The Arch Street Center, which works to provide a friendly gathering place for adults suffering mental health issues, almost went under during last year’s budget impasse. With staff members cut from 12 to zero and, after some wrangling, back up to three, the center would have not have been able to maintain any of its normal services if it were not for the generosity and understanding of the surrounding community. And, as Harrisburg approaches the 2010-2011 budget, Arch Street executive director Susan Lilly fears that history may repeat itself.

“We’re really in a preparing-for-the-worst kind of mode,” Lilly said, looking to the next fiscal year. No solid assurances have yet come from state that such a standoff will be averted this summer.

About 75% of Arch Street Center’s income depends on state allocations.

Due to the 2009 impasse, Arch Street had to temporarily lay off all 12 of its employees in July. By the early fall, they had rehired three of those employees, but had little additional funding to continue some of the center’s core programs, like the evening meals served each night at no mandatory cost. “We were spending roughly $3,000 a month on food, and we didn’t have that at all,” Lilly said.

It was only through voluntary contributions from individuals and organizations in the community that the center could continue providing these dinners, Lilly said.

During the slowest grind of the impasse, Arch Street spoke out against the state legislature’s lack of cooperative progress by staging a picket-line protest at Penn Square on a Friday afternoon. “One of the things we were loudest about was that it really seemed like our legislature and our governor weren’t willing to work together,” Lilly explained, “Everyone drew a line in the sand, and it’s the most vulnerable that are most affected.”

After the public event, and its resulting local news coverage, donations began to flow in from individuals who had never known that the center existed.

Until state dollars reached the center late last year, community support was Arch Street’s bread and butter. St. John’s Lutheran Church, which houses the organization and only requires utility payments, went without those monthly checks; Warwick Middle School held a canned food drive; area churches took care of entire meals.

If one good thing came of last year’s fiscal crisis, Lilly said, it was the strengthening of involvement from the local community. But Arch Street is hoping that it will not again find itself relying so desperately on voluntary support. “Are we going to be in the same boat again?,” Lilly said, “The rumor that you hear is that we are.”

The first of two by Cliff Lewis

When it comes to quality of life issues, many city residents have just a single entity with whom to share their concerns: the city government. But, since March of 2003, residents of northwest Lancaster City—and a few blocks east of the Queen Street line—have had a strong, well-funded advocate in the James Street Improvement District.

Not long before the group’s inception, now-President Lisa Riggs took a drive through the streets of Lancaster and was impressed by what she saw as “the bones of a great city.” For 15 years prior, Riggs had worked as an economic development coordinator in Baltimore.

About one year before Riggs was brought in to jumpstart the JSID, the organization was conceived through discussions between Lancaster General Hospital and Franklin & Marshall college, both organizations seeking new ways to invest in their surrounding communities. Riggs attributed much of that initiative to F&M President John Fry, who had worked with a similar city district during his tenure at the University of Pennsylvania.

For Riggs, Lancaster City was rife with potential. “You get a good a good sense of the city very quickly,” she said, “It’s sort of hard to describe, but I guess the best word is ‘manageable.’ You can find good elements in almost every place.” Riggs said that she frequently hears that same observation from outside consultants: “There are a lot of things that, as one who’s had experience with community development and economic development, you come in and just instinctively see it. It saw it the moment I got here.”

Private donors make up the majority of the JSID’s $1.2 million yearly budget. The group’s 2008-2009 annual report listed Armstrong World Industries, the Feree Foundation, F&M, LGH, Fulton Financial Corp., High Real Estate, the Lancaster County Community Foundation, and the Steinman Foundation as “Gold Sponsors,” donating over $25,000. Another such donor was the City of Lancaster itself.

The JSID has spent seven years working to polish up its part of the city—particularly by pursuing improvements in the area’s cleanliness and safety. The group has facilitated the installation of new trash receptacles, commissioned bicycle-riding “Ambassador” squads covering the territory for 16 hours each day, and managed efforts such as the City’s installation of pedestrian lighting on North Prince Street.

