call. One of the numbers on the

list was for PATH (Progressive Assistance to Transition from Homelessness); I left a message on

their voicemail.


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As I made my way down the list of numbers, one of them was for Journey to Wellness

(JTW). JTW is part of the Mental Health Association of New Jersey in Ocean County (MHA). A

very friendly man by the name of Bud answered the phone. He told me that his organization did

not provide emergency housing but that he could make a phone call to someone who might be

able to help. He asked for my number and assured me he would call me back shortly.

In the meantime, I told Mary to see if she could get a hold of a phone number or any

contact information to Tent City in Lakewood by using the internet on her phone. We were avid

campers and we had tents and camping gear in storage that we could get to if need be. She found

a phone number that turned out to be Minister Steve Brighams, the man in charge of Tent City, I

left him a message. After about an hour of phone conversations that seemed to be going nowhere

fast, I was mentally exhausted and decided to finish eating my lunch and wait to see if anyone I

left messages for called back.

Some of the people hanging out outside of building three smoking cigarettes or waiting

for rides told us that if we really had nowhere to go, we could wait until after 5:00 PM, when

social services closed for the day and call 211. They explained that since it was a Friday 211

would put us up in a hotel nearby for the entire weekend so we would at least have a place to

stay until Monday. We kept that in the back of our minds as a viable option if nothing worked

out in the next few hours.

After a short time, the phone rang, it was Minister Steve. He said he got the message and

called us back right away. I explained the severity of our situation to him and asked what he

thought we should do. I told him we were avid campers and that we didnt mind camping for a

handful of days until we figured something out. Since it was the middle of summer it might be


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no different than one of our regular outings. He was not thrilled about the idea, mostly because

Tent City was going through a rough patch with the local legislators and law enforcement and he

was not keen on the idea of having a small child there. He decided he would have us, but only for

the weekend and that he would help us figure out what to do before Monday.

I hung up with him and Mary called her mom for a ride to get our camping gear and drop

us off at Tent City. Angela arrived at Social Services to pick us up within the hour. We were on

our way.

Shortly after we piled in the car the cell phone rang, it was a number I did not recognize,

and I assumed someone was responding to one of the messages I had left. It was a man who

introduced himself as Jeff Wild. He said he got a call from Bud, the gentleman from MHA I had

spoken to earlier, and that he just got off the phone with Minister Steve. He explained that he

was the lawyer representing Tent City and that he runs The Coalition to End Homelessness in

New Jersey. He also expressed he did not like the idea that we were on our way to Tent City,

even if was just for the weekend, because the police were patrolling there regularly and might

have a problem if they were to discover a minor child as young as two there. He was afraid that

they might have DCP&P (Division of Child Protection and Permanency, formerly DYFS) take

the child, consequently causing tremendous problems for us.

We told him of the desperateness of our situation and explained how we were out of

options, at which time he said that The Coalition received regular donations which they kept in

an emergency fund for these exact scenarios and that he would be willing to put us up in a hotel

for the weekend. As it turned out, he planned to be in the Toms River area that weekend and

offered to pick us up early Monday morning and drive us to Special Response to represent us and


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see if there was a way to figure something out. Before hanging up, he assured me that if we

headed over to the Red Roof Inn on Water Street in Downtown Toms River there would be a

room reserved for us. He also advised me to call a man by the name of Mike McNeil, Director of

STEPS (Solutions to End Poverty Soon), and fill him in on the situation, which I did right away.

Mike is also Ocean Countys Fair housing Officer, Housing Chair for the Montclair

NAACP and a liaison to the OCBOSS. After speaking with him it was decided that he would

meet us at Special Response Monday morning and request an emergency meeting with Meredith

Sheehan, supervisor of Special Response at the time.

After all, we decided to set our worries aside for the weekend and make an effort to enjoy

our stay at the hotel. We knew we would not be able to accomplish much on Saturday or Sunday

and were in much need of some distraction. We ordered pizza, watched a few movies and took

Lily to the park.

