Darla was a woman I met in November of 2023 during my stay in a psychiatric ward. She struggled with addiction, mental illness, and homelessness. Her pain was piercing and her battles many, but her empathy and compassion were boundless.
By the time Darla left the psychiatric ward for rehab and I left for outpatient care, we had established a friendship like none other. She promised to recover, and I promised to answer her calls from rehab, where she would stay for a year. “We’ll change the world,” she told me before she left. “You and me, let’s get people to care.” I promised we would and meant it. This blog is the first step in that process, of getting people to care. To read Darla’s full story, please visit Her Story.
About Darla's Story
Central to the mission of Darla’s Story is art. On each page and below, you’ll find images of drawings. Imperfect and elementary in skill, their meaning and exigence is anything but. Art existed at the heart of my relationship with Darla.
While we only had access to dull, broken pencils and cracked watercolors, we bonded over each scratch of the graphite and stroke of the brush. Darla couldn’t draw, but she knew deeply the beauty of art. Each piece was a joint effort, a spirited collaboration of passion derived from her vivid imagination. I listened to her the best I could, replicating her words with careful deliberation and patience. We were both emotional, at times. Visits from the doctors and nurses interrupted our art sessions. The rooms we were confined to had plexiglass windows meant to keep us in. The scenes we drew seemed so distant, so far away. For Darla, they will always be far away.
While I returned home to a family and home, Darla did not. She will never get to live in or even see a house like the ones she told me to draw. They will forever exist in her imagination, perpetually and forever out of reach. Any form of safe and permanent housing is far out of reach for Darla, and she isn’t alone in this plight.
In 2023, the Annual Homelessness Assessment Report found that more than half a million people in America lack permanent shelters. Of the roughly 650,000 sufferers, 40% were left without access to temporary shelter.
Together, we can and must do more to help people like Darla, those who struggle with homelessness, and its many interdependent risk factors. Before we can help the Darlas of the world, we must first work to understand and humanize them.
As you explore this blog, you’ll find research and statistics associated with homelessness and other interdependent risk factors such as mental illness and addiction. You’ll also find a plethora of links to resources and organizations that already work to solve these pressing issues. This is what Darla wanted: for her voice to be told and used as a catalyst for societal understanding and change.
