
One of 20 bridge houses at New Beginnings in Fayetteville, ARK., equipped with heating and cooling, and a fridge. The homes are available to qualifying individuals experiencing chronic homelessness. Photo by Evian Keels
By Evian Keels
Ruth Ann Hefner assured me she has no relation to Hugh Hefner as she plopped herself in the rolling office chair across from me. She wore purple reading glasses and kept an extra teal pair on top of her head, right in front of her silver blonde ponytail. She’s 67 years old, but she could easily pass as 40-something, which she knows and is proud of. She slouched back in the chair like a frat guy in a couch, but when I asked something that caught her attention, she would sit straight up. Her favorite soda is Coke, but she’ll take a Dr. Pepper. She likes to get her nails done, she likes writing, and she believes being happy is a choice you make in each passing moment. She lives about fifty feet south of where we sat in the office, in the second row of a series of 20 tiny homes built to shelter the unhoused.
The number of people experiencing homelessness on a single night in 2024 was the highest ever recorded across the country. A total of 771,480 people, or about 23 of every 10,000 people in the United States, experienced homelessness in an emergency shelter, safe haven, transitional housing program, or in unsheltered locations nationwide, according to the Department of Housing and Urban Development’s annual homelessness assessment report. The Northwest Arkansas Continuum of Care reported that over 400 people were homeless in Northwest Arkansas in January of 2024.
Among those people, not everyone is without a home in the same way. Some find housing with friends or family, others live out of their car until they can get back on their feet. For about a third, however, it’s chronic. The term chronic homelessness refers to people who have experienced homelessness for at least a year, or repeatedly, and who struggle with a disabling condition of some kind, such as a mental illness, substance abuse disorder, or physical disability.
New Beginnings is tucked into the southside of Fayetteville; it’s a three-and-a-half-acre plot of land, which is mostly woods. But a little less than a mile from the main drag of School Avenue, past the trees and brush, there are 20 stark white tiny homes staggered in rows and connected by sidewalk. Imagine the green Monopoly houses you would line up on Park Place or Pennsylvania Avenue as a kid, except these are colorless and sit on 19th Street.
The cabins include a bed, heating and cooling, a fridge, and storage shelves. There are also three medical respite houses of the same size, known as “A Place to Heal”. The respite houses work with Washington Regional Hospital, allowing nurses to match homeless patients who are being discharged with a safe place to stay. As of 2024, 100% of residents in the medical respite avoided hospital readmission while recuperating. There is also a communal “community center” on the property. The community center is a small black trailer in front of the individual cabins. Inside there is a commercial kitchen, shower house, laundry service, and meeting space, including the office where Isat with Ruth Ann. The neighborhood serves as free bridge housing; a transitional step for individuals to move from temporary or emergency housing into long-term stable housing. Bridge housing programs are specifically for those experiencing chronic homelessness.
Bridge housing is a type of “Housing First” program. It’s called Housing First because it’s based on the principle that you must first put a roof over someone’s head before trying to fix anything else. Housing First policies have two main principles according to the Manhattan Institute: the most effective solution to homelessness is permanent housing and all housing for the homeless should be provided immediately, without any preconditions, such as sobriety requirements or employment.
The Housing First model was initially developed in New York City in the late 1980s and early 1990s, largely through the work of psychologist Dr. Sam Tsemberis. His program, Pathways to Housing, which started in 1992, became one of the most well-known examples of the Housing First model. Pathways to Housing started an initiative that demonstrated that providing stable housing first led to better long-term outcomes, such as reduced homelessness, improved mental health, and decreased substance abuse. The U.S. government began integrating Housing First into its Homelessness Prevention and Rapid Re-Housing Program in the 2000s.
