Andrea Good

She was in her 90’s at the time, living alone, suffering from Alzheimer’s, prone to falling, and increasingly unable to take care of herself. While neighbors and responders thought it might be best for her to be living in a seniors’ home, she refused.

It turns out that she was an escapee from Nazi Germany and spent some of the war years hiding and protected in Christian churches. The thought of facilities or institutions evoked troubling, even terrifying memories, and she said she preferred to die before ever leaving her home.

Through a combination of legal, social, and medical and therapeutic assistance, the elderly woman was allowed to remain in her house with an assigned, fulltime caretaker – her dignity, sensitivities, and needs respected and met.

It didn’t have to end this well, and it often doesn’t. But in this case, a network of expertise and support began surrounding her, one inclined to find and establish new norms for such cases of distress, and eschew practices that very often result in even greater suffering.

“The reality is that people meet crisis, and it can be anyone and at anytime,” said Dr. Mickey Schindler. “We would like to think things only happen on the other side of the fence. But suddenly, things break down. Some outcomes are better and more desirable than others.”

Dr. Schindler is one of the founding visionaries – and now director – of MARVA – Law, Welfare and Empowerment, a Jerusalem-based non-profit organization established by a group of Israeli attorneys and social welfare experts. The acronym itself mirrors the Hebrew words for law, welfare and empowerment, the three legs supporting MARVA’s mission and approach.

The organization, a Good People Fund grantee, assists and uplifts vulnerable populations – from elderly at risk, to individuals with mental disabilities – facing difficulties caring for their own well-being and protecting their own rights.

How it does so is a departure from the standard, which is so often siloed and one-dimensional, applying a this-or-that approach that is less than optimal. Instead, MARVA embodies and models a holistic approach combining legal aid and advocacy for full legal rights while also facilitating and integrating social welfare and therapeutic support.

It’s a multi-disciplinary design making it possible to provide comprehensive solutions to issues affecting the lives and independence of at-risk individuals and families across the spectrum of need, challenge, and crisis.

“So often, legal or social welfare or therapeutic approaches are not enough or sufficient on their own,” said Dr. Schindler, an attorney specializing in elder and disabilities law who has training in social work. “Each can be effective in some way, but not in a whole way, and not give a complete sort of intervention and solution.”

Since its founding in 2015, MARVA has ingrained itself into Israel’s legal and social welfare ecosystem, offering protections and guidance to – for example – older adults undergoing or at risk of abuse or neglect, people with dementia and Alzheimer’s and their families, Holocaust survivors, and young adults with mental or abuse challenges.

A small part of its casework – but one that is expected to grow – is in the realm of “supported decision making,” an alternative to guardianship that assists older people or those with mental or cognitive disabilities to preserve their independence, liberties and autonomy. In fact, MARVA is in a two-year project with two other organizations – JDC-Israel Unlimited and Mosaica ­– to deploy and utilize the practice more nationally throughout Israel.

The organization has built relationships with nearly 50 municipalities throughout the country, working with and enhancing the services of social welfare agencies and stepping into cases. Last year alone, MARVA reached over 2,100 people through personal assistance and casework, and more than 4,000 people through public lecture, advocacy, and education programs.

Its reach continues to expand, sensitive to the fact that Israel’s peripheral regions have less access to services, even though there may be greater need due to lower socio-economic profiles. With Good People Fund support, MARVA recently opened a center in Safed – in the Galilee region of northern Israel – and plans to open another one in the far south.

Six years since its establishment, MARVA has put into practice what was mere theory, formalizing networks of support and activating connections to serve the most vulnerable.

“We didn’t invent this, but we weren’t willing to leave it in the books either,” Dr. Schindler said, adding that marva is also the Hebrew word for Salvia, a healing plant. “Ideas can be beautiful, but it’s more important to implement them in the real world.

“People meet crisis and as much as we can help and empower them with sensitivity and give them all they need so they can continue living their lives with dignity and agency, that is our goal. Life can be complicated and people need help and assistance and that’s simply what we try to do.”

By H. Glenn Rosenkrantz

An unexpected moment of sadness and isolation visited Dr. Anita Shkedi as thoughts of her son Jonathan – an Israel Defense Forces soldier who lost his life in conflict – overwhelmed her.

At the time, she was at an equine center she had founded on the Israeli coast to advance the practice of therapeutic horseback riding. A Pinto horse named Starlight sensed her distress and came close.

“I may have started to cry, as feelings were coming up in me,” she remembered. “She put her head up against me. She pushed into me and we were bonded. As I let my feelings out, she was telling me she was there for me.”

There on the cover of Dr. Shkedi’s just-published book, Horses Heal PTSD – Walking New Paths, is a picture of that very moment. A documentary filmmaker, who happened to be on the property that day, captured it.

