Jofre and Alkire with Officers D. Cole and Terrence Rountree Jr. “When are they going to expand so you guys can work with kids?” asked Cole. Sarah Alkire and Wanda Jofre drove by St. Bernard’s Cemetery in the Hill when they noticed a man nodding off on the sidewalk. They turned back, pulle d up, and rolled the window down. “Are you doing OK?” asked Alkire. The two COMPASS outreach workers weren’t responding to an emergency 911 call related to addiction, homelessness, or mental health — but they did see someone who might need help. So, as they often do on the job, they stopped to check in — and left the door open for building a relationship. Jofre and Alkire were the two outreach workers on call Wednesday afternoon with Elm City COMPASS (Compassionate Allies Serving our Streets). They work as part of a team of social workers and peer counselors that responds to 911 calls involving adults struggling with mental health, substance use, and homelessness. In between those crisis calls, the teams conduct proactive outreach, checking in on people like the man who seemed to be sleeping by the cemetery fence. COMPASS is one of two programs run by the nonprofit Continuum of Care currently funded at least in part by the American Rescue Plan Act (ARPA) — federal pandemic relief funding that must be spent by the city by the end of 2026. The non-congregate shelter at 270 Foxon Blvd. is another program currently funded by this soon-to-expire set of funds. While Mayor Justin Elicker has committed to finding the funds for both programs to continue at their current capacities, it’s uncertain exactly how. The city still needs more than $1.4 million in outside funding in order to keep both COMPASS and the Foxon Boulevard shelter operating. “These programs are both very important to the city, and we’re working to find the funding. We’re cautiously optimistic about that,” said Elicker. “We’ll find a way to make sure these programs continue,” he said. “Meeting A Person Where They Are” Jofre, Continuum of Care’s clinical director of acute and emergency response services, and Alkire, COMPASS’ lead clinician, are both social workers who grew up in the New Haven area. Through COMPASS, they regularly work with people living on the streets, or in the depths of addiction, or facing acute psychological distress — or often, some combination of the three. They’re also often called upon to assist survivors of domestic violence, people losing their memory with age, tenants experiencing an eviction, and people facing intervention in a hoarding problem, among other scenarios. They don’t push sobriety on people who aren’t seeking to get sober. They also can’t personally force someone to get psychiatric care, although they can call in help from a crisis intervention team with that power if they think someone might hurt themselves or others. And when someone tells COMPASS they don’t need help, that they want to be left alone, the team walks away. “Our biggest thing is meeting a person where they are,” said Alkire. The goal is to be a non-judgmental presence. “I’ll always be with a gentle voice: ‘Are you okay? I wanted to check on you,’” she said. “And if I were to see them again at a call or something like that, then they’re more in tune, because I was gentle.” “We keep showing up,” Alkire added. “We keep meeting them where they’re at. We’ve had clients say to us, ‘You guys didn’t force anything on me. You let me be me, and let me have choice, and let me have options, and that’s why I feel comfortable here.’” Alkire can think of plenty of people who have refused help at first, but who after numerous interactions — “it could be seven or 70 times” — became ready for more support. As they drove by one intersection along Ella T. Grasso Boulevard on Wednesday, a familiar face approached Alkire and Jofre’s car. The man had been approaching cars to ask for money. Alkire rolled down her window. “Do you want some snacks?” she asked. The man immediately started walking in the other direction. Alkire rolled her window back up. “He’s usually a little more agitated,” she said — occasionally so much so that COMPASS isn’t equipped to approach him while prioritizing everyone’s safety. The man hasn’t wanted any support from COMPASS in the past, said Alkire. “We’ve talked very often.” There’s another person, Alkire recalled, who had frequent interactions with police resulting in a call to COMPASS. “She would see COMPASS coming, and she would run the other way,” Alkire recalled. After “seven or eight” times when that happened, Alkire recalled the woman saying, “All right. You keep showing up. What do you got?” Eventually, she agreed to stay overnight at Continuum of Care’s emergency short-term shelter program at 310 Winthrop Ave., known as the REST Center (for Rapid Evaluation, Stabilization, and Treatment). From there, COMPASS and Continuum connected her to substance-use treatment. “She’ll still call us to check in and say, ‘Hey, I’m doing okay,’ or ‘Hey, I’m struggling today. Can I come?’” Alkire said. Sometimes, that’s what success looks like at COMPASS: long-term support, trust, and healing. Sometimes, though, success is something more urgent and simple: a