Come Monday, Jeff picked us up as promised and when we got to Special Response

Mike McNeil was there with one of his associates. Meredith was expecting us and had agreed to

give us a chance to meet in her private office to discuss our case.

Jeff and Mike asked if we would like them to accompany us into her office, I suppose to

provide some level of moral support and advise us if and when appropriate or need be. Both

Mary and I were quite nervous, we really did not know what to expect, we intended to just be

honest and hope for the best. We decided not to have Jeff and Mike sit with us. We truly

believed this was going to be the opportunity we so desperately needed to plead with someone

above the authority of a case worker who could and likely would decide to help us. The outcome

was quite the contrary.


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Meredith already had as much information as she needed in a case file on her computer as

far as the standard identifying and financial data required when applying for benefits. She began

to ask us a series of unconventional questions in addition to whatever data the caseworkers had

already collected from us, for example: where were we living before I was incarcerated, where

had we been staying for the past thirty days, what were we planning to do in regards to seeking

employment and permanent living arrangements. Although all of our answers clearly pointed to

us having close ties and a recent considerable history residing in Ocean County, she told us that

she was denying us assistance based on not having had a plan upon coming to the county. We

even told her how I had written Mary numerous letters from jail outlining my desire and plan to

attend Ocean County College when I came home. We even offered the letters as evidence and

she said that would not alter her decision.

Once we exited her office she shared her decision and reasons for it with Jeff and Mike.

They were disappointed to say the least and a bit confused. After some deliberation, Meredith

agreed to place us in a hotel for one more night and she made sure to insist that this would be the

last time. We thanked Mike for taking the time to be there and he went on his way after letting

me know that he was going to investigate further and exhaust any and all possible options. Jeff

drove us to the hotel and conveyed the same message as Mike. We felt confident that we had two

willing and capable advocates fighting for us.


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III. Where Theres a PATH, Theres aWay: Outreach and Intake

At the hotel I was in no position to relax and let the time pass without taking it upon

myself to explore what options might be at our disposal which had not yet been examined. I

referred to my long list of phone numbers and called one that I had not heard back from, Family

Promise of Southern Ocean County (FPSOC). This time a lady answered the phone, her name is

Cheryl Polo, Director of FPSOC.

Cheryl was very warm and friendly; she stayed on the phone with me long enough to hear

about everything that had transpired over the last couple of months. She was acquainted with Jeff

Wild and Mike McNeil and also felt confident that together they could figure something out. She

explained that her organization does indeed house homeless families temporarily and works to

advocate for them, however it was a process that would take at least a few days in order to

determine our appropriateness and eligibility. I was very forthcoming with her about my recent

incarceration and history of substance use. She explained that they normally do not accept any

one into the program with such a background, but she was not going to make that determination

just then over the phone. She documented as much information about us as she could in the time

we spoke over the phone and let me know that she would have to consult with her board.

When I finished speaking with her I noticed a missed call and a voicemail. It was a

worker, Tom Finnerty, from PATH, one of the organizations I left a message for on Friday. I

called back and got a hold of him right away. Tom explained that his organization advocates and

helps to house homeless individuals and families and that they operate under Ocean Mental

Health of which I was already a client and that because I was, he could expedite an assessment

and intake if we were deemed appropriate and eligible for their services. I gave him a brief run


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down as to our present situation and he let me know that he would be in the field and could meet

us at the hotel to do an assessment in a short while. Before the afternoon was over he arrived.

Tom came into the hotel room and sat at a small dinette table with me with a clipboard

and some forms. After he recorded what pertinent usual information a social worker would need

to open a case we began to discuss what might be the best course of action. He explained to me

that they were federally funded and options would be somewhat limited. I thought about our

initial plan to stay at Tent City and pondered the possibility of staying at a legitimate family

campground for a handful of days until better accommodations could be made. There are a

number of family campgrounds around the county where we have stayed that are far more

affordable than the hotels Social Services and The Coalition placed us in.