At first glance, many of these initiatives sound like the work of a city government. Riggs acknowledged that this is indeed a common perception: “What downtown associations do,” Riggs explained, “are things that some people would argue should be a municipal function. But the practical reality is that city governments are stretched fairly thin and may choose to prioritize things differently. We have the luxury of focusing on a smaller area of the city. We don’t have the whole city.”

Riggs is reluctant to associate the JSID’s efforts with the process of gentrification—a term that has steadily acquired negative connotations due to its potential displacement of lower-income residents. “We’re not all about trying to displace populations,” Riggs asserted, while qualifying that “our goal is to have a long-term, healthy, vibrant community, [and] having people coming in from different income levels is one of our goals.”

Since the JSID set up shop in northwest Lancaster, Riggs has seen a growing public recognition of revitalization in the area. And although corroborating statistical data is hard to come by, Riggs noted that ‘buzz’ is a valuable commodity in itself:

“I’ll tell you that, whether its intuitive, instinctive, or the sense of confidence, I’d rather have that than market data. Because you can’t pay for the intuitive piece. We hear that, not just from younger people, but even from countywide interests, [where] it’s no longer a discussion as to whether the city’s revitalizing—it is. For a community to turn that corner is huge….It doesn’t mean that everything is perfect and all issues are solved, but it means that you’ve crossed some threshold where the momentum can build.”

In a report released this week from the Pew Center on the States, Pennsylvania was among nine states given a failing score for their provision of children’s dental care. Pennsylvania only met national averages in two of eight separate categories for policy improvement, including

1. Share of high-risk schools with sealant programs
2. Hygienists placing sealants with dentist’s prior exam
3. Share of residents on fluoridated water supplies
4. Share of Medicaid-enrolled children getting dental care
5. Share of dentists’ median retail fees reimbursed by Medicaid
6. Paying medical providers for early preventive dental care
7. Authorizing new primary care dental providers
8. Tracking data on children’s dental health

Of these, the state only passed on #2 and #8. Other states to receive a failing grade were Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Hawaii, Louisiana, New Jersey, West Virginia, and Wyoming.

The problem largely stems from the scarcity of dental care providers available and willing to provide care to individuals covered by public medical assistance. According to the study, more than half of Pennsylvania children on Medicaid received no dental care in 2007.

As Dan Jurman of SouthEast Lancaster Health Services (SELHS) told NewsLanc in an earlier interview, the SELHS dental clinic stands as the only place in the Lancaster County where such services are provided for those under medical assistance. They are never under capacity.

The report also cited a variety of other reasons for Pennsylvania’s shortfall:

Although they make efficient use of hygienists, the state’s school-based sealant programs reach less than a quarter of high-risk schools, and just under a third of Medicaid-enrolled children in Pennsylvania received dental services in 2007, the latest year for which data are available. As a result, the state was one of 13 identified for investigation in 2008 by the federal Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, which found that it needs to do more to ensure adequate access to dental providers. Pennsylvania recently created a Medicaid pay-for-performance program to award bonuses to dentists providing continuous care to children (and other vulnerable populations, such as pregnant women), but it does not reimburse primary care physicians for providing basic dental preventive services. The Keystone State provides fluoridated water to just over half of its population, well short of the national goal.

To read the report in its entirety, click here.

Since the late-1980’s the nonprofit Naaman Center in Elizabethtown has worked to provide residents of Lancaster and Dauphin County with intensive outpatient drug and alcohol rehabilitation services. The center receives a considerable portion of it’s referrals and income from private sources; however, the organization also serves County-funded clients, often referred through the parole office. But the County allocation for this fiscal year has already dried up.

According to executive director Tricia Frank, “The year the cap that we had—$52,000—that cap is used now already. And we have five months to go in this fiscal year. We have no more funding.” For the 34 County-referred clients they are currently serving, the center is left with only one compassionate solution: “We’re committed to not discontinuing their care,” Frank said, “We’re going to see them pro bono.”

In recent years, the County has shifted more of its limited drug and alcohol funding toward outpatient services like those provided at Naaman Center. According to Frank, an unintended side effect of this is that many individuals without other options have simply deferred to outpatient service.

“So that ate up our cap,” Frank said, “Because we didn’t want to turn anybody away, and we know that they couldn’t get care elsewhere.”

