Help Keep Victor Off the Streets
Beschermde donatie
My name is Victor Manuel Markhoff. I’m a 20 year old transgender man. As a result of my transition, I have been homeless since I was 18. On May 15, 2019, I am losing my dorm housing and I will be completely homeless. I need your help to keep me off the streets and finally achieve housing stability.
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The first time I had to worry about having a roof over my head was in May of 2017. I’d just come out as a trans man, and to put a long story short, it did not go well. One night I scribbled frantically into my journal, “I don’t know what to do. How will I eat? Where will I sleep?”
It’s exactly two years later and I still don’t have the answer to that.
After a summer of hell, finding myself on couches and at one point a Walmart parking lot, in an effort to protect myself from a dangerous situation, I escaped back to New York to start my sophomore year at NYU. In comparison, my life became better. I obtained a dependency override and more scholarship from NYU, and I now had the freedom to transition safely.
The things that kept me off the street, they didn’t just happen. I worked tirelessly to secure my future at NYU. I spent many nights nauseous at the thought of ending up on the street.
I was homeless. But I was quasi-homeless. I was in a dorm, not the streets; if I ignored the rest of my life I could almost pretend everything was normal.
The normalcy started to wear off when, in the spring semester of 2018, I could barely attend class because I couldn’t afford to eat. Trudging my way to campus, much less actually paying attention to the material, felt like climbing Everest without an oxygen tank. I wasn’t just hungry. I was starving.
Friends of my demons tagged along. My severe PTSD, left mostly untreated because of NYU’s lacking mental health resources, reared its ugly head. My disabilities, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, POTS, among others, flared as I couldn’t afford to take care of them. I needed a break, but if I took a leave of absence, I would be completely homeless. I relied on NYU for my housing.
Once a straight A student, I spiralled, along with my grades. I didn’t meet Satisfactory Academic Progress (SAP). SAP is necessary to retain your scholarships.
Still, I pushed through with brute force. I worked as a summer assistant at a dorm to have a roof over my head and a meal plan. I continued to hit up every possible resource I knew of. I applied for academic probation so that I could attend the fall semester.
My issues didn’t end there. My PTSD and the stress that one mistake would land me on the street gnawed at me endlessly. And I cracked. In October 2018, I had an attempt and ended up hospitalized for a week. I stayed alive for top surgery.
As soon as I left the hospital, I sought further mental health and academic help. Instead, NYU immediately referred me to drop out. As I explained that I relied on NYU for housing, the response was largely “tough luck.” I tried to withdraw only from the classes I knew I was failing so that technically I wouldn’t be on medical leave. I hit up email inboxes. No one responded. I made the painful decision to fail instead of taking leave so at least I’d have housing over break for my top surgery recovery.
I returned the next semester with permission to go part time. This way, I could stay in housing and I’d have the time to take care of myself and seek a permanent roof over my head.
I fought for weeks for my medical appeal paperwork from an NYU health center psychiatrist. After promising me the paperwork, last minute, the psychiatrist told me I was noncompliant and refused to give me it. Why did she say I was noncompliant? Because I missed an appointment due to a pain flare up from my EDS, something I had previously warned her happens on occasion.
I sought further help. Instead of helping me, an administrator chose to place me on leave without consulting me, with the full knowledge that this would result in my homelessness.
For months I’ve fought with NYU to see if any compromise is possible. I’ve well overstayed my time in my dorm, simply because I have no other options. But I’ve lost. I need to leave the dorms by May 15. There’s no weaselling my way out of this one. I’ve done all I can do. It’s happening.
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I don’t know how else to put it. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Figuring out my housing has become a full time job, and I’ve been working overtime. My mental health is wrecked from keeping my head above water. I’m pushing my disabled body beyond its limits just to survive. I have fought tooth and nail, and it’s taken everything from me. I’ve exhausted all of my options.
All I want is stability. I want a normal life. I need a room. I need a place to live.
I don’t have credit. I don’t make 40 times the rent. I don’t have a cosigner. The goal is to be able to rent a room, put down security and first month's rent, buy furniture, and have the next 3-4 months covered while I put my life back together again.
