The 10 Month Period

A year ago, I had to leave my home. The elevators to the apartment building I live in were out! Ida, the storm of 2021, damaged them. Although, one of the elevators was down prior to the storm; the storm damaged them both even further.

I can honestly say I have always been one to voice the challenges that individuals with physical disability present when trying to have an active life. As a person with a physical disability, I’ve experienced a lot of unbelievable things during this lifetime, however, this was a nightmare I never thought I’d experience. I am a special education teacher, who works and lives in the Bronx. I live on the 4th floor of my apartment building, which means the

elevators are very important in helping me get around. Imagine being trapped in your own home, where if there was an emergency, like having to go the hospital because of your restricted lung disease, or possibly losing your job because you can’t even go to it, all because the elevators weren’t working. You would also say- YES IT WAS A NIGHTMARE!

Right from the start, I knew what I had to do. Use the tools I was taught by my mother growing up, advocate! So, I started to advocate for myself. I kept trying to keep things cordial between the management of the building (Webster’s Place Associates) and I, but it seemed that the more I kept advocating for my right as a disabled tenant requiring, as promised on my lease, functioning elevators, the more they lashed back! So, I had to utilize other resources.

I contacted BX News 12, and they did a story on my situation, which caused more friction between the management and I, but I was stuck in the confines of my own home!… Right?! … Soon after, a fellow peer of my community saw my story on the news and offered to help. Mr. Dustin Jones, who works for an organization called CIDNY. CIDNY provides varies resources for those with disabilities, such as information on housing and employment. He was able to help me get out of my apartment by the help of my local fire department (FDNY Engine 47, ladder 56, division 7) and have the landlord of my building accommodate my

situation by paying for a hotel for me to stay in, until the elevators were fixed. As soon as I arrived at the hotel, Wyngate by Wyndham, I felt in my heart that I was in for a fight for I knew that I was going to be there for a while. What I didn’t expect, was that I was going to be there for almost a year!

Imagine, 10 months!

10 months living outside of my home, that I still paid for every month. Living in a small one bed hotel room, no microwave to warm up food, no stove to cook in, a small refrigerator that barely held anything, clothes in a suitcase, and far away from everything that I knew as home. My life changed drastically!

Although I was thankful for being able to come and go, my job understanding my situation, and my homecare wasn’t disturbed, it still wasn’t the same! It wasn’t just me that was in this situation, but everyone closes to me also had to make sacrifices for me. I had my home aides during the day, my brother would stay with me half the week at night and my aunt who is also my aide, stayed the other half of the week. Every 28 days by hotel laws, I had to leave the hotel and spend two nights at my mother's house in New Jersey, which played a huge toll on my body if I had to work the next day. Understand, yes, I had my mother's place to go to, but to live my independent life, all my services are in New York. Homecare, health care, my job, all in which keeps me stable and going. I had to deal with so many opinions and assumptions! As if living in a hotel was cool, great, that at least I was able to come and go, little did they know, it wasn’t that easy. Yes, it’s cool to stay at a hotel for a FEW nights, but not to LIVE for almost a year! The constant fight between my landlord, management, and I played with my mental health. There were times they threatened to stop paying for my stay, tried to put me in motel that was dangerous and not accessible, and every month waited to the very last minute

to pay for my stay which made me very anxious. It got so bad that they started to not take my advocate Mr. Jones seriously. They began to ignore his calls and e-mails. I had to ask the hotel front desk if they can contact them of my stay. EMBARRASSING!! I cried so much about this situation. I cried almost every day. It was to the point, that it was the only thing I would talk about, for I didn’t know when I will ever return home. I felt so alone!

At the beginning of this situation my pregnant sister visited me every weekend, my friends visited, and I would visit the first floor of my building to see them, but as the months continued, all that stopped! It became difficult! My pregnant sister was closer to her due date, my friends stopped coming around, and it got too cold for me to be outside for too long! Time passed, day after day, night after night, months after months, it felt like I was never going home. I felt as if management wanted me to move out of my apartment and that’s why it was taking so long. For I couldn’t get it! They were spending money on my stay at a hotel, shouldn’t they work harder on fixing the elevators?

Not only was I at a constant battle with the management of my building, but I also dealt with A LOT of other matters during this year while living at the hotel. I’ve experienced a ton of body pains because the bed mattress wasn’t made for my body, missed appointments, I caught Covid, was admitted into the hospital, and all while just trying to get back home, was dealing with my advocate having feelings for me. I felt my world wasn’t going to catch a break!

There are no words to express my gratitude of the help I was provided by my advocate. Mr. Jones, but noticing that after 9 months my advocates attention wasn’t only on trying to get me home, but rather in trying to gain my interests, I had to take matters back into my own hands! I started contacting bigger people. I contacted the Congressman office of Ritchie Torres, the Bronx Borough President office, and the Bronx Defenders. I called until someone answered. Both the congressman and the Bronx Borough President office contacted me, and I thought, thank goodness, maybe they will help!

Both the Congressman of Ritchie Torres office, Mr. R. Jordan Senior Constituent Services Liaison and the Bronx Borough President office Mr. C. Hankins case worker, responded back to me. I explained to them both my situation. I spoke to both while I was sick in the hospital with post covid pneumonia. They both gave me hope. A week later, Mr. Jordon from the congressman office stated that he spoken with management of my building and declared that I lied about my situation. He stated, I made it seemed as if I was homeless. That I said I had no place to go, was living in the first-floor hallway of my building and was bouncing from friend's home. I was appalled by these accusations and could not believe that he made up a complete story about things I had never said! I could not believe someone who is representing a congressman could lie and accuse what I was experiencing! I have always been transparent about what was going on with me. However, he still wanted to work on my case!… I did not want someone who was lying about my situation to represent me. I did not feel comfortable! I expressed to my social worker, Ms. Tania, from Independent Care System, that I did not want him to work on my case if he thinks I’m lying, and she agreed! Therefore, I stopped all communication with him. Mr. Hankins from the Bronx Borough President office on the other hand, made me feel safe! I told him what happened with my landlord as well as what occurred with the congressman liaison, and he provided me with great information and started working on my case right away! Within the end of the month, he assisted me in getting home, BUT the fight didn’t stop there!

On July 22nd, 2022, I was told I was going home by my advocate Mr. Jones. He explained Ms. Tonnette Turks the manager of my apartment building, told him that the elevators were working, and I had to go home the next day. I contacted both my social worker, Ms. Tania (who I was able to speak to) and Mr. Hankins (who I could not reach) to inform them about what was occurring. When I checked out of the hotel and went back to my apartment building, which I must admit was nervous, only one elevator was working and less than an hour of being home, I got stuck in the elevator for 5 minutes.

Now, six months later, I am still battling the same issue. Every other day the elevator isn’t working, some days I must spend the night at my mother's house. I am anxious all the time. It’s either I’m nervous that I may not be able to go to work, or that I won’t be able to get upstairs to my house. I’ve been missing out on work, appointments, and family gatherings. I’ve tried calling law offices and it’s just has been a run around. It’s always another matter, not theirs. I’ve been searching for a place where it fits my budget however, I don’t feel like I should have to move because the landlords can’t do their job appropriately and professionally!

With all that I’ve been through, there has always been one thing that was and will continue to be for certain, I will never give up! I know my rights and I will continue to fight until my needs are complied. Hey, they may hate me at the end of all this, but my name and how hard I fought, they will never forget!