For all new County referrals, Frank said, the center will seek to help them obtain public medical assistance to fund their care. For those who do not technically qualify for medical assistance—the ‘working poor’ demographic that the County’s drug and alcohol dollars aim to help—the center will be offering the discounted rate typically charged to the County itself. “We are drastically reducing the fee, but they often can’t afford it,” she said.

Many of these referred individuals are coming fresh out of prison, required by mandate to obtain rehabilitation services. As Frank put it, “They have to do this, they’re coming out of prison with no job, no anything. It’s kind of like they’re being told to do something they can’t do.” For those currently being served pro bono, the center is simply drawing funds from their private donations—in effect financing government mandates with private charity dollars.

“If all of our income came from the counties,” Frank asserted, “We’d be in trouble.”

By Cliff B. Lewis

The state of homelessness in Lancaster County is not faring well in these first months of 2010: The effects of a sluggish national economy have swiftly trickled down to society’s lowest income brackets; a local shelter (Crispus Attucks) has recently closed its doors, pulling about 20 beds from our social safety net; and a cold, blustery winter relentlessly bears down on both rich and poor. Fortunately, Lancaster’s homeless services are rising to the challenge.

According to Ken Marzinko, coordinator of the School District of Lancaster’s Homeless Students Project, “I’ve been working with the homeless population for 18 years, and certainly this feels like the most challenging time that I’ve experienced.”  Marzinko’s program, which serves to connect homeless students and their families with the local support network, typically serves about 900 students each school year. This year they expect to see at least 1,000.

“I can assure you that my partner and I are getting more requests for help from parents directly and from school staff who have been made aware of housing losses and job losses,” Marzinko said, “It’s been very busy this school year.” Marzinko said that he does not know of any homeless children being left to the street, since they are seen as a top priority for local service organizations.

It was announced in late summer 2008 that Crispus Attucks would be closing a Lancaster City homeless shelter, due to lack of funding. The center had offered room for 20. In response, Water Street Ministries added 60 beds in its Community Emergency Shelter in January of last year.

According to Maria Schaszberger, spokesperson for Water Street Ministries, the number of people accessing the mission’s services has increased by 26% since last year.

Schaszberger said that the mission has not been experiencing frequent overflow in its men’s shelter, with an average of 10 beds remaining open each night. In the event that those beds are full, the center can at least provide escape from the weather: “Otherwise, there’s a hallway at the Water Street Mission we use for men to get out of the cold and be safe,” Schaszberger explained.

To increase the local capacity for sheltering women and children, Water Street Ministries has partnered with the Council of Churches’ Winter Shelter, which is now open exclusively to that demographic. “We can’t take any chances when we’re working with children,” Schaszberger said.

According to Gretchen Lichty, coordinator of the Winter Shelter, no women or children have had to be turned away from services this year. The program is a collective effort of several religious congregations, one of which will host the shelter within their premises each week. On the coldest of nights, Lichty said, the shelter draws no more than 21 women—well within their capacity.

“Now there’s just no way we’ll fill up,” Lichty said.  As Shaszberger put it, “Between the Water Street Mission and our partnership with the Winter Shelter, we believe we are prepared to meet the need this winter.”

Rick Kastner, Executive Director of the Lancaster County Drug and Alcohol Commission, knows that funding for addiction treatment is about more than just comfy government budgets: These dollars—and the lack thereof—bear a distinct human impact in Lancaster County. For example, this week Kastner had to decline funding for halfway house services to a county resident who had run out of options.

The man had recently lost his job, could not afford treatment, and did not even qualify for government medical assistance due to his unemployment checks. But Kastner’s office simply could not afford to help him. “Here we are denying somebody who is ready for treatment, ready for recovery, ready for a clean and sober life,” Kastner said, “We simply had to say ‘no.’”

The commission has historically provided financial assistance for those ‘working poor’ individuals trapped in the no-man’s-land of an income too low for health insurance and too high for Medicaid. Before December 2008, the commission would support residential addiction treatment (rehab, halfway house) for about 400 such individuals each year.

Since that time, however, the commission has provided zero assistance for residential treatment—the result of annually shrinking state allocations.