I want to know how I will eat. I want to know where I will sleep. Any help that you can give for me to achieve that goal means the world to me.
Thank you,
Victor
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The first time I had to worry about having a roof over my head was in May of 2017. I’d just come out as a trans man, and to put a long story short, it did not go well. One night I scribbled frantically into my journal, “I don’t know what to do. How will I eat? Where will I sleep?”
It’s exactly two years later and I still don’t have the answer to that.
After a summer of hell, finding myself on couches and at one point a Walmart parking lot, in an effort to protect myself from a dangerous situation, I escaped back to New York to start my sophomore year at NYU. In comparison, my life became better. I obtained a dependency override and more scholarship from NYU, and I now had the freedom to transition safely.
The things that kept me off the street, they didn’t just happen. I worked tirelessly to secure my future at NYU. I spent many nights nauseous at the thought of ending up on the street.
I was homeless. But I was quasi-homeless. I was in a dorm, not the streets; if I ignored the rest of my life I could almost pretend everything was normal.
The normalcy started to wear off when, in the spring semester of 2018, I could barely attend class because I couldn’t afford to eat. Trudging my way to campus, much less actually paying attention to the material, felt like climbing Everest without an oxygen tank. I wasn’t just hungry. I was starving.
Friends of my demons tagged along. My severe PTSD, left mostly untreated because of NYU’s lacking mental health resources, reared its ugly head. My disabilities, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, POTS, among others, flared as I couldn’t afford to take care of them. I needed a break, but if I took a leave of absence, I would be completely homeless. I relied on NYU for my housing.
Once a straight A student, I spiralled, along with my grades. I didn’t meet Satisfactory Academic Progress (SAP). SAP is necessary to retain your scholarships.
Still, I pushed through with brute force. I worked as a summer assistant at a dorm to have a roof over my head and a meal plan. I continued to hit up every possible resource I knew of. I applied for academic probation so that I could attend the fall semester.
My issues didn’t end there. My PTSD and the stress that one mistake would land me on the street gnawed at me endlessly. And I cracked. In October 2018, I had an attempt and ended up hospitalized for a week. I stayed alive for top surgery.
As soon as I left the hospital, I sought further mental health and academic help. Instead, NYU immediately referred me to drop out. As I explained that I relied on NYU for housing, the response was largely “tough luck.” I tried to withdraw only from the classes I knew I was failing so that technically I wouldn’t be on medical leave. I hit up email inboxes. No one responded. I made the painful decision to fail instead of taking leave so at least I’d have housing over break for my top surgery recovery.
I returned the next semester with permission to go part time. This way, I could stay in housing and I’d have the time to take care of myself and seek a permanent roof over my head.
I fought for weeks for my medical appeal paperwork from an NYU health center psychiatrist. After promising me the paperwork, last minute, the psychiatrist told me I was noncompliant and refused to give me it. Why did she say I was noncompliant? Because I missed an appointment due to a pain flare up from my EDS, something I had previously warned her happens on occasion.
I sought further help. Instead of helping me, an administrator chose to place me on leave without consulting me, with the full knowledge that this would result in my homelessness.
For months I’ve fought with NYU to see if any compromise is possible. I’ve well overstayed my time in my dorm, simply because I have no other options. But I’ve lost. I need to leave the dorms by May 15. There’s no weaselling my way out of this one. I’ve done all I can do. It’s happening.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don’t know how else to put it. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Figuring out my housing has become a full time job, and I’ve been working overtime. My mental health is wrecked from keeping my head above water. I’m pushing my disabled body beyond its limits just to survive. I have fought tooth and nail, and it’s taken everything from me. I’ve exhausted all of my options.
All I want is stability. I want a normal life. I need a room. I need a place to live.
I don’t have credit. I don’t make 40 times the rent. I don’t have a cosigner. The goal is to be able to rent a room, put down security and first month's rent, buy furniture, and have the next 3-4 months covered while I put my life back together again.
I want to know how I will eat. I want to know where I will sleep. Any help that you can give for me to achieve that goal means the world to me.
Thank you,
Victor
Organisator
Victor Markhoff
Organisator
New York, NY