The Humanity of Homelessness

Nurse, Mother, Fighter and Migrant Fields to Master Gardener: The Many Lives of Juanita Savoy‑Nash

At 6 years old, Juanita Savoy‑Nash was sleeping under a pickup truck, working fields for food, and going to school in clothes that smelled like the mattress she shared with her sisters. At 85, in the middle of chemotherapy and recently moved out of her camper van into her own apartment, she’s still finding ways to show up for her neighbors at Church at the Park—with rides, laundry, peanut butter sandwiches, and an open seat at the table. In our newest episode of The Humanity of Homelessness, John Marshall sits with Juanita to trace her journey through childhood homelessness, migrant labor, nursing, sex‑offender treatment work, early retirement, and eventually the grassroots community that became Church at the Park. She talks candidly about suicide attempts, the helplessness of poverty, the “magic in the air” when unhoused neighbors began serving one another in Cascade Gateway Park, and how passing out sandwiches and planting corn in a raised bed garden nurtured her as much as anyone she served. If you’ve ever wondered what actually changes when we move from “helping the homeless” to belonging with our neighbors who are living outside, this conversation is for you. Listen to Juanita’s story and join us in resisting the stories of fear and exclusion with a different one: I am beloved, and so is my neighbor.

From Parks to Programs: How Megan Perez Found Her Voice

At 16, Megan Perez grabbed the clothes on her back, boarded a train from Los Angeles to Salem, and stepped into a safe house closet that became her bed—and the start of a new life. In this episode, John Marshall sits down with Megan to trace her journey from a childhood marked by domestic violence, housing instability, and park-for-the-night survival, to becoming a youth pastor, case manager, program developer, and deeply trusted leader in homeless services across the Mid-Willamette Valley. Megan shares how acting as a “shield” for her mom and siblings shaped her sense of responsibility, why she didn’t initially recognize her own homelessness, and the moment at Church at the Park’s managed camping pilot when she realized, within an hour, “I can never do anything else with my life.” She reflects on supporting adults and youth in shelters, hotel turn-keys, and transitional housing, the limits of “housing first” when community is lost, and why collaboration, wraparound care, and honest stories matter more than neat outcomes. Along the way she names the people whose memories anchor her work, challenges common myths about people “coming for resources,” and offers a hopeful, honest vision of what it means for a community to truly show up for its neighbors.

I Chose Me: Michelle’s Path to Sobriety and Stability

In this episode, John Marshall sits down with Michelle Barnes, a former Church at the Park staff member whose journey has taken her from a chaotic childhood in Salem, through addiction, domestic violence, the loss of her children, and years of homelessness, to hard-won sobriety, stability, and service to others. Michelle shares candidly about surviving abuse, sex trafficking, multiple suicide attempts, and life in tents, cars, and shelters—and how community, recovery, and learning to choose herself have reshaped her story. Together they explore the complex relationship between trauma, mental health, addiction, and homelessness, why “just get a job” is not an answer, and where Michelle has found hope, dignity, and purpose as she now walks alongside neighbors still living outside.

Many Pathways, One Community - Reimagining Engagement in Salem: Sterling Cunio: Part II

In this part two conversation with Church at the Park staff member Sterling Cunio, the Humanity of Homelessness digs into a single, urgent question: what does meaningful involvement actually look like when it comes to our neighbors experiencing homelessness? Picking up where the first episode left off, Sterling walks through “minimum, medium, and maximum” pathways of engagement—from simply learning someone’s story, to building sustainable rhythms of service, to re-imagining how land, housing, and policy can be used so that everyone has access to shelter. Along the way, he reflects on his own journey with Salem, the power of tiny consistent actions, and what he learned about rest, ecosystem, and burnout from a recent artist residency in Costa Rica. Listeners will hear a candid invitation to join a community of people who are, in Sterling’s words, “consciously and deliberately engaged” in making things better, without romanticizing sacrifice or ignoring real limits. This episode is for anyone who has ever sat at a dinner table conversation about homelessness and wondered, “But what do I actually do next?”

Life After Consecutive Life Sentences: Sterling Cunio: Part I

In this episode of The Humanity of Homelessness, John sits down with writer, organizer, and former Church at the Park storyteller Sterling Cunio to trace a life that spans suburban Texas, Salem’s streets, nearly three decades in prison, and a surprising new vocation: waging joy in hard places. Sterling reflects on losing his grandmother, becoming homeless as a teenager, committing a serious act of violence, and receiving consecutive life sentences—then describes the interior work that began when a victim’s family member asked him a single, destabilizing question: “Why did you do it?” From that point, he talks about choosing nonviolence without any promise of release, discovering that “doing good felt good,” and being met by a web of community support that eventually opened the prison gates. Now, as a poet and member of the Ubuntu Commons Initiative, Sterling travels to places like Costa Rica, Washington D.C., and New Orleans, using story and art to help communities imagine systems change grounded in joy, relationship, and shared responsibility. Along the way, he shares what he sees when he walks Salem’s shelters and encampments, why he keeps “adopting” neighbors living outside in every city he visits, and how simple acts—like saying hello to someone on the street—can become small rebellions of hope