Standing sick at a bus stop, Rebekkah Silavwe remembers watching police come calling to her mother’s home nearby. Silavwe knew they were there for her.
It was just one of many emotional moments in a complicated relationship between mother and daughter.
This fight though, left her without a home and at the end of her resources.
She’d slept on many couches the previous two years of the roller-coaster parental relationship and felt those friendships were depleted.
Dating her now-husband for just a month at the time, he provided a place to stay at times over the next month until a former counsellor connected her with the then-fledgling Threshold Housing Society.
In late 2017 Silavwe moved into Threshold House in Oak Bay.
A decade later, the building is now owned by its namesake society, purchased from the former landlord, neighbouring Oak Bay United Church with a continued solid relationship.
The purchase was only possible thanks to a $1,689,000 donation by Clint and Carole Forster, Tessier said.
It’s a number he knows off the top of his head, on top of the other $1.6 million donated to pay off a mortgage in James Bay.
When society executive director Colin Tessier started in 2018, Threshold had one asset and had been hemorrhaging cash. The non-profit was operating homes through leases in spaces across the region. Even with limited resources and energy, the group focused on ownership.
“It’s not easy. It’s not cheap. You’ve gotta get some breaks,” he said.
Threshold now has 56 housing units, including 34 apartments across the CRD, on six properties, four of them owned.
It builds on the work toward filling a “massive gap” in youth housing compared to adult housing, Tessier said.
“Anything we can do to anchor housing options for future generations.”
He’s also watched the organization grow from a dozen staff to more than 90, and is heartened to hear Silavwe say the people are the heart of the organization.
“We’ve had this huge growth,” he said. “You can lose that and we can’t allow that.”
Supporting young people in complex situations is not easy, and there are hard fights, but they’re worth it, Tessier said. The connection between child welfare isn’t just documented “it’s a big red flashing light” and society needs to step up to and provide more resources, he said.
“We hire for values. We work very hard to make sure people fit the culture,” he said, noting they look for staff with a trauma-informed perspective who are caring, compassionate and have empathy – people with their hearts in the right place.
Threshold’s vision is a community where all youth thrive and the mission is to prevent adult homelessness by providing safe housing, support services and community to at-risk youth.
Silavwe is a testament to that work. She fully believes the bus stop incident at 19 set her on a better course with Threshold. Coming into the program in late 2017, Silavwe acknowledges her story is five years old, as she left by 2020, but she hopes it resonates with others, potentially offering hope and inspiration.
It’s important to her that people understand homelessness looks different than society often defines – it includes couch surfing, feeling a constant threat of losing housing, shelters, hotels or any time you can’t guarantee a roof over your head.
“It’s not just people living on the streets,” she said.
Silavwe spent her youth alongside a mom fleeing abuse more than once, and had some positive experiences in transition houses. What they didn’t offer was a personal space to be happy or sad, offering privacy to cherish incredible moments and endure awful ones.
“Threshold allows you that space,” she said. “It’s a closed door that belongs to you.”
The closed door wasn’t an obstacle knowing staff on the other side would check in with open-ended questions or offers of help. “We want what’s best for you, as long as you’re safe.”
It was December, her birthday month, when Silavwe found herself safely housed in Oak Bay, in a room with a door and resources on the other side of that threshold.
“It was going to be my first Christmas with nobody,” she said. She’d gone “no contact” with her family and had limited people in her life – working, working and working some more, trying to get herself together.
Then one day a pile of backpacks appeared under the Christmas tree. One was for her, filled with personalized gifts she recalls to this day – two journals, two geodes and winter gear among them.
“It was really special. It was something I didn’t know was going to happen,” Silavwe said. That was her introduction to Threshold Housing, an organization of “beautiful layers” with people at the centre.
“The heart of the organization has always been the same, it prioritizes youth going through crises,” she said.
Some policies and procedures have changed since her time. For example, there was once a timeline for youth housed by Threshold, now people move on when they feel ready and capable.
Now the organization also has in-house counsellors who work out of the main office on Fort Street, as well as an Indigenous wellness team of Indigenous case managers and a knowledge keeper – who works with the Indigenous youth in the program – connecting them to culture, community and the Indigenous ways of being.
During her time as a client, Silavwe also lived for a while in Forrest House where she was placed with a roommate; neither knew each other, and they met with trepidation.
“It’s a nice introduction to what it’s like to live with someone,” Silavwe said, describing the roomie as someone with a stunning smile and soft, warm and beautiful presence. “Her and I were really well matched. … We built a home together in that space.”
A crafty person, the roommate created banners out of dried oranges and leaves, they had Pancake the hamster as a pet, forged a solid friendship and wound up facing childhood trauma tougher. For example, the roommate had a coping technique that included sweeping, lots of sweeping – something Silavwe’s mother did to convey anger.
“Her and I were able to forge a really solid foundation,” Silavwe said.
Staff setting them up to live together, where both were able to grow and learn, is another indicator of how staff are the heart and soul – integral to the workings and even her growth since leaving the organization as a client.
“When you’re in crises you’re different. You’re not who you are,” she said, noting the staff made her fell seen, valued, heard, even when in crisis.
“Something like this does change your life,” she added, seated in the Oak Bay living room where a Christmas tree once stood well beyond the winter holiday, with ornaments swapped in and out as celebrations came and went.
“It felt like I had no foundation and Threshold gave me a foundation again.”