Understand: This is not simply a matter of passing so many hand-outs to area ‘junkies.’ The services promoted by the commission and its partnering providers exist to help conscientious individuals clean up their lives and, in turn, clean up our communities. And, as a result, these services thanklessly draw down expenses that the public would have ultimately paid through prison funding and hospital bills.

“As we see the drug and alcohol funding decrease,” Kastner said, “We see a dramatic increase in the number of inmates in state and county prisons.” He continued, “The hospitals know [this funding is crucial] because they see the ERs and beds being filled with people suffering from…addictive behavior.”

Some of the most tragic victims of inadequate drug and alcohol funding, apart from the addicts themselves, are their families and friends. Kastner articulated the agony of watching a loved one succumb to addiction: “It tears out your heart, because the person is essentially destroying themselves, and you’re just sitting there hopelessly trying to help them and at times can’t find that help.”

However, equally tragic are those victims who will contract HIV/AIDS and other diseases from addicts who might otherwise have been assisted into recovery. These non-addicts will equally pay the price for the underfunding of addiction care. And none of us can be certain that these victims will not be loved ones of our own.

There are doubtless many others like the unemployed man denied support this week. And, sadly, those turned away represent individuals who have painfully mustered what precious little determination they have left to humbly ask for help in turning their lives around. Each of these lives is ‘shovel-ready’ project for social revitalization—just waiting for an adequate investment.

(To learn about the role that the Drug and Alcohol Commission plays in Lancaster’s ‘social safety net,’ read NewsLanc’s 2009 series spotlighting the organization.)

Third in a series by Cliff Lewis

According to Ken Marzinko, coordinator of the School District of Lancaster Homeless Students Project, the greatest challenge in serving Lancaster’s homeless students is a shortage of affordable housing in the area.

Kay Moshier McDivitt, Community Homeless Advisor for Lancaster County, told NewsLanc that the county’s lack of low-income housing is part of a national crisis. And, although Lancaster’s problems are less severe than in many other parts of the country, Moshier McDivitt said, the crisis could not be any more real to those Lancastrians affected.

All throughout the United States, McDivitt explained, lower working wages are not keeping up with the cost of fair market housing. According to a 2009 study by the National Low Income Housing Coalition, a minimum wage worker in Lancaster would have to clock 83 hours each week to afford a two-bedroom apartment at fair market rates. This figure presupposes that 30% of one’s income should be spent on housing.

Section 8 housing vouchers, which can subsidize a portion of one’s rent payment, have lately been scarce, according to Anne Marie Theurer, Section 8 Program coordinator for the Lancaster City Housing Authority. Since early in this decade, when Congress stopped regularly granting new Section 8 vouchers, Theurer’s agency has only dispensed vouchers retrieved by attrition.

According to McDivitt, the waiting list for Section 8 vouchers is not even open at this time.

As Marzinko put it, “I don’t think the federal government, the state government, Lancaster County, or the city government can absorb [the need]. So it has to be the whole community pitching in and doing part of it.”

Marzinko has lately spent time speaking to “Rotary Clubs, church groups, anybody that would listen” with a call for these private organizations to begin independently ‘subsidizing’ apartments and homes for impoverished area families. For example, a club could jointly purchase an apartment complex, and charge a low rate for qualified families: “So instead of paying $600 a month,” Marzinko explained, “[The renter is] paying $300, and the club is paying the difference.”

On a smaller scale, Marzinko recommended that church groups could “adopt a family” by subsidizing their individual living arrangements.

However Lancaster’s problem of student and family homelessness is to be dealt with, Marzinko maintains that the effort will require all hands on deck: “I’m not waiting for Washington to send us millions of dollars…it ain’t coming. If we’re going to do something, it means that the whole Lancaster community has to be willing to get their hands dirty.”

Second in a series by Cliff Lewis

Given the circumstances, the School District of Lancaster’s Homeless Students Project is a success worthy of note. Project Coordinator Ken Marzinko mentioned some of the statewide recognition that Lancaster’s program has received: Sheldon Winnick, coordinator of the State Homeless Children’s Education Fund, once told Marzinko that Lancaster’s is the foremost homeless education program in Pennsylvania. This reputation has even brought the PA Secretary of Education for a visit. But, even in the midst of relative success, Marzinko keeps a sober perspective: “Quite frankly, we lose more than we win,” he said.