Considering that Dr. Shkedi is an established authority on the relational history between humans and horses – and the immense mental and physical healing benefits that can flow from it – the fact that she herself was the recipient at a time of raw vulnerability is remarkable, and makes the book itself even more passionately grounded.

“I will never forget it,” she said. “It was one of the most emotional and genuine moments I’ve had with a horse. It was like together we were not in this universe.”

It is of this relationship that she writes over 238 pages of contextual histories and case studies of how PTSD – afflicting all manner of people from children who have been sexually abused, and soldiers who saw and endured the horrors of conflict, to women who have been raped, and youth living with domestic violence – can be mitigated through purposefully designed interaction with horses, including caring for and riding them, and creating bonds.

The research and practice is colloquially known as therapeutic horseback riding, and more formally as Equine Assisted Activities and/or Therapy (EAA/T). Dr. Shkedi – a pioneer in the discipline – adds to the growing literature on the subject with the new book.

“It is heavy stuff,” she said. “But I hope to the lay reader, this will be almost a self-help book. People have multiple traumas and they spend a lot of time trying to shut them out and avoid the monsters coming to the surface. We need to deal with them and instill hope.

“You can’t quick fix PTSD. You have to work it through a process until you can manage it so it doesn’t take over every part of your brain. That is my aim, by using our relationship with horses and the non-verbal communication that occurs to restore trust and build healing.”

The book is Dr. Shkedi’s second. In 2012, she authored Traumatic Brain Injury and Therapeutic Riding, a more clinical examination of how horse-based therapies can be used to help people suffering severe head injuries.

In 2003, Dr. Shkedi and her husband, Giora, founded the Israel National Therapeutic Riding Association (INTRA) – a veteran and longtime grantee organization of The Good People Fund – as a national center for EAA/T in Israel.

It serves a full spectrum of children, youth and adults with significant life challenges to improve their long-term physical, social, and emotional well being, and is particular known for its work with IDF soldiers with PTSD.

Of the book’s reception so far, Dr. Shkedi said she is already in contact with people seeking help. One woman in Texas, for example, reached out because her 10-year-old son is experiencing PTSD due to multiple physical and psychological traumas.

“If through this book I can give hope to those who are suffering, then it’s done its job.”

Dr. Shkedi will read from her new book and answer questions on a live Zoom event at 1 pm Eastern on Wednesday, May 5.  To register, visit www.anitashkedi.com.

By H. Glenn Rosenkrantz

Walk through the inner city and other challenged areas and you’ll see a different food landscape than across town: fewer grocery stores, more fast-food places, and unhealthy choices. FEAST (Food – Education – Access – Support – Together), an LA-based organization supported by The Good People Fund, is changing that reality. FEAST Executive Director Dana Rizer describes how.

Courtney Smith was out of college and living with housemates in Detroit when the doorbell rang. Her brother, six years younger, was homeless and without resources and needed help.

She took him in, at least for the interim. But soon, a handful of his friends from the street – all in similar circumstances – were camped out on air mattresses strewn throughout the basement.

The situation was all too disturbingly and shockingly familiar. Courtney herself had grown up in the foster care system, and was adopted into a family, but left at age 15 due to family conflict and ended up couch surfing, doubling up, and living in shelters. And even in college, she faced housing insecurity.

“Homelessness is very personal to me,” she said. “It can be a cyclical issue that goes on for generations if we don’t do something about it.”

And so she set out to do so, starting on a determined path that led to the founding in 2016 of Detroit Phoenix Center (DPC), the city’s first-ever drop-in center for street-connected youth. DPC is a new grantee organization of The Good People Fund.

The organization offers various low-barrier portals into a safe space for teens and young adults who are at risk of or experiencing homelessness. There, they can access basics that can mean survival – from showers, meals, laundry services, lockers, day beds, and other needs, to career and life skills workshops, computer labs, housing crisis support … and a community of care and concern.

Pre-pandemic, DPC reached and engaged about 150 teens and young adults each year. But for the very fact that there is simply no other such place in Detroit – one designed with a holistic approach to help them with immediate and daily needs, and also to disrupt predictable and unwelcome trajectories – many may have disappeared into the environment with no trace or hope.

As COVID-19 has resulted in increasingly restricted access to DPC, and quite literally exposed a severely vulnerable population to illness and death, the organization has taken to the streets. It is finding street-connected youth where they congregate and live to bring them mobile- and virtual-supported help, assistance and counsel – ranging from basics like face masks and hand sanitizer, to healthy food and housing vouchers.

