At the University of Mount Saint Vincent, home was an unfamiliar comfort to five young women who spent years relying solely on themselves.
The university launched a program called Dax House two summers ago, in partnership with nonprofits Depaul USA and Sisters of Charity of New York, to support its students — from juniors to recent graduates — experiencing housing insecurity. The group there now pays about $250 a month, according to Mel Reyes, Depaul’s Dax program director for New York.
Dax is inside Rosary Hall on the university’s campus, which was renovated a few years ago after the Sisters living there relocated. The kitchen was gutted and filled with new appliances, the floors were replaced with hardwood and vintage furniture was secured through donations, now lining the walls of eight bedrooms. The ceilings are high and the windows wide, letting light flood into the living space and glisten on the floor.
Residents described their dynamic as one big friend group. Waking up, grocery shopping, cleaning, playing board games — they do it all together, often gathering on the pastel couches they push close together, covered in heaps of blankets and studying into the night.
Hints of the bond the women share are scattered throughout. They draw kitten doodles and smiley faces on each other’s whiteboards outside their bedroom doors, or write notes like “I love you more.” The plants on their kitchen windowsill are covered with Post-it reminders such as “I’m proud of you” and “Breathe, you got this.”
Reyes said the residents have diverse circumstances that led them to Dax — eviction, neglectful or abusive homes, restraining orders on someone in the house, being shamed for their gender or sexual identity — but are united in the fact that they lack familial support, and did what was necessary, on their own, to get to college. They need what Reyes described as a “bridge,” or transitional housing that also sets them up with a case manager who can help them obtain adult necessities like insurance and food security. Homelessness in college is usually an “invisible problem,” she explained, as young adults try to quietly navigate a living situation while still showing up to class and work, masking it by couch surfing or living out of a car.
For A.O., the house manager who requested anonymity due to safety concerns, that bridge came after years of unrest. She recently graduated from the university with a degree in psychology, and wants to become a social worker. Right now, A.O. is a high school placement counselor at an all-girls middle school.
Now 23, A.O. moved to New York from Boston when she was 18 — one week after her high school graduation — explaining she had “nowhere else to go.” In the last few months of her senior year, she lost her last semi-stable living situation, with a family friend she had known since she was a little girl. A.O. said the man tried to touch her inappropriately, and threatened to tell his wife lies about her.
Needing to get away, A.O. packed some clothes into three small bags and left. She started jumping from house to house, sleeping on friends’ floors. Her daily routine was exhausting — a full school day, an hour commute to work, coming home close to midnight, repeat. Her mental health plummeted and she developed sleep paralysis, a condition where the person is trapped between being awake and asleep, leaving the body paralyzed and the brain prone to hallucination.
Desperate for an escape, she left for the university. A.O. had secured a scholarship that covered her tuition and housing — a crucial need with no financial support from her dad or older siblings — and spent the summer taking classes. Years later, she’s still working on balancing life with her mental health, and untraining her body from a perpetual state of fight or flight.
More than anything, she said she’s grown into a healthier version of herself. A.O. is financially stable, has a solid routine of meal prepping and working out, and being a house manager brought out a more outgoing side of her.
“When I was in high school, I didn’t think that I would be alive to go to college,” A.O. said. “I’m very proud of myself for that, and also doing all of it by myself.”
This is her first year at Dax House, and A.O. described it as a load off her back that allowed her to get her finances and mental wellbeing settled. She’s hoping to get her own place soon.
“Everything is possible with just time and patience,” A.O. said, adding it’s critical to have faith, self-belief, and effort toward realizing your goals.
Another Dax House resident, 22-year-old Grace Pavlock is a public policy major who was raised in Texas. She currently has an on-campus job in social media, but it is her ultimate goal to hold a seat in public office.
Pavlock grew up in her grandparents’ house, shared by several other siblings and family members. Her parents were never fully present, and her dad died while she was in high school. After graduation, Pavlock worked alongside her grandma at a fabric company while doing online classes for her associate degree. When she started to apply to colleges afterward, it was unfamiliar terrain.
“Nobody in my family at all has ever been to college,” Pavlock said. “It’s never been a talk. It’s never been a thing.”
Pavlock had to navigate the complex process of applying to college as a low-income student on her own — financial aid forms, application fees, deadlines — all against the advice of family members. Since she got to Dax House last August, she said she’s transformed.
“I’ve been growing in ways that I didn’t expect,” Pavlock said, explaining though she is currently struggling to find another job, her mental health has improved drastically. “I feel like I’m a completely different person than who I was on that plane ride.”
The first thing that struck her was the silence. From living in a crammed house where “someone’s always got the TV on, someone’s always yelling,” to Riverdale, she recalled sitting on her bed for nearly an hour, absorbing a strange sense of serenity.
According to The Hope Center for Student Basic Needs, 48 percent of college students experience housing insecurity, and 14 percent experience homelessness. The definition of housing insecurity is broad, ranging from poor living conditions to affordability to safety. Pavlock emphasized that’s the point.
“Homelessness is not something that’s uniform,” she said. “A lot of us are very thankful to never have had to go on the street … Our situations at home are just not good enough to stay. We know there’s better places out there.”