Tom said he was an avid camper and hiker himself so he was not against the idea, but he

had to discuss it with his associates to see how they felt about it. This was certainly unorthodox.

Since we had the hotel room for the night, he returned to his office and assured me he would

have an answer by the end of the day. In the meantime he asked me to look for nearby campsites

and figure out the cost. Mary and I did this together since she was an Ocean County native and

more familiar with local camping.

Cheryl called back not long after Toms visit to let me know that she was contemplating

our situation and attempting to reach out to all the board members. She also told me she had an

out of town trip planned the following day for a little over a week and that she may not be able to

do anything for us until her return. Something in my gut told me that, while our present

circumstances were still in quite iffy, there was beginning to be a faint and distant light at the end

of a long dark tunnel.


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Jeff called during the afternoon and asked me to reach out to a friend of his by the name

of Connie Pascal, Vice President of New Jersey Legal Services at the time. He said I should

relate our story to him and that he might be instrumental as an advocate. Over the phone Connie

came across as a very kind, caring and compassionate individual. He listened intently to what I

had to say and he told me that he would monitor our case closely and maintain constant

communication with Jeff and Mike to keep abreast of things as they unfold. He also said he knew

of Cheryl and he would reach out to her and do what he could to persuade the board to accept us

into their program. He was also familiar with PATH and reassured me that we were in good

hands.

Tom returned to the hotel later that afternoon close to dinner time, he needed us to sign

some paper work and wanted to tell us in person that the agency agreed to let us stay at a

campsite. I told him about Jeff, Mike, Cheryl and Connie and we agreed that the best thing at this

point was to push to have us housed by Family Promise. I also told him about Cheryl leaving

town for a while and he figured since we were saving PATH quite a bit of money by staying at a

campsite as opposed to a hotel, they could afford to put us up until Cheryls return, about eleven

days.

The following morning Tom sent one of his associates, a social worker by the name of

Mark Ackerman, to pick us up and take us to the camp site. We called ahead to make sure a site

was vacant and made a reservation. On our way there, Mark made sure we understood that we

should not disclose to anyone at the campground that we were homeless and being placed there

by an organization. As it happened, this was a good idea. The lady who checked us in was the

owner and manager of the resort. She hadnt realized that we made the reservations for well over

a week and she began to tell us they do not allow tent sites to be occupied longer than five days


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because, at one time, they ran into problems evicting homeless people. We told her that we came

from out of town to visit family in the area and we were avid campers who preferred nature to a

hotel room. She made an exception for us. Mark used his personal credit card to pay for the site

instead of a company card so as not to raise suspicion. I think we pretended he was my uncle and

was paying for the site as a gift.

The campground at which we stayed is a seasonal family RV resort in Barnegat called

Carefree. At the time they were charging around twenty five dollars a day for a tent site with

running water, electricity, access to bathrooms and showers and a multitude of family friendly

activities and accommodations including a swimming pool and a giant bouncing pillow. We

were still getting some money from Marys unemployment and my benefits from Monmouth

County, so we were able to stock our cooler with food, purchase plenty of fire wood for the week

and ice to keep our perishables fresh.

During our stay at Carefree, Mark came to visit us quite frequently in order to carry out

his duties and obligations as a social worker. There was plenty more paper work, assessment and

counseling to be done. As well, one of the counselors from Ocean-CREST, named Adam,

proceeded with the outreach and intake procedures in order to facilitate my being a client and

begin weekly one-on-one therapy and help me attend weekly support groups for individuals

struggling with mental illness and/or substance use issues.

At this point I should mention that in 2005 I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress

Disorder (PTSD) after having endured a highly terrifying episode involving physical abuse and

psychological torment which left me emotionally scarred and greatly unable to cope with


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stressful situations. This is part of what led me down a dark path towards substance use and

consequential incarceration.

Mark and Adam were both instrumental in Mary and me beginning to learn to navigate

the social services institutions and helping us to remain afloat during such turbulent life events.