“Many don’t have anywhere to go to shelter in place,” Courtney said. “Many don’t have access to running water and soap to wash their hands for 20 seconds. Many are living in abandoned buildings in groups of ten or more, and transmission is an issue.

“We’ve had to change our whole service provision during this time and be innovative. They are very high risk and vulnerable during a pandemic. We have to be out there.”

At the heart of DPC is Courtney’s recognition that it would be nothing if not informed by the youth that it attracts and serves. In fact, she labels herself a “servant leader.”

“The work we do is truly driven by heart and humility and selflessness,” she said. “There is no ego here. The youth are the ones who have to be centered and elevated. Their lived experiences form the fabric of DPC, and intentionality in putting their voices first is key to allowing them to be served effectively.”

In fact, DPC has a “Youth Action Board” that provides leadership and personal development for members who have direct experience with homelessness and other adverse societal conditions as they give input into DPC programming, services and reach, and advocate for positive systemic change.

Ask Courtney what’s at the heart of her passion and commitment to uplift and help vulnerable youth in Detroit, and she speaks about that “lived experience.” It’s a term that comes up frequently in conversation with her, framing as it does a worldview of not only challenges, but also solutions.

It took on even deeper significance and meaning when her brother, Blair – who knocked on her door at a moment of need just a few short years earlier – died by suicide at the age of 19. It was on the eve of the opening of DPC, which he’d helped to envision and design, and where he was voted by peers as first president of the Youth Action Board.

“There is a pain point for me in this work,” Courtney said. “Those can either cripple us or force us to show up in the world as the best versions of ourselves. I chose the latter.”

By H. Glenn Rosenkrantz, for The Good People Fund

With nine moves in just the last 15 years – to places as vastly different as Japan and Alabama – Kristen Bloom knows something about dislocation.

“I grew up in a small New England town. We would go to the market and see people we knew. There were people to lean on, neighbors and friends who are a strong network of help and support and compassion.

“I realized the importance of that especially over the past decade and a half, with all the moving around to places where I didn’t know anyone,” says Kristen, whose husband serves in the Air Force and is often reassigned. “Dislocation is my middle name.”

When she and her family landed in South Florida in 2017, and she came to know people within the Syrian refugee community there – and their struggles adjusting to new lives and meeting new challenges – it was natural her connection and sensitivity would move her to do something.

That same year she founded Refugee Assistance Alliance (RAA) to help refugees from Middle Eastern, African and Asian countries settling in south Florida – specifically in Broward and Miami-Dade Counties. RAA is a new grantee of The Good People Fund.

“I felt compelled,” Kristen says. “I know what it’s like to start over, but I don’t know the trauma. They have been through so much more than any of us can even imagine. They were in need of a support network that just didn’t exist here.”

In just the three years that it’s been operating, RAA and its corps of about 100 volunteers has helped close to 175 individuals – adults and children – as they strive to gain footing in a new landscape of language, bureaucracy, and custom.

While RAA places a high priority on teaching English to new refugees, it has established what Kristen calls a “holistic” approach to resettlement, recognizing that it is not just basic skills that lead to success, but also relationships, friendships and community.

That’s a challenge in the sprawling two-county region, she says. Compared to the large and thriving Spanish-speaking refugee communities there, Middle Eastern, African, and Asian refugees make up a relatively small percentage of the population and are often geographically isolated from one another – a fact that makes their needs even greater than just language skills.

“The refugees may only know three other families and they are all in the same boat, not established,” Kristen says. “It’s like the blind leading the blind.”

Knowing that, RAA also designs cultural events to build strong ties within the refugee community and to create exposures and learning opportunities for those beyond it; programs for refugee children to guard against isolation and to build long-lasting friendships; tutoring to assist children and adults in school and other learning environments to ensure advancement; and initiatives to help individuals and families navigate everything from citizenship and driving tests, to the healthcare system and emergency preparedness.

The need for building both practical skills and community is great, Kristen says, noting that while new refugees are typically under the wing of resettlement agencies, help usually ends after a relatively short three to six months. RAA gets referrals from these, the Florida Center for Survivors of Torture, Church World Service, and word of mouth.

As the coronavirus pandemic has hit communities hard since last spring, RAA has pivoted away from in-person visits to Zoom-based gatherings. The organization gifted laptops to each of its clients so they can remain connected and continue with virtual tutoring and visits.

In fact, all of the 47 school-age children who depend on RAA for academic tutoring advanced to the next grade level this year, a development that Kristen describes as “a huge victory during extra-challenging times.”

As an impact-maker in her corner of South Florida, Kristen is also involved in refugee issues nationally. She is part of the Hello Neighbor Network, a consortium of nine organizations similar to RAA throughout the country. The network was founded in 2019 and is supported by The Good People Fund.

