On the Edge: A Single Mother’s Fight in the Housing Crisis
Jessi has experienced both the highs and lows of housing, finding temporary stability only to have it stripped away by forces beyond her control. Born into housing instability, her mother lived in a tent while pregnant. A period of stability came when Jessi and her mom moved in with Jessi’s aunt. But even then, the precariousness of her early years shaped her view on housing security.
By age 21, Jessi was a single mother struggling to find her footing. Her life mirrored the uncertainty of her childhood — rootless, transient, and always on the verge of something breaking.
She has lived in and out of public housing for years up to the present.
“It’s challenging to feel at home when you know it can be taken away from you at any moment,” she says. “With public housing, there are random inspections and the constant fear of losing my place. It often feels more like borrowing space than truly living in it.”
Her passion for advocacy began during the Occupy Wall Street movement and the housing crisis of 2008. She met her husband during this time, and together they dreamed of building a life and starting an urban farm in town. After a while, they moved to a house in Sparta, Missouri, and envisioned creating a community around sustainable living. But those dreams faded as the reality of low-income housing and systemic barriers took their toll.
In 2015, Jessi and her then-husband worked their way into a rent-to-own “forever home.” It was a welcome relief to be free from the conditions of low-income rentals — no more pests, surprise inspections, or sudden rent hikes. Finally, she felt some control over her environment and safety. But this sense of security was short-lived.
“As the pandemic began, my marriage was coming to an end,” she said. “I had been a stay-at-home mom for 5 years. I did everything I could to avoid being at the mercy of irresponsible landlords again, including living off and on out of campers and vans, knowing that my new job could not afford a decent place for my son and me to live now that rent had doubled since we bought the house.”
Determined to avoid returning to unstable rentals, Jessi searched for an affordable place where she and her son could feel safe. After more than a year of searching, she was relieved to qualify for low-income housing again.
“I am grateful every single day to be in an affordable place,” she says.
But this relief is tempered by fear — the fear of complaining too much about ongoing issues like the severe bug infestation that forces her to keep dishes and food sealed in bins or the water leaking through windows that causes cracks and peels paint, creating lead dust and potential mold. All the while, she remains on a seemingly endless waitlist for a two-bedroom apartment, sharing a cramped studio with her eight-year-old son.
As a full-time Community Health Worker, Jessi excels at helping residents navigate the fragmented and overwhelming web of underfunded services, including housing. Yet, despite her expertise, she struggles to secure a safe and stable home for her family, highlighting the failures of Springfield’s housing system. This struggle is underscored by a recent 5-4 City Council vote, which rejected a proposal to include “housing” in a ¾-cent sales tax initiative expected to generate $3-5 million annually. This decision came despite pleas from dozens of residents and advocates supporting Councilman Jenson’s amendment aimed at addressing the housing crisis.
Earlier this year, the council unanimously named “quality housing options” an official priority, making their choice to prioritize funding for an already fully funded police and firefighter pension even more disheartening. City officials often claim there isn’t enough funding for housing, yet they allocate millions to other priorities, missing real opportunities to tackle the escalating housing crisis. As a result, families like Jessi’s remain in unsafe and unstable conditions, waiting for meaningful action.
Jessi’s advocacy extends beyond her personal experience. As a member of the Housing Advocacy Committee, she works to hold city officials accountable for implementing policies like the proposed rental inspection program. Originally spearheaded by Councilman Jenson, the committee pushes for safer, more accountable housing, but progress has been slow. Implementing this plan requires holding officials responsible—a challenge Jessi knows well. Meanwhile, Springfield’s affordable housing is rapidly disappearing, with properties being sold and converted into luxury apartments, leaving families like hers and those she serves in the lurch. Her sense of urgency drives her to advocate for immediate change.
“We’re all just one paycheck away from eviction,” she warns. Despite her education and years of experience, opportunities are limited, and wages often don’t cover the cost of living. “Why do only some of us get to live comfortably? We’re letting capitalism push us into situations where only the fortunate can thrive. These conditions shouldn’t be the norm.”
Beyond her advocacy, she is a known and respected figure in Springfield’s arts and activism scenes, contributing to community initiatives like Queen City Rock Camp, volunteering with Jobs with Justice (JwJ), and partnering with the local Unitarian Universalist Church. For Jessi, this fight isn’t just about her own experience — it’s about creating a future where her son and others like him don’t have to live in fear of losing their homes. It’s about building a world where stability and security in housing aren’t privileges but rights everyone can count on.
In her 13 years as a fair housing advocate, Jessi has found encouragement in the recent impact Springfield Tenants Unite (STUN) has had in challenging the dominant narrative that housing is an unsolvable problem. As a member and leader of STUN, she has not only witnessed the hard work and commitment of fellow tenant union members but has also actively contributed to advancing the Healthy Homes Guarantee campaign, the union’s answer for a rental inspection ordinance with tenant protections.
“I’ve seen STUN’s dedication in tackling these challenges,” she says. “We need to hold the city council accountable for implementing real solutions, like the rental inspection program, and we must keep showing up, sharing our stories, and advocating for change.”
As STUN continues to evolve as a powerful catalyst for change, Jessi’s hope burns brightly, fueled by the conviction that through collective action and demanding more from our leaders, ordinary people can achieve the extraordinary.
Spanish 
English