pair of gloves provided in the cold, a life-saving dose of naloxone, an indoor place to sleep for just one night, or even just a verbal check-in signaling that someone cares. Those fleeting interactions can help someone make it to the next day. The harm-reduction philosophy underpinning COMPASS holds that those efforts to try and help someone survive and improve their quality-of-life are worthwhile — even if the person in question doesn’t check into a rehab facility or a psychiatric institution right then and there. In Search Of $1.4M+ For COMPASS, Shelter The team checks in with Sgt. Sanders (center). Back in 2022, COMPASS kicked off with a total of $3,513,842 from both local and federal funding: a $2 million federal grant, $625,000 annually from the city’s general fund budget, and the remainder from ARPA. Over time, COMPASS has ramped up operations to cover 19 hours a day, seven days a week, with three shifts between 8 a.m. and 3 a.m. each day. In March 2026, according to a report published to COMPASS’ website, COMPASS was called by fire or police department members to aid with an emergency 47 times over the course of the month. 911 operators directly dispatched the team to three incidents. And COMPASS made connections with 121 other people through proactive outreach. According to the report, 64 percent of all of those March interactions involved a referral to an outside resource for a basic need. Now, COMPASS needs $1.2 million from the city in order to continue operating at its current capacity for the next fiscal year, according to Elicker. In practice, that would mean an additional $575,000 on top of the city’s pre-existing annual general fund contribution. Currently, Elicker’s budget proposal includes a general increase of $645,000 for Continuum of Care programs. That funding could be used for COMPASS, or it could be used for the non-congregate shelter at 270 Foxon Blvd., which has also been funded by ARPA — and which will require $1.5 million to continue operating. Elicker’s proposed $733.3 million general fund budget for the fiscal year that starts July 1 does not include full funding for both COMPASS and the Foxon Boulevard shelter. The city still needs $1.43 million to keep both programs going. That funding has not yet been secured. Elicker is currently advocating for the state to provide the remaining $1.43 million needed for both programs, while also looking into opioid settlement funds as a possible source of funding. New Haven State Rep. Patricia Dillon recalled a “very productive” and “thorough” meeting with the Elicker administration about “a number of asks the city has,” including funding for school maintenance. Asked about the likelihood that the state will assist in funding the Continuum programs, Dillon said, “I’m optimistic, but it’s not gonna be easy. Nothing is.” New Haven State Rep. Steve Winter, who also heads the city’s Office of Climate and Sustainability, said that he isn’t certain about “the likelihood that either of these programs get funded on the state level.” He pointed to an increase in funding for the state’s Department of Housing proposed by both Gov. Ned Lamont and the state legislature’s Appropriations Committee, some of which he said is likely to make its way to New Haven, as one source of optimism. “It’s a challenge, given all the constraints that the state has — both the constitutional spending cap and the fiscal guardrails. It’s difficult in any given year to try and meet every request,” Winter said, adding,“I’ve seen and heard that there’s a lot of value for both of these programs.” “I think we have a strong case to make,” said Dillon. She noted that “the city takes in a lot of vulnerable populations,” including unhoused people who come from both within the city and from surrounding towns that do not offer as many social services. “New Haven has really stepped up on this. I don’t think the taxpayers of New Haven should be punished for being generous,” Dillon said. Born From Black Lives Matter Elicker first proposed COMPASS as a police diversion program in the wake of the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests against police brutality and racism. The program launched in 2022 based out of Continuum of Care, with administrative support from Yale University. Sun Queen, one of the founders of Black Lives Matter New Haven and an organizer with the Unhoused Activists Community Team (U-ACT), sits on COMPASS’ Community Advisory Board. She said she hopes to see the program evolve to work more independently from the police department. Right now, there’s no number that can directly reach COMPASS. “You have to go through 911 for triage.” Still, Queen said, the program is an important step toward de-escalating encounters with people who are experiencing a mental health crisis. She pointed to Everard Walker and Steven Jones, two Black men whom Hartford police officers recently shot dead while they were brandishing knives; the families of both men had requested mental health support prior to the shootings. “It shouldn’t end in death,” Queen said. “It shouldn’t end in arrest.” Meanwhile, Elicker said his administration is “evolving” its approach to the kinds