The Shelter Director Who Made Me Rethink Everything

The Question That Stopped Me

"Why do you need to know about their childhood abuse to give them a bed for tonight?"

Janet ran a 60-bed emergency shelter and had been doing intake for 20 years. She wasn't being difficult. She was genuinely asking.

I was there to help them implement a comprehensive assessment tool. By the book, we were supposed to collect trauma history, mental health status, substance use patterns—the full picture. Janet was pushing back.

Her Point

Someone fleeing violence at 11 PM needs safety, not a two-hour intake process. The information we "need" to collect often serves our administrative requirements more than the person standing in front of us.

"You can always get more information later," Janet said. "But you only get one chance to make someone feel welcome."

The Compromise

We redesigned the intake into two parts. Stage one happens that first night: what do you need right now, and what do we absolutely need to know to keep you safe? Stage two happens the next day, or the day after, once someone has slept and eaten and feels somewhat human again.

Turns out, people share more in stage two anyway. A rested person who feels cared for is more willing to open up than an exhausted person being interrogated at midnight.

What I Think Now

Trauma-informed data collection isn't about avoiding hard questions. It's about timing them appropriately and explaining why they matter. Every question we ask should have a purpose we can articulate—and if we can't, maybe we shouldn't be asking it.