New Beginnings opened in 2021 and through the program, 70% of residents have successfully obtained identification documents, 80% have obtained health insurance or began attending health appointments, and 90% fulfilled their obligations to maintain residency in the community, according to the program’s website. Additionally, the Social Interventions Research and Evaluation Network reported in 2020 that Housing First programs improved housing stability and reduced homelessness more effectively than treatment first programs, which require clients to be “housing ready” meaning in psychiatric treatment and substance free before receiving housing. Since Housing First methods have proven to be so effective in improving homelessness, it begs the question, why are there not more of them?
Executive Director of New Beginnings Solomon Burchfield has been with New Beginnings since the start. He was recruited by the University of Arkansas, which owned the land first, to help with the execution of the program. While Burchfield had faith in the process, he said it was harder than he expected to find likeminded people within the community. New Beginnings is made possible from government grants, but another large part of theirsupport comes from private donors and local volunteers. Burchfield said it was hard to find support because most people who he spoke with in the beginning stages were convinced New Beginnings wouldn’t work. He said many of the naysayers thought it wouldn’t be a place where people would get better, they thought it would be a place where violence and drug use would be out of control. But when you visit New Beginnings today, four years later, it’s the opposite of what most people were extremely reluctant to support.
One resident who prefers to remain anonymous helps regularly with the community vegetable garden. She is about 5’3” and wore a purple knit jacket with a hood she pulled up over her ponytail when it started to rain, which didn’t stop her from giving a tour and stopping along the way to empty trash bins. She had green cargo pants on and a pair of red work boots. She walked slowly as if she was thinking about the intention behind each of her steps. I followed her as she led me in between the raised beds in the middle of the neighborhood. She bent down to check on each plant by lightly touching the leaves between her thumb and index finger. She, who for the purpose of this article will be called Susan, stepped over puddles while explaining what was growing in each bed and what it could be used for. She plucked some lemon balm, advised me to do the same, and said she likes to use it in her tea. The residents get to choose whatthey want to grow and then their garden coordinator teaches them the best time to plant the seeds. Any excess vegetables, ones that are not used by the residents, are loaded up and hauled just to the end of the road to be sold in a vegetable stand that the residents operate. They also grow flowers in the garden, which Susan said affects how the vegetables grow, causing them to absorb the scent of the flowers and in turn make them more flavorful. Later she laughed and told me she wasn’t sure if that was true.
Susan has lived at New Beginnings for about a year and is currently saving for a new car for herself and her dog, Ava Bear. Each resident has a designated responsibility as a contributing community member. While Susan oversees the vegetable garden, Ruth Ann is a part of the council. The council includes three members of the community who have been elected by the residents to serve for three weeks. They meet each Wednesday, reviewing rules and addressing any issues that might have come up between residents the past week. During one meeting, they addressed a complaint from a resident that one man was playing music too loud around seven in the morning, during quiet hours. He received a warning that Ruth Ann signed off on.

Susan bending down to check on and show off a strawberry growing in a garden adjacent to the raised beds. Photo by Evian Keels
A part of Housing First programs is that they are completely community centered, with the intention of giving the residents an opportunity to learn how to live in a neighborhood and be a neighbor. They make the rules, and they enforce them. There are hammocks outside, two different sections of lawn chairs, a punching bag hanging from the big oak tree, three gardens, and three meals provided every day. But what can’t be seen that the residents are grateful for is privacy.
Mike Davis has been a social worker and life skills coach at New Beginnings for the past year. He studied social work in college and after completing an internship at New Beginnings, he said he felt called to stay. He recalled a moment from his first days when he realized how important it was to have a low barrier housing program in Northwest Arkansas. Low barrier means that the housing program significantly reduces or eliminates obstacles that prevent individuals from accessing services. For example, you do not have to be sober, you do not have to have a job, and you do not have to get rid of your pet if you want to stay at New Beginnings.
“On my first day here, a new resident told me it was the first time in 30 years that they could relax,” Davis recalled. “Because they actually had a door that closed and locked behind them.”