The inherently ‘losing’ nature of this effort begins with the general and pervasive presence of poverty within the district: “You may be aware,” Marzinko noted, “That 81% of our student population was eligible for free and reduced lunch last school year. So the needs of many students living in poverty—not just homeless—are huge.” Right out of the gate, Marzinko’s program is forced to filter out the many needy students who do not technically qualify: “We have to concentrate our efforts on what we’re mandated to do—to serve homeless students.”

Students who do qualify for the program often slip away from the district before they can be adequately served. According to Marzinko, because of transient living situations, “students move out of the area, and we don’t know where they’ve gone for long periods of time—if ever.” Since shelters like Water Street Ministries only allow a limited stay (about 30 days), some students can pass through a school in only a month’s time.

The school that encounters the brunt of this problem is Carter and MacRae Elementary. Just across from Water Street Ministries, and with two other shelters within its territory, this school serves a population with a uniquely high rate of homelessness. According to Principal Ollie Jones, Carter and MacRae’s student body can be 20-40% homeless at a given time. Some of these students arrive without any identifying paperwork at all.

The school places students’ basic needs as the first order of business. Through a partnership with St. James Episcopal Church, Jones is always supplied with an emergency stock of shoes and clothing so that “if we have a kid that shows up without shoes, we have shoes.” The philosophy at Carter and MacRae is to “teach the child that’s in front of us today,” Jones said, never presuming that a student will be there tomorrow. Teachers regularly augment their lessons with instruction on basic life skills—like preparing a can of soup.

Perhaps surprisingly, this focus on the essentials of life does not detract from Carter and MacCrae’s academic record. While seven district elementary schools did not reach Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) in 2009, Carter and MacRae was one of the six elementary schools that did.

But high turnover remains the school’s most significant problem. Often, Jones said, “once we fill the achievement gaps, they’re gone.”

This chronic pattern makes for a great deal of record-keeping, which, according to Marzinko, becomes a serious impediment in itself. To meet the requirements of their Pennsylvania Homeless Education Grant, the Homeless Students Project is required to maintain a voluminous database of names, grades, addresses, etc. “But having the time to enter all of that kind of stuff is an ongoing challenge,” Marzinko said.

“I’ve told our colleagues at the PA Department of Education,” Marzinko asserted, “That, until the School District Administration says otherwise, I’m going to continue to put serving homeless students as a first priority and ‘counting’ as a second priority.”

The first in a series by Cliff Lewis

Over the course of last year, more than 900 students in the School District of Lancaster qualified as ‘homeless.’ These students, largely at the elementary level, have no permanent residence, no reliable income, and no certainty of persevering through graduation. Even worse, these students are at high risk of following their parents’ footsteps into a homeless adulthood. The district’s Homeless Students Project works to foster a sense of normalcy for these students—connecting them with services, keeping them in school, and helping them break the oppressive cycle of family poverty.

According to Ken Marzinko, coordinator of the Project, the figures of student homelessness have grown in the last two decades. In 2003, Marzinko noted, there were 864 students served by the program; in 1997, there were 615. District population growth aside, Marzinko says that this spike largely owes to a receding national economy, coupled with Lancaster’s alluring reputation for low unemployment and more affordable housing.

The most common form of homelessness among students is the ‘doubling up’ of families in a single living space. According to Marzinko, “Many times, those families that don’t have work come [to Lancaster] and live with another family, doubled up.” If a landlord then discovers that occupancy limits are being violated, such a family can wind up in a shelter—the second most common form of homelessness among SDoL students.

Beside the two most common situations, Marzinko said, there is a broad spectrum of other circumstances under which students come in need of his program. Students can fall into homelessness through house fires, domestic violence, family re-locations, or simply running away from home.

With such a diverse collection of needs, the Homeless Students Project’s two full-time staff members must work flexibly and in a variety of capacities. In fact, simply identifying these transient students requires a distinctly multifaceted process.

