HARTFORD, Conn. - Connecticut plans to close a transitional living facility in Hartford next month for people ages 18 to 25, which means fewer resources available for mental-health and addiction treatment for young adults.

The 10-bed Hilltop Residential Program was run through the Young Adult Services Division of the state Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services, or DMHAS. Hilltop's closure means the state is losing 10 of the 31 beds in the region for young adults in crisis.

Rob Baril, president of the union SEIU-1199 New England, called it "shocking" that the state would eliminate the program during a pandemic.

"The relationship between patients in mental-health treatment programs and their clinician is one that really only advances when there's a relationship of trust that is built," he said. "If this were not a community that is an overwhelmingly Black and Brown community, would these services be eliminated?"

There currently are five people residing at Hilltop. A DMHAS spokesperson said they'll be moved to similar facilities in Hartford, and that DMHAS is working to establish 10 new residential placements so the reduction in services isn't permanent.

Avis Ward, a case manager at Hilltop for 11 years, said it's upsetting to see the program close because of the specialized, 24-hour care it provides. Ward said she thinks it's critical that the state reopen a facility nearby, in Hartford's North End, so people know where to turn for help.

"Most of our clients already have a history of being traumatized. This only forces them to feel that they are being abruptly displaced from where they feel the most safe," she said. "To be suddenly told that they will be moved to another, unknown situation only triggers fear, anxiety and flashbacks."

Statewide, DMHAS serves about 1,500 people a year through its Young Adult Services program. The agency has said Hilltop's 13 staff members will transition to other open positions through DMHAS.


get more stories like this via email

By Enrique Saenz for Mirror Indy.
Broadcast version by Terri Dee for Indiana News Service reporting for the Mirror Indy-Free Press Indiana-Public News Service Collaboration.

For more than seven decades, the Wilbur Shaw Memorial Soap Box Derby Hill has served as a place for Indianapolis families with the need for speed to get their thrills.

The 1,000-foot hill on West 20th Street near Marian University is the country’s longest track. At the city park, drivers climb into aerodynamic fiberglass cars on top of the hill and harness the power of gravity to get to the bottom as fast as possible.

Indianapolis Soap Box Derby racers go downhill at speeds of more than 30 miles per hour — fast enough to get a speeding ticket in some parts of the city.

Racers meet at the hill several times a year for races. They accrue points at the events that allow some to compete at the national level — the Soap Box Derby World Championships in Akron, Ohio.

For 13-year old Shelton Taylor, soap box racing is in his blood. His great uncle was a soap box racer, but Taylor didn’t become involved in the sport until a fateful drive past the Wilbur Shaw Hill.

“Me and my mom were driving past the track, and we saw a whole bunch of people just coming down the track. She asked me if I wanted to do it. I said, ‘Yeah,’ so she did a U-turn to the top of the gate,” Taylor said.

Taylor signed up, learned how to race and a few years later became the Indianapolis 2024 All American Super Stock Challenge champion, the first African American to do so.

His father, Marvin Taylor, sees soap box derby racing as a family sport.

“It’s a good sport for young kids to get involved in,” Marvin Taylor said. “It’s something different than basketball or soccer. It’s just like the Indy 500 without an engine.”

It’s not just Indianapolis families that come to the hill. Families from around the Midwest and the South make the trip to Indianapolis’ west side to compete.

The Weaver family makes the trek from Owensboro, Kentucky several times a year.

The kids, 12-year-old Melanie and 13-year-old Brandon, drive the cars — and parents Eddie and Effie act as the pit crew.

“We quickly realized it’s a family sport. It’s one of the only sports where parent involvement is critical. It’s like you’re a team with your child,” said Effie Weaver.

For the driver, racing is a thrill. They go down the hill with their heads tucked in to increase speed. They control the car through a pulley system found inside the frame. Drivers only expose a small bit of their face to reduce drag. As a result, they can only see a small portion of track ahead of them and must plan their moves ahead of time.

“At first, I was like, ‘So you’re telling me I’m going down a hill in a plastic car with a wood bottom, and you’re expecting me to trust that,’” said Melanie Weaver. “It’s fun, but at the same time it’s a little stressful.”

More experienced racers drive sleek cars, called Masters Cars, where they essentially drive lying on their back. They wear a helmet that reduces wind resistance but leaves only a small crack between the bottom of the helmet and the top of the car frame through which the driver can see.