The work of its member organizations will be more critical in coming years as the number of refugees entering the country is expected to increase, Kristen says.

“We are in uncharted territory. Many of us are less than five years old. There is no blueprint for what we are doing. So it’s critically important that we learn from each other and share best practices so we can best serve those in our communities.”

Ask Kristen to describe that one moment that made her know she was doing the right thing at the right moment and she doesn’t pause.

She tells the story of one refugee from Syria who was having such a hard time adjusting to life in the United States that she was considering going back to her homeland. But with the continuing encouragement, support and community she received from RAA, she stayed and earned her GED and is a role model of success and inspiration to her own children.

And that, Kristen said, is a success of the people-to-people connections that are at the heart of RAA’s mission and her own.

“People are just people, yearning for connections, and you don’t need the same culture or language or religion to get that,” she said. “Our ultimate goal is to build peace and understanding among the people of South Florida. I believe it’s harder to hate up close.”

By H. Glenn Rosenkrantz, for The Good People Fund

If you’re looking for Larry Oleinick on a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, just spot the blue Chrysler Pacifica that’s parked in Hart Plaza in central Detroit.

It’s there that he and a small contingent of co-workers set up an oasis, of sorts, for dozens of people who are homeless or experiencing severe hardship.

Here, they find outstretched hands holding sandwiches and snacks, a cup of coffee, a needed new hoodie or pair of socks, and any number of other life-sustaining essentials.

But perhaps most importantly, they find a community. Because it’s in Hart Plaza, by the van, that they are known by their names, and they feel counted, and that means everything in a world that often shuns them or renders them invisible.

“The greatest gift we can give to people is letting them know they are not alone,” said Larry. “We do that by showing up.”

Larry founded Heart 2 Hart Detroit – a new grantee organization of The Good People Fund – in 2012, after a career in the dental supply business. Talk to him for any length of time, and it becomes clear how and why he landed in this place.

It was during his teenage and young adult years, after all, that his parents organized an extended-family project each Passover, setting up card tables in their suburban Detroit home and putting everyone on an assembly line to pack boxes full of matzo, candies, and other holiday items.

When that was done, everyone got a mapped-out route to deliver the boxes to those in need, including people in nursing homes and assisted living facilities.

“I was fortunate enough to have parents who wanted to get involved and help people,” Larry said. “They modeled this for me and it rubbed off. Kindness doesn’t just fall out of the sky, you have to make it happen.”

The turning point came for him one hot summer Tuesday off from work, when he decided in the moment to take a cooler on wheels and some simple snacks to downtown Detroit and see who he could help.

“I realized the comfort I could give by handing a bottle of water and a bag of chips and a minute or two of conversation to people with virtually nothing,” he said.  “Many of them had had one bad break and didn’t make it back and their lives went spiraling down. That could happen to any of us.

“I’d been thinking about it for years. I wanted to get out of the business world and do something to help people all the time. So I took the leap. You don’t need a degree for this. Just a heart.”

Heart 2 Hart Detroit was born and established very shortly after that. With monetary and in-kind donations, it reaches about 100 people every day out in the field, and has grown to the extent that in 2019 alone, it distributed over 14,000 lunches, 140 winter coats, 6,100 hygiene product items, 5,500 pairs of socks, and the list goes on. And, all from that blue Pacifica van parked in Hart Plaza and now other locations in the city as well, like parks, shelters, and largely abandoned streets.

The organization is firmly rooted in the belief that interactions with those it helps are not merely transactional. Indeed, its success and deep impact is fueled by trust formed between those it helps, and Heart 2 Hart Detroit’s staff and corps of volunteers.

“If you give people consistency and honesty and a smile, that goes a long way to build a relationship and grow friendship,” Larry said. “We go way beyond food and clothing, to honoring them with integrity as individuals, and finding out what is going on and how we might be able to somehow help.”

In fact, Heart 2 Heart Detroit has connected those it serves to community service organizations, rehab facilities, estranged family members, and even to potential employees. Larry freely gives his phone number to those he meets on the streets, a literal lifeline for some.

With the coronavirus pandemic affecting interactions and patterns nearly universally, Larry and his team are adjusting, but a level of intimacy has been lost, for now at least.

“There is now by necessity a lot of physical space between us and there are aspects that get lost when you can’t hug someone or talk too closely. There is a confidence and a trust that is lost. We make sure they are getting everything they need, of course, but it is a challenge. Hopefully we can make up for all that is lost soon enough.”

In the meantime, that blue Pacifica, with Larry at the wheel, will be there, as everyone who relies on it expects it to be. “Nothing will stop us,” Larry said.

By H. Glenn Rosenkrantz, for The Good People Fund