During our stay at the campground we maintained close constant communications and met about

every other day. Mark would bring us ice and keep tabs on our progress while he kept us in the

loop as he communicated with individuals from Ocean and Monmouth County Social Services,

as well as Cheryl Polo, regarding the goings on of our case. Adam drove me to and from

meetings and therapy as well as grocery shopping and food pantries. Meanwhile, Mary was able

to rest as she grew more pregnant each day and Lily was simply having a blast camping and

playing with all the other kids in the pool and on the bouncing pillow.

Aside from the daily rigmarole of phone conversations and planning, our stay at Carefree

was a very pleasant one. We became friendly with the owner, Barbara and her husband, Gene,

and have since returned each summer as a family tradition for weekend stays.


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IV. Promise! Advocacy, Acceptance and Placement

As it neared the end of our stay, we made an appointment to meet Cheryl in person at the

Family Promise day center in Barnegat, incidentally not far from the campground. Mark drove us

to the meeting and attended as our advocate. The day center, which houses Cheryls office, is in

a house on Route 9 in an affluent historical center of Barnegat. It is surrounded by quaint antique

shops, galleries and restaurants. It is within walking distance of the Barnegat Bay as well as

several landmark sites and museums.

Upon making Cheryls acquaintance, it became apparent that she is a kind, warmhearted

individual whom carries out her functions as a social worker with care and compassion. It was

evident that she operated with professional courtesy and a tremendous amount of respect.

Inside the day center it appears more or less like a house, sans bedrooms. There is a

sizable comfy living room with a television and large toy box for kids, a fully stocked homely

kitchen, two bathrooms, a large space where the dining room would normally be equipped with a

couple of computers, printers and a telephone and the basement has a washing machine and

dryer. There is also a large backyard with a nice wooden patio and a swing set.

Cheryl sat with us at a large table in the middle of the dining room. Her line of

questioning went beyond the basic indentifying demographic data collected during assessments

and intakes done by case workers in the social work field. It felt more like we were having a

conversation and had some element of being interviewed for a position. It took much longer than

any of the sit downs we had over the prior week, including our meeting with Meredith Sheehan,

Special Response Supervisor.


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I began to disclose a lot of personal and private details about mine and Marys life

together; details about why I was incarcerated, why I was diagnosed with PTSD, as well as

details about events that led to my incarceration and what I had been doing to cope with stress

and my symptoms since my release. Upon recalling events at one point, I began to cry.

This was the first time I truly felt as if someone in the field of social work was deeply and

genuinely interested in and concerned for our wellbeing. It was not so much that I was confident

she would accept us into the program, but I got the feeling that if there was any way she could

help it, she would. And if not, there would be a very good reason.

Cheryl explained to us that she had to perform a thorough background check on the both

of us and then had to consult with the board before making a final determination and that this

process could take up to several days. We could not go back to the campground because we

already stayed longer than they usually allow and did not want to press our luck and wear our

welcome out there. Mark communicated what transpired at Family Promise to Tom Finnerty and

got the approval to put us up in a hotel for a night or two, until Cheryl could give us a definitive

answer.

At this point, Mary and I were running out of steam and certainly had no idea what to do

next. Mark advised us that if we were not accepted into Family Promise his only immediate

solution would be to place Mary and Lily into a shelter for mothers and children and take me to

the Atlantic City Mission. Although he truly did not wish to break us up, it was the easiest and

quickest solution he could come up with.

That evening after we checked into our hotel room and had a bite to eat, Cheryl called. It

seemed unreal; she told me she was going to accept us into the program! I called Mark right


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away to give him the good news; of course he was happy for us. Cheryl did explain that she was

not going to be able to house us immediately since they did not have any families in the program

at present and since she had been out of town they were not set up with enough hosts and

volunteers to take us in right away; it might be a day or more before they were ready.

The way Family Promise works is through a network of local congregations which host

families one week at a time by allowing them to spend the night in either a common area or

classrooms on foldable cots. The congregations call on volunteers to host and supervise each

night as well as to prepare meals and sometimes provide activities and entertainment as well as

counseling and guidance if desired or needed. Family Promise itself is a secular organization and

at no time do the volunteers encourage participation in any religious practice although the

families are welcome to do so.