of situations that COMPASS responds to. “We work very hard to be compassionate and supportive of people who are struggling. At the same time, we’re trying to ensure there’s some accountability as well,” he said. Asked if “accountability” means arresting people, Elicker said that for situations like open drug use, public defecation, encampments that accumulate trash, or “someone having a loud breakdown on school property,” the city’s approach is to “directly engage with folks that have been repeatedly problematic in the attempt to make sure they get resources.” Then, “after multiple times of offering, if they still engage in this type of behavior, potentially arresting them.” Meanwhile, appreciation for COMPASS has grown within the police department. “It’s 100 percent great,” said Sgt. Jasmine Sanders, the district manager for the Hill neighborhood who also coordinates mental health response efforts within the police department. “Having COMPASS has been a game changer,” Sanders said, noting that she has the team on speed-dial. “We love COMPASS,” echoed patrol Officer D. Cole. He turned on Wednesday to Jofre, the COMPASS outreach worker. “When are they going to expand so you guys can work with kids? ‘Cause this is a great resource” he said. A Place To REST If COMPASS serves as a third option for dispatch alongside police and fire emergency responders, Continuum’s REST Center — COMPASS’ home base — functions as an alternative emergency room. The center operates out of the house on 310 Winthrop Ave. Inside are ten loungers for people who need a place to stay for up to 24 hours: people who may be in crisis and who do not meet the threshold of needing emergency medical services. There are two additional beds for people who need to stay longer. The center is designed to act as a “bridge to other resources,” said Marquez. Guests can get connected to substance use and mental health treatment. They can register for shelter and housing resources through the region’s Coordinated Access Network. “Pretty much, we have an open-door policy,” said Program Manager Marco Marquez. The only requirement, he said, is the person’s consent. A majority of the people who use services at REST are unhoused, Marquez said, but sometimes, people will ask for help with family members in crisis. Some people come as walk-ins. Others are brought to the center by COMPASS team members. Once, according to Continuum of Care Vice President John Labieniec, someone came to the REST Center after missing their flight at Tweed Airport. They didn’t live in New Haven and they experienced a breakdown in the airport. An officer at the airport called COMPASS. “We were able to bring them back here, kind of stabilize their crisis,” said Labieniec. After recovering at the REST Center, the person was able to return to the airport and board the next flight home. Those who do want housing — or even a shelter bed — often face agonizing wait times. It’s common for an able-bodied adult to wait six months for a shelter bed to open up, said Alkine. The wait times are a symptom of a housing shortage — especially a dearth of sufficiently affordable housing and supportive housing options. COMPASS team members can help someone get connected with the 211 waitlist. But they don’t have the power to make extra room in a shelter, let alone conjure enough homes to solve the housing crisis. “People die on the waiting list,” said Sun Queen, the COMPASS Advisory Board member. “Where do people go in the meantime and between time?” “I want to be able to offer them the world,” said Alkine. “I want to be able to offer them housing.” For now, she can offer water bottles, toothbrushes, hand warmers, a ride to the REST Center, a calm voice, and a moment to listen, among other provisions. Back By St. Bernard’s On Wednesday, Jofre and Alkire were on their way to an area where they frequently conduct outreach: the stretch of Congress Avenue by the APT Foundation methadone clinic and John C. Daniels School. The pair spotted the man nodding off by the cemetery border on their way. “Should we turn around?” Alkire asked Jofre. They decided to turn at the next intersection and drive back. By the time they returned to St. Bernard’s, the man was standing, holding onto a bike. “I’m OK,” he told Alkire and Jofre through the car window. He explained that he was on a smoke break and that he didn’t know where his friend had gone. “I go to a program,” he said, providing the address of 555 Columbus Ave. — a nearby church, Casa De Oración Y Adoración, that also houses the harm reduction organization SWAN (Sex Workers and Allies Network). Jofre noticed that the man’s speech slurred, but she didn’t question him. “Do you want a snack? Water?” asked Alkire. The man accepted a bottle of water. “I live out here,” he said. Alkire gave him her business card, too — for “if you ever need help” finding more resources, such as “getting into a program other than 555.” The man accepted the card. Before the team drove away, he told them, “Thank you for stopping.” The post Budget Spotlight: As Non-Cop Crew Cruises Streets, City Looks For COMPASS Funds appeared first on New Haven Independent. ...read more read less