On this Memorial Day we remember those who have served our country and paid the ultimate price for our freedom and security. All of our brave veterans are heroes. Unfortunately some of them return home and face both financial and legal hardship. The Neighborhood Christian Legal Clinic is proud to partner with an organization called Helping Veterans and Families (HVAF). HVAF refers veterans directly to the Clinic for help with a variety of legal needs. 

While INHP works to keep families safely and affordably housed, ultimately their efforts are about more than just putting a roof over someone’s head. “Being a homeowner is a lifelong dream for so many of the families that come to INHP,” says Rob. “So often, they are first-generation homeowners, meaning nobody else in their family has been able to achieve that before. And it represents a place to call their own.”

I remember the look on his face. It was a mixture of shame, sadness, and regret. His eyes twitched as he told me his story. He looked up and down, right and left. But he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

Many people know the story of how Neighborhood Christian Legal Clinic came to be born, how it sprang from the words of a pastor who cast a bold vision from the pulpit of the big stone church at 34th and Central. What might be less known is how the roots of the Clinic reach deeper into time, to the 1960s, when an all-white congregation refused to submit to white flight. Or even further into the past, to the 1920s, when a downtown church saw an emerging neighborhood as an opportunity for outreach. As such, Tabernacle Presbyterian Church’s seemingly out-of-the-blue decision to start a legal clinic decades later was not so out-of-the-blue at all, but rather, wonderfully consistent with its history.

In 2008, College Park Church forged a partnership with Neighborhood Christian Legal Clinic to help improve and strengthen the Brookside neighborhood on the near east side. We have enjoyed the grace they bring to our community through their efforts towards justice. And we support one another in offering love and care to our neighbors in need.

Amy describes their Advocacy Program as the backbone of their work. “We assist individuals who believe they may have been a victim of housing discrimination to determine if there is in fact evidence of a violation of law or not,” she says. “If we find evidence of an unlawful practice, we then become an advocate for that victim and assist them in getting justice.”

Sherry explains the mission of Raphael: “Our mission is to serve everyone with the healing ministry of Jesus Christ, regardless of their race, ethnicity, language, ability to pay. We care for anyone.” And because Indiana has one of the highest rates of infant mortality in the country, they are particularly passionate about providing care and support to new mothers and infants. “We really focus on the things we can do to keep mom and baby safe through that first year,” she says. “If we can get them through that first year, our chances of setting them up for a healthier and safer life are much higher.”

After suffering from a nearly fatal bout of malaria while he was in India many years ago, Raio began to understand the connection between compassion and justice. “I wanted to build a place that incorporated those values into everything we did,” he says. Over the course of his career, he often saw an imbalance of justice that disproportionately affected survivors in a negative way—and he wanted CVHR to fight against that.

Since 2013, the Legal Clinic has partnered with Hoosier Veterans Assistance Foundation (HVAF) to meet the legal needs of homeless veterans in Indiana. Celebrating their 25th anniversary this year, HVAF has come a long way from their first housing project when they established a residence for five homeless veterans. In 2017 alone, they served more than 1300. Bryan Dysert, Director of Programs and Services at HVAF, says, “[We have the] capacity to house 158 veterans on any given night. And while they’re in that program, they’re receiving case management services, employment services, legal services—really anything that they need to get back to self-sufficiency.”

“What’s great about being a church is we’re not Human Services and we don’t want to be Human Services,” says David. “A guy coming out of prison needs resources, but he doesn’t need to be resourced. He needs relationships.” For Brookside CDC, this means regular meetings where staff and those seeking assistance can be real with one another. Their men also go through an education series. “We’re checking off boxes to make sure they don’t have a reason to go back to their drugs or crime or old lifestyles, but they are walking in newness with a Bridge Coach that will support them all the way through the process,” David says.

Outreach wants to change the lives of the youth that walk through its doors. And it wants to do so in a manner that reminds them not that they are homeless, but that they are valued and loved. “I think that the facility has created a platform and an environment in which a young person that finds themselves homeless can be seen,” says Eric.

Those who came through the simulation started by receiving a specific refugee identity and backstory. They then made their way through various stations that simulated a refugee’s arrival and settlement in a camp. One station focused on food, showing the stark contrast between the amount consumed by the average American versus the typical weekly allotment for refugees, which consisted of a handful of rice and lentils, seven small carrots, a few root vegetables, and some sugar snap peas.