Cheryl did not tell me this at the time, but she had to make exceptions above and beyond

any she would normally allow when accepting us into the program. To begin with, they have a

fairly strict rule against taking in any one with a current and considerable criminal record, they

normally do not accept families where at least one adult is not currently employed or enrolled in

school or vocational training and they prefer to host families who possess their own vehicle

because it becomes logistically troublesome to arrange and organize volunteers to drive the

families to and from the day center seven days a week on top of all the other responsibilities they

take on with no compensation.

Another fact that Cheryl only disclosed to me after having known me for some time, is

that she never actually performed a background check; she accepted our words as honest and

truthful. Had she done so, it would have delayed the intake process further and Mark let her


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know that PATH was running out of funds to keep placing us in hotels. She had faith in our

desire to get our acts together and fix the mess that had become of our lives. Evidently, she did

not want to see our little family split up after having been through so much together as much as

we did not want that to happen.

While Cheryl rounded up some volunteers and made arrangements with Saint Mary of

The Pines Church in Manahawkin for us to stay there for the first week, it was up to Mark to

figure out where we would stay in the meantime without exhausting PATHs funds. He reached

out to Jenn Bauer, Director of The HOPE Center in Toms River, a non-profit which provides

limited assistance to the needy. She was able to put us up in a hotel for a couple of days while we

waited for Family Promise to welcome us.

Cheryl managed to get us oriented and settled into the program within that time. Adam

and his coworker Rob, from Ocean-CREST, picked us up from the hotel and drove us around to

collect some of our belongings that had been scattered throughout Ocean County in places we

crashed and dropped us off at the day center that afternoon. That evening we had dinner with a

volunteer by the name of Pat, and her husband, in one of the classrooms at Saint Marys and we

spent our first night sleeping soundly in another classroom where they set us up with cots, sheets,

blankets, pillows and a television with a DVD player. Phew!


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V. A Special Response: ProblemSolution

We stayed with Family Promise from the beginning of August to the end of November of

2012, when we moved into the apartment where we now live in Toms River, New Jersey. Our

stay in the program exceeded their usual cap of three months due to the complexity of our case

and extraordinary effort it took to iron out all of the kinks, cross all the Ts and dot all the Is.

While the board members I met were all wonderful nonjudgmental individuals, I could not help

but feel a sense of hurry and helplessness at the same time. I knew they were keeping close tabs

on our progress; understandably so, taking into account Cheryl vouched for us knowing nothing

more than what we had shared with her during the initial intake.

Once we settled into the routine of the program and became familiar, relaxed and

comfortable I had to set some wheels in motion and make haste. Even though Family Promise

was a blessing, it was a temporary solution to a very serious problem. We still had no solid plan

as to where we were going to live and how we were going to secure employment and afford our

own way.

Mark maintained our PATH case open and remained our advocate the entire time we

were in the program. He acted as our representative and intermediary to the OCBOSS. With his

and Cheryls guidance, and intervention at times, I was able to cancel my benefits from

Monmouth County and transfer myself onto Marys already open account in Ocean County.

Exceeding the income level to qualify for full TANF (Temporary Assistance for Needy Families)

benefits, which include SNAP (Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program) or food stamps,

cash allowance and Medicaid because Mary was receiving unemployment, was no longer a

hindrance because it happened to run out just before we were accepted into Family Promise.


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The primary criteria to qualify for temporary rental assistance from Special Response is

that an individual or family be receiving TANF or General Assistance (the same as TANF for

individuals as opposed to families), have resided in Ocean County for at least thirty days and

have no place to live. It was not long after being in Family Promise, which is considered

transitional shelter, that we met those requirements, except that having to transfer my benefits

from one county to another met extraordinary delays. At first I thought this was a normal part of

the bureaucracy innate to such government agencies. If it hadnt been for Marks involvement

and savvy, I might still believe that.

