Young, gay and thrown away

The residential part of the program, which is open to emancipated minors and young men and women who are homeless, consists of three phases--steps toward self-sufficiency. Hope House provides residents with medical, dental, and psychological care; educational and career planning; and drug and alcohol treatment, when needed.

The young adults must obey a set of rules that sound more like a boot-camp regimen than guidelines for a transitional living program.

The resident must agree to: pay rent; attend therapy sessions; make his bed and clean his room every day before leaving the house; shower daily; brush his teeth twice a day; clean up after himself; perform assigned chores; do his own laundry; obey curfew; and replace anything he breaks. The residents are not allowed to receive incoming calls between 10:30 p.m. and 8 a.m., and must sign in and out of the house.

No smoking is allowed in the house. Hope House also prohibits alcohol and drug use on or off the premises, overnight visitors, and forays to bars except on 18-and-over nights.

On the most volatile issue--sex--Hope House is particularly strict: No sexual contact is permitted in-house or with other residents, and a resident may not even be in the house unless a staff person is present. The penalty for breaking the sexual contact rule is expulsion from the residential part of the program.

The youths are allowed to live at Hope House for up to 18 months. Many residents have difficulty sticking to the guidelines, having lived by their own rules on the streets. And for youths who do stay, the constant flow of new residents disrupts their tenuous hold on stability.

"You get a phone call that someone's moving in tonight, and you haven't even met this person," McCue says. "That takes some adjustment."

The program's staff agree that, so far, what's keeping Hope House from running smoothly is the lack of an assessment period for the youths. "When the kids come to us, they need help right away," says Hope House director Bob Ivancic. "But we need to see how serious the young adult is about getting their lives together before placing them in the house. Some of the kids can't deal with the structure. They want to be out partying all night, but they're not allowed to do that in this program."

Eventually, Hope House wants to separate youths with short-term and long-term needs, Ivancic says.

Since Hope House's goal is to move the young adult from homelessness to independence, the residents are supposed to spend all their energies progressing through the three phases. During the first month, the youth undergoes screening, which includes everything from a psychological exam to a "job readiness" evaluation. Within a month, the residents are matched with a mentor, and are expected to have found part-time employment. They adhere to a 9 p.m. curfew every night.

Phase 2 begins with the resident choosing one of three tracks: finishing high school or obtaining a GED, full-time college, or full-time employment. The youths learn basic skills such as preparing a budget and keeping house. They're required to pay 10 percent of their wages to Hope House for rent and utilities, and their curfew is extended to 11 p.m. on weeknights, and 1 a.m. on weekends.

By the time the resident has reached Phase 3, he's expected to be self-supporting. In theory, Hope House follows the youth for a full year during this phase.

"The idea is for us to be less involved as the levels go up and they become more independent," Ivancic says. "We tell them, 'It's your responsibility. It's your life. We're not going to do it for you. We'll teach you how to do it, but you have to do it.'"

Scratching her bird-like head, Tammy Cherry reaches for a bag of sunflower seeds in her office one day in August and pecks them out of her hand. "I wake up early and I leave late," she says.

Just as she's getting comfortable, the phone rings. She sighs.
For Cherry, there are no typical days at the office. "A typical day would be to expect that the residents are going to have some sort of emotional issue, and you're going to have to deal with it," she says.

Suddenly, Karen emerges from a hallway near the living room. A resident for six months, Karen walks sluggishly to the phone, dials a number, and begins chit-chatting with a friend.

Cherry pauses in mid-sentence and turns to where Karen is sitting. "Can we be alone?" she asks.

Karen doesn't move.
"Now," Cherry says sternly.
"I'm moving! I'm moving!" Karen responds.

Cherry waits for her to leave, fixing her eyes on the long-faced teen. Sitting grumpily, Karen remains motionless. And then--as if summoning all her mortal energy--she stands up and drags herself back down the hallway.

Cherry turns and says, "You asked me what a typical day was, and there you have it."

The phone rings again.
When the residents first arrive, Cherry explains, they go through a honeymoon phase. They want to please everybody and play nice. But after two weeks--or two days, depending on the kid--the facade breaks down, and the real person emerges.