Henry is Home
When I started this website in the spring of 2017, I never imagined I would still be sharing these stories seven years later. Over the past year I have tried to include stories about unique programs, intersectional issues, even philosophical theories that came about in discussions with people experiencing homelessness. Occasionally I get to tell follow-up stories as people go through life transitions. I have photographed weddings and covered memorials after the tragic death of someone I had featured earlier. Rarely do I get to celebrate a success story when someone gets into permanent housing. Over this past year I have focused more on how people’s persistent efforts at elevating their quality of life have paid off. This is one of those stories.
One of the first people I met in those first few months of www.talesofthestreet.com was a joyful, energetic artist named Enrique “Henry” Alonso Cabrera who described himself as a “gay Latino street daddy.” He wore several necklaces and bracelets with lucky talismans, rode a bicycle around town, and painted watercolors with a feather - a technique he said he learned from an elderly Holocaust survivor. We became friends and stayed in touch despite many life changes for both of us. When I was working on my doctorate we collaborated on creating a short documentary about the issues he faces surviving on the street, including being constantly denied access to housing because of a previous felony conviction. Using visual storytelling in this way helped reframe certain problems and suggest redesigning programs and policies aimed at addressing homelessness.
September 2024 would mark the 16 year anniversary of my friend Henry becoming homeless. Instead, it marks the six month anniversary of him securing a room in shared housing. Henry never stopped trying to get into housing. Several programs and organizations said they could help him, then didn’t. They strung him along, gave him hope, then faded away. It would be easy to become jaded, to fall into addiction, to do something to tank your chances of ever achieving success. But Henry has an analytical mind. After a period of emotion, dealing with failed attempt after failed attempt, he would break down the reasons things didn’t work. He determined who came to play with actual resources and who was blowing smoke.
Living outside for 15 years makes you forget certain things about the required responsibilities of living indoors. The transition was so challenging that Henry lived in a tent in the backyard for four months before a storm convinced him to sleep in the room he was assigned. Listening to the wind rattle the windows triggered memories of nights he’d spent in a tent or a car during similar storms. Being responsible not just for himself but for his dog Lulu made the difference. The key to success is changing your mindset, he said, changing your behavior. While he admits he doesn’t like dealing with change, the reward of finally having the security of a home with GLM Housing is well worth the personal work he knows must be done, especially when it means also adapting to a shared living situation.
Henry also knows he has to find a new community. Every day he visits with or texts two friends who have had the same tortured journey from the streets into housing. He keeps his mind open to new possibilities, is planning to enroll in community college and continue to mentor others who struggle with the issues connected to transitioning indoors after chronic homelessness. He is a fierce advocate for supportive services, for combatting the compassion fatigue that plagues an empathetic public, and for his own ability to not just survive, but to thrive.