The fact is, after about a month or so in Family Promise everyone began to become quite

frustrated at the roadblocks we seemed to be hitting with seemingly no explanation. Cheryl and

Mark both were perplexed as to why the red tape was taking so long when we had clearly done

all we could to clear up any confusion and provided any and all proper documentation in a timely

manner. Then one day, Mark took part in a conference call with one supervisor each from the

Monmouth and Ocean County Social Services. What he discovered during this call was that one

of the case workers in Ocean County had made a note in our file stating that he or she believed

we were committing fraud because of the way we had applied separately for benefits from both

counties.

Mark actually questioned me privately about it one day and assured me that as a matter of

doing what one felt was right to survive and take care of their family it was perfectly

understandable and, at that point, there was nothing anyone could do about it. That could not

have been further from the truth.


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Steinberg 33

expanding until we have as close as possible to a perfect idea which, until implemented, we do

not find the flaws and figure out how to correct them. I do not profess to know just how to repair

the cracks in our social and human services institutions, nor do I believe I have the ability to

singlehandedly help everyone in need as much as I wish I could. What I do believe is that if

many of the right people with some of the right ideas pool together and cooperate and

collaborate, we can all make a considerable significant difference in the quality of American life.

We can be the example we ought to be for the rest of the world instead of the sore spot we have

recently become.


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VI. Social Crisis Intervention & Guidance Officer

Social - Of or relating to humansociety,the interaction of the individual and the group. The

welfare of human beings as members of society.*

Crisis - A difficult or dangerous situation that needs serious attention.*

Intervention - To become involved in something (such as a conflict) in order to have an influence

on what happens.*

Guidance - The act or process ofguiding or the direction provided by aguide.*

Officer - A person who has an important position in a company, organization, or government.

One who holds anoffice of trust, authority, or command.*

* Definitions taken fromMirriam-Webster Dictionary.

A Social Crisis Intervention & Guidance Officer, herein referred to as SCIGO, is a

governmental position held by a number of individuals who shall constitute a Crisis Intervention

Team, herein referred to as CIT. The duties of a SCIGO include, but are not limited to, acting as

liaison between individuals and families in crisis, herein referred to as PIC (Person/s in Crisis)

and crisis will be termed TON (Time of Need), and the Board of Social Services, herein referred

to as BOSS, as well as any other agency or organization which the PIC may be eligible to receive

services and/or benefits from. In order for a SCIGO to intervene and guide, advise or refer

anyone during a TON, the individual or family must consent to being represented and assisted by

the SCIGO and CIT. The CIT will have a designated Zone of Operations, herein referred to as

ZOP, which will not only include the CITs county of origin, but shall also be extended to the
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/societyhttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/guidinghttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/guidehttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/officehttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/officehttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/guidehttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/guidinghttp://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/society


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Steinberg 36

VII. Points to Consider for Presentation and Development:

Objectives & Measurable Outcomes:

1. Easier and quicker facilitation and distribution of benefits - by coaching/counseling

clients in the navigation of available social services.

2. Reduction in unnecessary/difficult workload for social services and other nonprofits -

by lessening influx of cold calls from ineligible/inappropriate consumers.

3. Determination of qualification and eligibility before contacting appropriate

organization/agency -

a.

By compiling lists of guidelines and requirements from each agency/organization.

b. Assessing each client thoroughly and determine Axis V.

c.

Request medical and psychiatric diagnosis if necessary.

4. Improved mental health, reduction in addictions/relapse - Reduced crime rates and

recidivism.

a. By subscribing to Maslows Hierarchy and ensuringthat first and second rung are

attained.

b. Helping to establish stronger communities ties and maintaining close family units

in times of crisis and subsequently.

5. Increased employment resulting in more tax revenue and stimulated local economy.

6. More accurate statistics and census data.

7. Increased funding for beneficial services.

8. Stronger sense of community, safer neighborhoods, more access to education and

healthcare.

