Sebastopol's homeless outreach coordinator is moving on

Maria Rico talks about her day-to-day and what she's accomplished in a year and a half in the city.

“I feel like that's the reason why a lot of the more vulnerable population likes to come to this area,” says Maria Rico, “because there is are lot of compassionate persons out here.” (Photo via Maria Rico)

Known as simply “Rico” by Sebastopol’s homeless population, Maria Rico is the one to hook it up.

Do you need to get in line for housing? She’s got you. Do you need to get mental health care? She knows where to go and who to talk to. Do you need a charger? A coffee? A venting session? A potential job opportunity?

Rico has got you.

“[The name] went around like wildfire,” she recalls of the beginning of her one-and-a half-year stint with West County Community Services. “I’d have one person sitting at [The Community Church of Sebastopol] telling everybody, ‘You need to call Rico! Here’s her number. You need to call Rico.’ By the time they’re done, they will have told 10 people they needed to call Rico.”

Today, Thursday, Sept. 12, is Rico’s last day on the job. In a couple weeks she will be at a new federal job providing housing and supportive services to the Dry Creek Rancheria Band of Pomo Indians, a community she identifies with heavily. This, in addition to getting married, means the nickname is set to be retired for good.

“I’m going to get engaged and married soon,” she said. “I’m going to let go of that name. This was kind of my last chance to to celebrate my maiden name before I move on to my next chapter.”

In spite of recently released county data which shows that the unsheltered homeless population of Sebastopol has increased by over 100 percent—from 47 to 108—over the past year, Rico is confident she is leaving the community better off than she found it. She tells me she’s housed 30 people during her tenure, with eight others well into the process of being housed.

“Now I actually have a caseload and things are already moving,” Rico said, as she described to me how she is setting up her replacement for success.

Rico uses what she calls “housing problem solving,” in which she explores the options that are available at a given time, including moving in with a friend or family member, getting enrolled in Coordinated Entry, and seeing if they’d be open to moving to another town like Petaluma or Cloverdale if temporary or permanent housing becomes available.

“The key is collaborating with all the organizations, from housing to mental health and substance abuse services,” she said. “We’re operating under the “home first” model, which means they don’t have to necessarily get clean and sober to get housed. In the past, you had to go into a shelter, stay clean and sober, follow the rules and then get housed. Now, because they’re understanding that not everybody does well in a congregate setting [like a shelter], especially people that have a lot of trauma, who don’t like to be in a confined environment like that with a bunch of people.”

Rico also makes sure that the status of each person is up to date and that they are aware of the resources even if they are not interested in them at the moment.

“We can enhance their assessment, especially if they have they have some kind of terminal illness, because at that point, we’re saying this person should be prioritized over all the other ones,” she said. “If they say, ‘No, I’m not interested,’ then I’m like, ‘Okay, that’s fine. But if you ever change your mind, let me know.’”

Rico also has the knowledge of the system to introduce people to opportunities they may have not been previously aware of, whether that is a place to sleep or an “Obama phone.”

“They are constantly getting robbed from each other,” she said. “Phones come and go. As far as Obama phones, you can only get so many in your lifetime. If you have an ID and you’re getting Medi-Cal or food stamps, and you’re homeless, you could get a free Obama phone.”

Rico leaves her tenure sure that not only did she help people, but she became better at her job in the process.

“When you’re out here on your own covering a whole area, you really get to see what you can do alone,” she said. “Now I see in the whole community how much of it was me and where I’m strong and where I’m weak, and I was able to refine that in the process. What works with some doesn't work with others. So you have to stay flexible in this job, and I love that about it. It keeps it creative. There is never a dull moment. I am always trying to figure out a solution to a new problem.”

Rico’s approach to solving those problems has been informed by her experience working in the mental health and recovery space.

“Keep it simple, you know?” she said. “When I go to [the homeless] and they’re overwhelmed with all these things that I’m telling them, I’m like, ‘Focus on tasks 1, 2 and 3.’ Let me write it down. You lost a paper. Here it is again. Let me remind you. When somebody’s in trauma, they can’t remember nothing. They don’t even know what day it is half the time.”

“Every story is different,” she continued. “Everybody has different strengths and weaknesses, so it takes someone to really be willing to take the time and listen to all the components of them and highlight their strengths, because a lot of times they’re more resilient than they realize. And I remind them, ‘You’re still alive after all that. Look, you’re sitting right here and you’re still alive.’ Sometimes they need that reminder, and they don’t always accept it right away. They don’t usually, but it’s good to tell them, and that’s where you're planting your seeds and nurturing them, so that you can come back around and remind them, ‘What are you working on now? How are you working towards a solution? How can I help you work towards a solution? How can I make your day better?’”

It is as though Rico is a genie, the granting of wishes being her M.O.

Except not all wishes can be granted. After all, no one is ever free to do whatever they want.

“[It is] a really sensitive topic, which is making sure [the homeless] are not damaging our ecosystem, and they're keeping, like, the streets clean and safe for people to live in in safely,” she said. “Like no needles on the ground kind of thing, and cleaning up after themselves. Whenever that communication needs to happen with them, it’s done best with outreach. ‘Hey, your area is kind of messed up. You need to clean it up.’ ‘There’s kids trying to pass through here.’ ‘You know they’re calling the police on you because they need to be able to walk through the streets.’”

Rico, like many others who work her beat—or who do any kind of work with the most mentally-ill and addicted among us—must also keep in mind her own safety, especially when a tantrum is being thrown.

“I maintain physical distance when they get like that,” she said. “I'm letting them know, ‘Hey, you’re close to me right now. You’re not making me feel safe. So I'm going to be over here, but I'm willing to talk to you, because I want to help you.’ But if I don’t feel safe putting him in my car, I'm not going to do it. I have a big heart. I don’t just hear. I listen. And so they feel that, and when they feel that, they respect it. And so when they’re not right in their head, they naturally get away from me.”

Unfortunately, it would seem that many in the homelessness field in Sonoma County have not been as thoughtful as Rico. After an investigation by The Press Democrat revealed major billing issues on the part of DEMA, a company that housed people temporarily during the pandemic, and after the abrupt closing of the SAY Dream Center, some in the community have worried that all the money being spent on homelessness on the county and state level isn’t actually helping people on the ground.

“It was heartbreaking for all the rest of us that are boots on the ground and getting very little income and this and that,” she said. “Like, ‘You’re embezzling, and we need money that we can’t even get.’ We're upset, you know, because that money is supposed to go to help [the homeless], and it’s not. I’m a taxpayer, you know; a lot of my check went to that too.”

In the end, Rico controls what she can control, which during her tenure was providing many of the cheap things the homeless population of Sebastopol needs on a daily basis, like phone chargers, bathrooms and respect.

And, she is sure to add, many of the greatest parts about living in Sebastopol, like meals at The Community Church of Sebastopol and Sebastopol Christian Church, come at no cost at all.

“I feel like that’s the reason why a lot of the more vulnerable population likes to come to this area, because there is a lot of that compassionate type of person out here,” she said. “You know, they blend in really well with the hippie culture. They love Peacetown. They go out there to party, because even if they're homeless, they're down in the park, and that’s their house.”