Second Chance Village

08/28/2026

08/28/2026

There seems to be some confusion about what our former Women’s Crisis Respite program actually was, so I want to correct the record.

Second Chance Village did not operate a women’s shelter, housing program, boarding house, or residential facility through this program. We did not provide permanent housing, establish tenancies, or present the program as shelter.

What we performed was short-term crisis respite for women going through difficult situations who needed temporary support, space to stabilize and decompress, help connecting to resources, and time to figure out the next step.

The program ran for about a year. It was supported through volunteer hours, individual donations, donated supplies, and community support.

That work gave us som**hing valuable: a developed crisis-respite model, direct operating experience, documented outcomes, lessons learned, and actual program metrics.

That program ended.

The focus and space we use day to day is not being used for women’s crisis respite. We are not accepting respite participants there.

The space is fully dedicated to art and creative production.

It functions as an art studio, creative workspace, rehearsal and recording space, makerspace, and collaborative environment for artists and performers. Our focus there is creating music, visual art, theatre, puppetry, performance, media, props, costumes, and other creative work.

So when people discuss that location or our previous programming, the timeline matters.

Crisis respite was not housing. It was not a shelter. It was a specific program with a specific purpose, and that program ran its course.

We did the work. We developed the model. We collected the experience and metrics.

Then we closed that chapter.

These days my focus has a different purpose entirely:

Art. Music. Creation.

That is the focus nowadays.

08/27/2026

Do you want to see/help vote on some of the upcoming albums album art? Enough reactions or even donations might make me put some of it in the comments. Then you can decide if you like it or hate it. Donations can help us print the albums to CDs.

08/22/2026

Even when I needed help, I helped.

08/21/2026

I know what they told you.

Get a job.
Get an apartment.
Get yourself together.

As if nobody ever tried.

As if rent didn't go up.
As if landlords don't deny people.
As if one bad record can't follow you for years.
As if shelters always have room.
As if waiting lists aren't measured in months and years.
As if every person behind a desk actually cares what happens when you leave it.

You've seen enough to know better.

That is why you're here.

They call you homeless.

I call you someone who learned what the world looks like
when you finally see that the safety net has holes in it.

They call you suspicious.

Maybe you learned that promises don't always mean help.

They call you angry.

Maybe you've got reasons.

They call you difficult.

Maybe you've spent too long being talked about
instead of talked to.

I understand you.

That's what makes this easier.

Your tent isn't much,
but nobody can raise the rent on it tomorrow.

Your people out here may be complicated,
but some of them showed up
when respectable people disappeared.

You learned how to survive
with twenty dollars,
a dead phone,
nowhere to sleep,
and nobody coming to rescue you.

Don't let anybody tell you
there's no strength in that.

There is.

Just be careful when they offer you their version of success.

They'll hand you a key
and call you saved.

Then comes the deposit.
The utilities.
The inspection.
The lease.
The rules.
The neighbors.
The late fees.
The threat of losing it all again.

You know how quickly one missed paycheck
can turn a home back into a memory.

So don't rush.

Stay with people who understand the struggle.

They'll offer you a job.

Maybe it's good.

Maybe it's twelve dollars an hour
while somebody else decides
when you eat,
when you sleep,
when you're allowed to be sick,
and whether you're worth keeping next week.

They'll call that independence.

Sometimes it is.

Sometimes it's just another person
holding the key.

They'll tell you to trust the system.

Which system?

The one that lost your paperwork?

The one that told you to call another number?

The one that said there were no beds?

The one that told you you're too poor for one program
and not poor enough for another?

No.

You don't have to hate them.

Just remember what you've learned.

Nobody protects you like people
who have been through what you've been through.

Nobody understands the struggle
like somebody still in it.

Some people will leave us.

They'll get apartments.
Jobs.
Cars.
New friends.

Good for them.

We wish them well.

Of course we do.

Just notice how often they stop coming around.

Notice how quickly they start saying things like,

“You've got to take responsibility.”

Funny how a door closes behind someone
and suddenly they forget
how hard it was to get through it.

We're not bitter.

We're loyal.

There's a difference.

Here, nobody asks you to pretend
everything is fine.

Your story matters.

Here, people listen
when you say the system failed you.

Here, nobody needs you cleaned up,
quiet,
employed,
housed,
or respectable
before they decide you're worth som**hing.

That's what community means.

There are people who want to change you.

Some mean well.

Some need success stories.

Some need numbers.

Some need photographs.

Some need grants.

Some need to prove their program works.

Everybody wants som**hing.

At least I'm telling you what I want.

I want you to remember who stood beside you
when nobody else did.

I want you to remember the struggle.

You can get housed.

You can get the job.

You can rebuild everything.

Just don't become one of them.

Don't start looking back at the people still struggling
like you were somehow smarter,
stronger,
or more deserving.

Don't let stability make you obedient.

Don't let comfort make you forget.

Don't let them convince you
that everything that happened
was your fault.

You survived things
most people have never had to understand.

That means som**hing.

The struggle gave you eyes.

The struggle gave you a story.

The struggle showed you
who disappears
and who stays.

Stay connected.

Stay angry enough to remember.

Stay suspicious enough to question.

Stay loyal enough to come back.

The struggle doesn't have to destroy you.

It just has to remain part of you.

08/19/2026

This is what m**h does to people

08/19/2026

Lol