The price they pay

04.06.2020 - Feature Writing & In-depth Reporting (Jour 3005)

            It’s 9:30 a.m. in Cincinnati’s East Price Hill neighborhood. By the time Andrea Holtman pulls into the rocky driveway of 962 Mansion Ave, a few women have gathered on the house’s small porch. A sign to the left of the front door reads, “Free laundry, free showers, free food, and free clothes.” These basic necessities that most of us have easy access to every day are exactly why these women are here. Holtman hops out of her car and greets the ladies with a gigantic smile; she knows every one of them by name. Unlocking the door to the house, Holtman motions for the ladies to come inside — the beginning of another day at Weightless Anchor.

Started by BLOC Ministries in 2012, Weightless Anchor is a “hospitality home” on Cincinnati’s westside serving as a haven for homeless and low-income women; Although there’s no housing, the organization allows its guests to use the space during the day to do laundry, get a meal, shower, change into clean clothes, etc.

"When I first started, we averaged about 15 women a day; by this fall and winter we were averaging anywhere from 25 to 38 a day,” says Holtman, Weightless Anchor’s current director. “The most we've had in one day was 39 women in the house."

The first Weightless Anchor house was opened in Lower Price Hill after BLOC noticed a devastating problem of prostitution, drug abuse, and homelessness among the community’s women. In 2015, BLOC acquired a second house in East Price Hill when the drugs and trafficking began moving up the hill.

"In Lower Price Hill, we are in the process of changing what our programming looks like,” Holtman says. “Instead of just offering things like food and showers, we're trying to move into more programming to help women empower themselves, to really help the community." But in their newer, East Price Hill home, Weightless Anchor is still focusing on helping women meet their basic needs.

The house itself is nothing special: a fixer-upper with a small living-dining combo, usually filled with women hanging out, talking, or watching TV. The kitchen is compact and attached to a laundry room where women can wash their own clothes. There are two bedrooms upstairs, one for storing donations and the other filled with clean clothes, from which the women can choose up to five items a day. There’s only one bathroom in the house, and a single shower the women take turns using. But the humble space is filled with the essence of a greater purpose.

"They opened Weightless Anchor to try and build relationships with women in the community, try to get them off the streets and just be a non-judgmental safe space to offer love,” says Holtman. Any woman in need of help is welcome to the resources offered at Weightless Anchor, but the program ultimately aims to help steer these women toward long-term recovery and future success, according to the director.

Redeemed Home, another BLOC program, is housing for women who are struggling with addiction but can stay sober for at least 30 days. "We currently have people at Redeemed that came directly from Weightless Anchor,” Holtman says. Once a woman at Weightless Anchor agrees to treatment, she is sent to detox centers or different facilities to get that 30 days under their belt and can then find housing at Redeemed Home.

The point of Weightless Anchor is to help the women, not get them in trouble. But if someone who has made relationships at Weightless Anchor is arrested, BLOC and Weightless Anchor are there to help. “We have women that go in [to the police station] and talk to them about what they want and offer to help them change their life,” Holtman says.

On March 22nd, Ohio Governor Mike DeWine and Ohio Department of Health Director Amy Acton announced a stay-at-home order in wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. Admits the crisis, Holtman and a few volunteers still need to take care of the women who depend on them.

"We closed our house, according to Governor DeWine's orders; we are doing the whole social distancing thing,” Holtman says. "But we still need to make sure the women are fed and their basic needs are met.” Holtman, along with a few other volunteers, has begun serving food from the house’s porch and handing out hygiene kits with necessities.

“We still need donations,” Holtman says. “Right now, we really need things like granola bars and things they can take along with them. We also need toiletries for hygiene kits and basics like clean underwear.” With the whole world at a standstill, Holtman and her volunteers are still showing up to help.

When Holtman was offered the job as the director of Weightless Anchor in 2019, she was reluctant to move her entire family 45 minutes across the city. The L of BLOC stands for “Living where we serve,” so it was important that Holtman and her family live in Price Hill. “I was just a suburban mom from Liberty Township,” Holtman says. “Price Hill was very different from my white-middle-class suburbia bubble.” So, Holtman did what she usually does when she has a hard decision to make: she prayed on it.

"I was going to be the big smart-ass that went to God and said, 'so hey, God, if you really want me to uproot my whole entire life then I'm going to need you to do something super miraculous and give me something like a block of wood' and that’s what I prayed, kind of like 'haha'," Holtman says, but God had the last laugh. "That Saturday at church the subject was legacy, and so they had chopped down some trees at the Crossroads campground, and – I kid you not – gave everyone a chunk of wood," Holtman says she burst into tears in the church; she knew that this job is what she was supposed to be doing.

After almost a year at Weightless Anchor, Holtman has recently taken charge of a new BLOC ministries initiative called “I Am Not 4 Sale”; a community awareness campaign to educate Cincinnatians about the “epidemic” of prostitution and sex trafficking in our city, according to the organization’s website. This campaign goes hand in hand with Weightless Anchor’s mission and helps fight the stigma surrounding women trapped in addiction, prostitution, sex trafficking, and homelessness. “Abuse is not a choice, it’s a cycle,” Holtman says. “I hear stories through my work, every day, that proves this.”

AMBER’S* STORY is one of those Holtman shares often. Before Amber was even born, her mother was addicted to heroin and found herself in and out of homeless shelters and rehabs. When Amber was only seven years old, her mother died of an accidental overdose, and Amber was taken in by her aunt and uncle. What seemed like a fresh start quickly turned dark as Amber’s uncle began sexually abusing her shortly after she moved in. No one seemed to notice, or care and the abuse went on for six years. Amber felt helpless; she had no one to turn to and the only family she had left was the source of her abuse. So, Amber decided to run away and at the age of thirteen, she was living alone on the streets of Cincinnati.

Although Amber had escaped one form of abuse, the trauma she endured made her vulnerable to other kinds, Holtman says. On the streets, the young girl was scared and unwilling to trust anyone who tried to help her – she felt unworthy of the kindness and love people tried to give.

One day, Amber met Jasper*. He was older, and charming, and did not care that Amber was “damaged”. Jasper told Amber she was beautiful, worthy, and loved, and slowly she started to believe him; she started to trust him when she had not trusted anyone in years. According to Holtman, Amber’s trust in Jasper was so strong that when he told her to try heroin, the drug that killed her mother, she listened. She believed him when he said they would not get addicted because she believed Jasper knew what was best for her.

When Amber and Jasper inevitably do get addicted to Heroin, Holtman says they are in so deep they would do anything to fund their addiction; Jasper convinces Amber that if she loved him, she would sell her body for money. According to Holtman, Amber’s story is not uncommon. “I could change the ages or change the uncle to a brother and that’s the story of 90% of the women that come [to weightless anchor].”

Today, Amber is in her forties and still struggling with the cycle of addiction and prostitution. Holtman says she frequents the Weightless Anchor house but is still hesitant to take help. “As long as the need is there, and there is a chance we can help these women on a different path, Weightless Anchor will be there.”

*Names have been changed.