Referrals to the Project come from concerned teachers, homeless shelters, and from friends or family who have accessed these services in the past. The most significant referral source, however, is the District Enrollment Center. While enrolling new students, officials are keen to spot the signs of homelessness—for instance, a claim to be living with extended family or no information provided regarding place of residence. Families in a ‘doubled-up’ situation will often avoid directly reporting their circumstances for fear of reprisal.

Once a homeless family is recognized by the Homeless Students Project, staff will speak with parents to gauge their situation. At this point in the process, Marzinko said, adults are often connected with other human services in the county to serve their particular needs—such as short-term housing, employment, or drug rehabilitation.

For high school students, the Project aggressively focuses on encouraging graduation. At times, this effort is manifested in small acts of financial assistance—helping a student obtain her yearbook, attend prom, purchase athletic shoes. However, a great deal of this effort lies in counseling-related services. The staff works to build mentoring relationships with these students to promote the importance of further education. During senior year, the Project assists qualifying students in completing their college applications.

“It’s the same kind of thing that a mom and dad would do for their student,” Marzinko said, “But we have to remember that, for students in homeless situations, their parents have not had college experience.”

According to Marzinko the program has seen its fair share of success stories, with some students moving on to Millersville University and Stevens College. “It’s important that we have those stories that we can tell younger students,” Marzinko said.

For elementary school children in need, the Homeless Students Project works primarily to maintain a sense of stability by providing the basic amenities of life in the classroom. Next to Marzinko’s office is a tight stockroom with shelves and drawers all loaded with brand new backpacks, school supplies, uniforms, toiletries, sneakers, and underwear—most of which were donated by local churches and service organizations.

Last month alone, the Homeless Students Project distributed uniforms and school supplies to about 200 children. As Marzinko sees it, these actions speak the importance of education much louder than mere words:

“We believe all school staff are telling our students the same thing that we are: The importance of getting to school every day, the importance of getting to school on time, doing your best work in class, getting along with your teacher and your classmates, doing your homework. But when I say that same message to a student and their mother and then hand them a new book bag with new school supplies and a new uniform…, that same message carries a whole lot more weight.”

The second in a series by Cliff Lewis

Dave Bender, Executive Director of Compass Mark, is optimistic about the potential for addiction treatment services to improve quality of life in Lancaster County. According to Bender, “a stronger society” can be built by working to inform and empower individuals in their personal choices regarding addiction, rather than merely imposing prohibitive laws.

However, Bender would assert, it is the absence of this approach on the State level that brings about the bulk of Compass Mark’s challenges.

According to Bender,

“Substance abuse has always been treated as a moral issue and as a criminal justice issue, and it’s rarely been looked at as a public health issue….For the most part, the typical elected official—whether you’re talking about the State or Federal level—rarely sees this as a public health issue….”

In the mid-1980s, Compass Mark spoke out against mandatory sentencing for nonviolent drug offenders, Bender said. Such legislation was emblematic of an expensive tendency toward incarceration as a manner of dealing with drug addiction and distribution: “Back then,” Bender noted, “The state prison budget was $250 million a year; now it’s $1.8 billion and growing rapidly.”

From Bender’s perspective, a direct way to abate these swelling prison costs would be for the State to place a definitive cap on such expenditures: “Somebody at the State level has got to have the courage to begin to cap that figure,” which would necessitate progressive investment in reentry, treatment, and harm reduction initiatives—which have all been known to reduce the need for incarceration.

But the failure of State legislators to complete a budget for the current fiscal year has only further compounded the challenges for treatment organizations like Compass Mark. In the absence of funding from both the State and Federal Government (which passes through the State), Compass Mark “could end up closing down in a month,” Bender said. And the work of planning school programs for the coming year has been multiplied by uncertainty of funding: “We have to come up with three plans: One plan for no money, one plan for some money, and one plan for the money that we got last year.”

With Harrisburg stalemated over a $3.2 billion budget gap, and with $1.8 billion State dollars tied up in corrections, Bender cannot help but observe a recurring theme:

“We’re helping the State Budget by reducing recidivism, which means we’re definitely helping that $1.8 billion prison budget from getting bigger….So we’re reducing those numbers, but by cutting us off, and cutting off that prevention that should continue, they’re just going to be looking at a prison budget that’s $2.5 billion to $3 billion ten years from now.”