Facing November 1 with Fear and Strength
Standing with our residents, so Hope and Stability remain within reach.
It has been a little while since I last wrote. That is not from lack of care or lack of stories. Services for the recently housed, those still unhoused, and neighbors living right at the edge have been under serious attack. In moments like this, my obligation is to those with whom we walk first before anything. To keep people fed, safe, supported, and connected. Writing comes second.
I’m writing now because we are entering a critical moment here at the Hotel Cecil. There is real hope in this building. My work — our work — has shown that time and again. There is also real concern if that hope is not supported. The button below allows you to help directly. You can also donate by Venmo if that is more convenient. If you can, I hope you will. Please stick with me to the end. All of us at the Hotel Cecil appreciate it.
Healing starts at home
Every Wednesday, my friends Jill and Andy facilitate a support group on the mezzanine. This little space carries history. The very first public AA meeting in Los Angeles took place right there in June 1940 and that legacy of courage and recovery is still present.
I stay out of the room intentionally. People open up more freely without a chaplain present. That privacy is an act of trust. Jill and Andy bring deep experience in healing spaces, offering residents a chance to name what hurts, what gives them hope, and what they are fighting through right now.
The group doesn’t have a curriculum or a theme. It is simply a safe place to breathe. People come in carrying fear, grief, trauma, hope, and sometimes all of that at once. They talk through what’s burning a hole in their hearts. They find connection where isolation once prevailed. Week after week, walls come down a little more. We celebrate every voice especially the small voice not yet heard, and every person who walks in the door.
This is slow, sacred work. Healing rarely happens in a straight line.
Some of our residents talk. Some just sit among others, rather than being alone with their pain. Week by week, they are building a community many said was impossible here. At this writing, the group is small. We are seeking ways to promote the group in the building. Perhaps custom door hangers? If there is a generous soul out there who will donate about 300 door hangers, we would be grateful.
With all the programs we have started at the Hotel Cecil, we see results. Police calls to the building are down nearly 80 percent compared to two years ago. Residents are helping each other resolve conflict, avoid crisis, and maintain dignity. The community is choosing stability. That deserves support.
Jacob, Choices and Commitment
I’ve written about Jacob several times. He has been bouncing between treatment programs for just about 6 months now, never long enough to build a foundation. I’ve been working with court who sentenced him to treatment to get him the help that will be best for him. When he is not in a program, he couch surfs wherever he can. Recently, he has gone silent again.
When you make choices from a wounded or addicted place, the decisions that come out are wounded too. That is exactly what I am seeing with Jacob.
I do not agree with every choice he makes. I do believe he deserves someone who will not give up on him. I’m also concerned that the system is offering narrow, temporary pathways disguised as “help.” The broad systems that are in place are severely damaged and pigeonhole people rather than offer mindful and meaningful help.
Jacob’s dignity does not evaporate when he struggles. His humanity is not conditional on perfect decisions. I will keep advocating for him, and for everyone who is caught in that same exhausting cycle.
The Coming Storm
On November 1, federal SNAP benefits are being cut off for millions. Nearly every resident at the Cecil depends on those modest benefits — about $200 a month — to survive. Losing them means hunger. It means relapse risk. It means people being forced into dangerous choices.
At the same time, government rental assistance and community-engagement funds have dried up, amplified now because of the government shut-down. The very safety nets that helped people move indoors are being pulled back. Without intervention, individuals we fought to stabilize are at risk of being pushed right back outside.
We cannot allow that.
The Line in the Sand
Housing is not simply giving someone a key. It is ensuring that key keeps working. It is ensuring that person can eat. It is ensuring that a community that has fought so hard for dignity does not lose it because the money ran out.
So here is the ask:
If you can give financially, your gift becomes groceries, hygiene essentials, and community support right away.
If you can share this message, please help spread the word.
If you can hold us in prayer or speak up where you are, that strength matters too. Stay tuned here for information about prayer vigils and walks being planned.
We can also accept donations of shelf-stable food. Health choices are preferred but in these lean times, we welcome everything!
There is real hope here. It lives in the people who show up to group on the mezzanine. It lives in the 80 percent drop in crisis calls. It lives in Jacob’s continued struggle toward something better. It lives in every single resident who refuses to give up.
And it lives in you.
Thank you for not looking away. Thank you for believing in the worth of every single person who calls the Cecil home.
With gratitude and grit,
+Dylan
revdylan@oldcatholicusa.org