9. Increased voter turnout.


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Empathy over sympathy -

By developing Exercises in Empathy Regular annual outings for staff and peers

which entail a total immersion in scenarios and situations resembling and mimicking

homelessness and poverty i.e., spending a night sleeping in cardboard box, having a mealat soup kitchen, volunteering overnight in a shelter, etc. The aim is to enable SCIGOs to

engage PIC with a significant level of empathy and compassion in addition to

professional courtesy and kindness as well as helping the SCIGO to be as nonjudgmental

as humanly possible.

Anecdotal / Experiential knowledgeBy seeking and encouraging credentialed

individuals who wish to work in this field as a result of having had personal experiences

with crises in theirs and/or their loved ones lives.

Political and community support.

Transportation and central office with kitchen and full bathroom.

Officers should be in the field with presence in social services waiting rooms.

Service Learning. Integration with OCC campus and curriculum.

According to a Wikipedia entry

Service learning is a method of teaching that combines classroom instruction with

meaningful community service. This form of learning emphasizes critical thinking and

personal reflection while encouraging a heightened sense of community,civic

engagement,and personal responsibility. The Community Service Act of 1990, which

authorized theLearn and Serve America grant program, defines service learning as:

"a method under which students or participants learn and develop through active

participation in thoughtfully organized service that is conducted in and meets the needs of

a community; is coordinated with an elementary school, secondary school, institution of

higher education, or community service program, and with the community; and helps
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Civic_engagementhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Civic_engagementhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Learn_and_Serve_Americahttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Learn_and_Serve_Americahttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Civic_engagementhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Civic_engagement


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Steinberg 38

foster civic responsibility; and that is integrated into and enhances the academic

curriculum of the students, or the educational components of the community service

program in which the participants are enrolled; and provides structured time for the

students or participants to reflect on the service experience."

Funding sources. Petty cash.

There is much to be determined as to whether a SCIGO should operate as a government

agent or the organization should be a non-profit or privately funded institution. Initially it

made sense to create this as an official state or county office. However, upon researching

and expanding on the original idea it seems as though it makes more sense to create it as

a non-profit. As has been explained by numerous well-seasoned knowledgeable

professionals in this and other related fields, legislation and regulation tends to

complicate altruistic endeavors more so than promote the seamless interdisciplinary

integration of professional human and social service agencies and organizations.


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VIII. Terms Used to Describe Project:

- One part social worker, one part lawyer: a SCIGO could perhaps take on a limited and

interim power of attorney after the client signs a temporary waiver and appropriate

release forms.

- Ombudsman: a person (such as a government official or an employee) who investigates

complaints and tries to deal with problems fairly.*

- Broker: a person who helps other people to reach agreements, to make deals, or to buy

and sell property (such as stocks or houses).*

-

Clearinghouse: an organization that collects and gives out information about a specific

thing.*

* Definitions taken fromMirriam-Webster Dictionary.

The above list of terms was compiled after having met with some of the individuals who

appear in the acknowledgments section of this paper. Each time I met and shared the idea for this

proposal with someone I would come away with a better understanding of just what was

developing and how it might be strategically shaped into a bona fide and practical program.


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IX. Acknowledgements

The following list consists of individuals and organizations that have been instrumental inhelping develop this plan along the way either by lending advice or giving professional input,feedback and constructive criticism to which I would like to extend much gratitude and

appreciation. Some of the individuals on this list have also expressed a desire to be moreinvolved as the project solidifies. Names appear in alphabetical order.