Haughville resident William Pickens, 16, drives a Masters Car, but his 6-foot, 2-inch tall frame has to slowly squeeze into a car designed for, at most, a 6-foot-tall child.

“My feet do hit the end of the car, but it’s not that bad,” Pickens said.

The sport is open to children and young adults ages 7 to 20. Indianapolis Soap Box Derby director Bob Getts said the association helps families get into the sport by having cars that families can use to start racing.

“We have more cars than kids right now, and we try to make it easy for families to try and see if it’s something for them,” he said. “We get them in one of our cars, let them get the thrill of the hill and see where it goes from there.”

Car prices range from $700 to $1,500, but the association helps racers find sponsors to defray the cost.

The International Soap Box Derby, the Indianapolis association’s parent organization, also has a program for children with disabilities called the Super Kids League. The league uses two-seat, dual-control derby cars that pairs kids with an experienced co-pilot to compete.

To learn more about the Indianapolis Soap Box Derby, head to the association’s website or call 317-446-5462.


Enrique Saenz wrote this article for Mirror Indy.


get more stories like this via email

A group of Washington youths, fresh from a grassroots leadership development program, is speaking up against the Trump Administration's plans to cut funding for social programs while investing more in the country's military.

The group of young people recently concluded the Young Activist Leaders Program, which teaches social justice and community organizing.

Nico Jaggar, youth organizer for the Peace and Justice Action League of Spokane, is one of the youth leaders of the program. He said in the wake of the Trump Administration's pledging $1 trillion to the military, the group decided to wrap up the program's spring session by organizing a rally.

"We don't want our money going to war," Jaggar explained. "We'd rather our money go to food stamps, social security, health care. Those are the things that actually save and improve lives versus war is this machine that just destroys."

The rally featured youth speakers as well as community leaders for fair housing and immigrant rights. The program is an 8- to 10-week paid internship run by the Peace and Justice Action League of Spokane. It will have another session in the fall.

Many issues sparked Jaggar to get involved in organizing and he said access to health care and insurance for low-income people hit close to home.

"I've watched my community, my family be affected by lack of medical care," Jaggar pointed out. "It's an awful thing to just have to accept that you can't get help."

Jaggar added as a young person, especially below voting age, it can be easy to feel powerless. But he emphasized young people are paying attention and deserve the opportunity to have a say in their own future.

"You can do that through organizing, like our YALP program," Jaggar noted. "Or volunteering, or just taking a stance and saying, 'Hey, this isn't right.'"

Along with helping youth feel empowered, Jaggar stressed, learning community organizing skills is fun. He added the program's fall session will focus on voter engagement.

A unique approach to preventing youth homelessness in Washington is proving highly effective, with more than 93% of participants still housed one year later.

The Homelessness Prevention and Diversion Fund provides flexible aid to young people in nine Washington counties. In its first three years, it has helped more than 1,700 young people find safe housing. Washington has the nation's third-highest homelessness rate, and supporters say the program saves money by removing red tape and keeping youth out of shelters.

Jim Theofelis, founder and executive director of NorthStar Advocates, said the strategy is simple: Ask youth what they need.

"We actually asked the young person, 'Where can you live and what will that take to make that happen?'" Theofelis explained. "Which is a very different approach than saying, 'Go to that shelter three miles down and take a right.'"

Instead of using a central nonprofit, Theofelis pointed out the program trains advocates in places where homeless youth go for help, like drop-in centers and fire stations, so they can quickly access funds to get into safe housing. Lawmakers are considering cuts to the program, which Theofelis warned would raise state costs and reduce support for young people.

Most young people have somewhere safe they can go, Theofelis added but they may need a small financial boost to make the transition.

"Some people will say, 'I could live with grandma, but she's really poor and she needs some help.' Or, 'I'm 23, I have two friends and I could get a room with them if I had first and last month's rent,'" Theofelis outlined.

Theofelis noted youth typically face more steps to find housing, starting with shelters and case management, while the fund's approach is much faster. After an application, advocates ensure the housing is safe and send a one-time payment averaging $2,700 directly where it's needed. Theofelis emphasized it is much cheaper than other strategies.

"We're saving emergency shelter beds, all kinds of other funding sources that come into play once they hit the streets," Theofelis stressed. "We really think this saves money and helps reduce our budget deficit, as well as saving lives."

Of the teens and young adults the program has served, about 60% are people of color and nearly 40% are pregnant or parenting.


get more stories like this via email