***The following story is in Marian’s own words***
I will begin by telling the story of my past, and the circumstances, which have brought me to UMOM.
I was born in Montreal Canada on September 28th, 1960 and adopted to my parents at the age of three months. My parents, both caring and successful, had full intentions of raising a family of eight adopted children from different ethnic backgrounds. I was a good student in my younger years.
As a child I was always drawn to healthcare. Often I could be found watching surgical procedures instead of cartoons. When I turned 16, my parents divorced and I was devastated. Staying at home was just too painful for me, so I left my family home and set out on my own. I spent many years traveling around the world, visiting underprivileged countries and learning about other cultures. During this time, I saw starvation, lack of healthcare and suffering that I never new existed. I developed a yearning to help sick and the needy people that never left me.
After visiting the United States, I met my first husband and had a son, Aaron. I was granted permanent resident status in 1985. My husband and I decided to make our home in Anchorage Alaska. We created and maintained two successful businesses and gave back to our community when we could. Ten years later, having grown apart, we decided to end our marriage. At the age of thirty, I remarried and had a second son, Terrance, who resides with me now.
After divorcing once again, at the age of forty, my second son and I moved from Anchorage to Phoenix to try to rebuild our lives. It was a devastating breakup and both my son and I experienced a great sense of loss. I created a plan to pursue my education and to obtain my degree in nursing.
I settled in Phoenix, met a man, and moved into a nice home in Mesa. I put my education on hold to help support my family, working as a waitress during the day and being a home maker and mother at night.
Thus begins my downward spiral.
In 2001 my son’s father showed up on my doorstep from Hawaii. My ex husband and my boyfriend got into a fist fight in front of our house and I was upset, got into the car after I had been drinking and was pulled over. I completed all the terms of this sentence with flying colors, however in taking care of these terms, I had to miss several shifts at work and, eventually, lost my job, then my house. All of our belongings went into a storage unit and we moved into a weekly rental in Tempe.
My ex-boyfriend took everything I owned from our house and our storage shed, including my vehicle, and destroyed anything that was left over. All of my documents (immigration documents, green card, etc.) were gone.
Once again having to start over, with no family in United States for support, I was devastated. Finding a job was impossible without any of my immigration documents and replacing them cost money I did not have. I had enough money left over to rent a small studio for my son and I, but soon, the money ran out. Being resourceful, I learned that I could recycle metal for pennies. We were able to stay at friends houses, on and off, until my son and I were literally living on the streets of Phoenix.
In 2005, we were officially homeless. My homelessness effected every aspect of my life, emotionally, physically and spiritually. Shame and regret consumed me.
Not having any identification to prove my residency made the next years of my life almost unbearable. I was not able to obtain employment or get any assistance for my desperate situation. I struggled continuously every day to keep going, seeking help from local churches. Terrance would go to school during the day and we would meet on the lawn at 4.00pm of the Salvation Army every afternoon. They would take us to different churches throughout the neighborhood, were we would get fed a good meal and a cot to sleep on for the night. We did this every day for three weeks.
In July 2007, the last day of my stay at the Salvation Army, I was a victim of a violent assault by a stranger while scrapping for metal. I was injured with a slit throat and over 40 cuts on my body and taken to the hospital. My son spent the next 10 hours alone at the Salvation Army not knowing if I was dead or alive. I remained in my hospital bed in shock, full of pain killers, not knowing where I was.
Because I was homeless, the hospital sent me back to the church in an ambulance after 10 hours, despite the seriousness of my injuries. I reunited with my son and the church brought me to a domestic violence shelter, where I was allowed to stay for thirty days. I continued recycling metal to make a few dollars to survive, in spite of the trauma from the assault. After our stay at that shelter was over, I found a room for my son at Tumbleweed Homeless Shelter for teens so I could be sure that he was safe. Meanwhile, I continued to recycle metal so I could pay his program fees and continued my stay on the streets of Phoenix.
As the time ran out for my sons stay at Tumbleweed, I found UMOM New Day Centers, a family emergency shelter in Phoenix. My son and I were accepted into the program after being on a waiting list for six weeks.
Thus begins my salvation.
At UMOM’s homeless shelter for families, I began to rebuild my life. After accomplishing what I needed to, my son and I were accepted into the 2 year transitional program at UMOM. As far as I am concerned, UMOM New Day Centers saved my life.
Since I began my residency at UMOM, I completed all that was expected of me and I continue to maintain my responsibilities in the program to this day. With the help of the UMOM Employment Specialist, I was able to begin the process of acquiring the necessary immigration documents and birth records for both my son and myself. It would take six months to receive my green card and to receive the information from Canada that had been destroyed. During this waiting period, I personally sought out counseling services from Dynamic Living to heal the trauma I had experienced.
With no immigration documents, my options were still limited, but I was able to graduate the Goodwill Computer Class through Gateway Community College. Finally, after receiving my immigration paper work, I became eligible for DES and TANF benefits. This allowed me to keep up with my program fees at the shelter and get a cell phone. Meanwhile, the Employment Specialist and I worked on updating my resume, while my case manager created a case plan and helped me stay on track with my goals. I was referred to Vocational Rehabilitation, received a vocational case plan, and was able to get help with education expenses and my rehabilitation needs. I worked with the on site Crisis Counselors at the shelter when I needed emotional support and took full advantage of any help that was offered to me for my full financial, emotional and spiritual recovery.
With the help of Vocational Rehabilitation, and my Employment Specialist, I revisited and recreated my plan to pursue my education and fulfill my dream of becoming a nurse.
For the first time, it seemed this dream was actually going to come true. I forged on ahead, letting nothing stand in my way. Since beginning school, I have been awarded several scholarships and have won awards for my academic achievements. I currently maintain a 4.0 GPA. I am so proud of my accomplishments in the last year and a half, and I finally feel that I have become the person I have always knew was buried beneath my pain.
I feel the experiences I have been through have made me stronger and more focused. I have no more time to waste. I have a lot to give as a person who has lived through some extreme situations and I have learned some powerful, and painful, lessons. I have confronted and addressed my demons, faced my past, and believe that I have rehabilitated myself. With help from my new support system and some new, healthier tools of survival, I am confident I will never revisit that life.
I am dedicated to my education and to give back to my new community, paying it forward whenever possible. I have truly changed the course of my life and I am committed to being an upstanding citizen in my community. I count my blessings every day.