All members of the Ocean County Mental Health Board

Anthony Zazzarino, MA, LPC, CPRP, DRCCInstructor Rutgers School of Health

Related Professions

Barbara Mawer, M.S.W., L.S.W.Student Development Specialist Ocean County

College

Cheryl PoloDirector of Family Promise of Southern Ocean County

Connie PascalFormer Vice President of New Jersey Legal Services

Donald FlettPolitician

Jeffrey J WildTrustee of The Coalition to End Homelessness New Jersey

Jennifer BauerDirector of The HOPE Center

Jill PerezOcean County ADA Coordinator

John GreeneHypno-Couselor, EFT Practitioner and Intructor, Founder of Mind Body

Institute

Michael McNeilDirector of STEPS (Solutions to End Poverty Soon), Fair Housing

Officer and Housing Chair for the Montclair NAACP

Michelle GreenDirector of Mental Health Association of New Jersey, Toms River

Office

Patricia BarndtPolitician

Reverend Peter HartneySt. Paul Lutheran Church Beachwood, NJ


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X. Addendum

As I wrap up, putting the finishing touches on this paper this second to last week of

the 2014 Fall Semester and prepare to turn it in to Professor Barnes less than twenty-four

hours before it is due, several points have come to light. While anecdotal and experiential

knowledge can by no means be dismissed or discounted in the development of new ideas

which seek to affect positive changes in ones community and society asa whole, many

professionals tend to prefer concrete data in order to determine the need to produce goods

or implement particular services. By trade, I am not a researcher, but I do research. I am

not a statistician, but am able to collect and interpret data. I am not yet a credentialed

social worker or counselor. What I am is a man, a husband and father, a student and peer

who has witnessed enough disparity amongst people of every socioeconomic sector, from

every ethno-cultural origin.

I have not only observed the conditions living in poverty can produce in ones life, I

have been and to a great extent am still a product of my own acquaintance with life well

below the poverty line. That being the case, it is not my aim to garner sympathy and

charity, nor do I intend to pursued you to believe that the current human and social

services institutions need be replaced with something else. Indeed, there are many

cracks in the system; a real solid cohesion between the many agencies and

organizations that exist is exceedingly lacking. And while they all perform well on an

individual level and certainly reach and assist a great percentage of those in need, one

cannot simply ignore those who are unintentionally allowed to fall through the cracks.


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According to The US Census Bureau, Ocean County is home to almost 600,000

people, just over 200,000 households, of which over 2/3rdsare over the age of sixteen. Of

that 2/3rds, about six percent are unemployed. When I looked at households receiving

benefits, I was particularly interested in those which fell in brackets under $50,000. The

reason for this is I recently calculated a rough estimate of how much my family would

have to earn on our own in order to afford everything which is currently paid for by

government benefits; we would have to net at least that much. That estimate only

includes our current rent and utilities, food, transportation and a few dollars left over for

odds and ends such as the occasional new pair of shoes and clothes for the children as

they outgrow the ones they have, not taking into account tuition for school and any

luxuries or amenities.

It is especially interesting to note that three of the highest income brackets have the

highest percentage of families in Ocean County receiving Food Stamp/SNAP benefits.

This is not necessarily surprising, but to one unfamiliar with the way eligibility for

benefits is determined it may be misleading. Eligibility is determined by calculating the

number of individuals legally residing in one household versus the total income as well as

the cost of living for the entire household. So, about 43% of households income fall

below $50,000, yet household incomes in the $50,000 to $150,000 range make up over

50% of families receiving benefits.

We need not examine census data in great detail to note that there is an obvious need

to improve the standard of living in Ocean County. A comparative economic chart of

three year estimates showing 2008 to 2010 and 2011 to 2013 from the Census Bureau

reflects that unemployment and the amount of people receiving benefits have increased.


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After Hurricane Sandy, just over a year ago, Ocean County engaged in a massive

collaborative undertaking to combat the immediate emergency. Social workers,

counselors, schools, civil service agents, clergy and volunteers turned out by the droves.

Churches opened their sanctuaries for sleeping and eating, Social Services bussed people

to other counties and states, non-profits opened food pantries which still operate today. It

shouldnt take a natural disaster to address an emergent dilemma. In the social work field

there is a term known as NIMBY which stands for not in my backyard. The unfortunate

reality is that these problems are not only in our backyards, they are often knocking on

our front doors even if we choose to ignore it.

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Social Crisis Intervention & Guidance Officer

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