According to a study done by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, people who are homeless are at an elevated risk for experiencing substance abuse disorders (SUDs), mental disorder, trauma, medical conditions, employment challenges, and incarceration. This is to say homelessness usually comes first, before the symptoms that many people with access to housing use as reasoning to turn a blind eye.
“They’re killing it, and you know it because they’re not dead,” Davis said. “They are crushing it because they are keeping themselves alive.” The National Institute of Health reported in 2022 that a recovery-oriented approach, such as the Housing First model, was proven effective in stabilizing housing situations of homeless individuals with severe mental disorders, which is common among those experiencing chronic homelessness.
There is a waitlist to join New Beginnings and even though it is a low barrier housing program, there are still certain requirements to become a resident. There is a local information technology system called the Homeless Management Information System (HMIS) that helps people in charge of shelters find residents who are best suited for the program. The database helps communities track people at risk of and experiencing homelessness and how they interact with services. Davis said there are people every day who knock on the doors and ask for a place to stay, whether they’re on the waitlist or not.
Recently, New Beginnings started a supportive housing program using duplexes they own because of a government grant. Each participant’s rent is subsidized so people living on disability income never have to pay more than 30% of their monthly income on housing and can keep 70% of their income to live on. It is considered “second chance” housing for tenants who are working to resolve criminal or credit background issues or who do not have any tenant history due to long-term homelessness. They plan to expand the supportive housing program, along with the bridge and respite housing.
But as New Beginnings focuses on expanding in Fayetteville, some towns most towns haven’t even began. In fact, Davis said it isn’t unusual for him to receive calls from people who want to know how New Beginnings works, so they can implement something similar into their own community. The calls are usually from mayors of cities most people haven’t heard of like Peoria, Illinois, and they get passed on to Burchfield. Burchfield says it’s not the kind of thing he can explain over the phone, so they better just come visit, which they often do.
Ruth Ann lived in a homeless camp in a secluded area off a trail that isn’t far from where she lives now for three years before moving into New Beginnings. When I asked how she came to be homeless, she laughed and said, “You’ll think this is funny.”
Ruth Ann grew up in Beebe, Arkansas. She said each of her parents were successful athletes, but she wasn’t sure if she inherited the athletic gene. She grew up in a middle-class family, studied accounting in college, and started working after graduation. Then, she bought a house in Northwest Arknasas. When her parents died, she inherited $1.5 million. It was hard for her to recall the year her parents passed away. It was hard for her to answer most questions regarding dates. On more than one occasion, she asked me to ask again when she could refer to her records. She keeps notes about her days and hopes to compile them into a memoir eventually, but right now her focus is saving for her apartment.
Ruth Ann says after college, she suffered from some ailment that affected her nerves and caused her to lose muscular control. Her doctors, she said, determined it was not life threatening though they couldn’t give her a diagnosis. She began seeing more doctors for muscle control issues throughout her body, hoping to get a clear answer. She said it felt like a fight against her body and to win, she had to figure out what was wrong. After 15 years of testing and medical bills, she never got a for sure diagnosis. At this point, her inheritance had run out and she was forced into homelessness.
During the time she was camping, Ruth Ann got most of her meals from local churches that provide a meal service to those who might need it. She relied mostly on Genesis Church on M.L.K. Boulevard and now she’s a volunteer there. She said although it was sometimes hard to find transportation, it wasn’t difficult finding food in Fayetteville because there are churches and shelters that offer meals.
One of those places is 7Hills. 7Hills is a nonprofit organization on School Avenue that mostly serves as a day shelter just up the road from 19th Street. They helped Ruth Ann get connected to New Beginnings. When she joined the waitlist, she said she was prepared to be patient, but it felt like they called her right away. She said she wasn’t nervous at all to move in, just excited and relieved.

Ruth Ann at the kitchen table in the community center at New Beginnings, taking notes as a council member at her weekly meeting. Photo by Evian Keels
Her most recent council meeting took place in the kitchen and included a variety of meats, cheeses, and bread that Davis picked up on his way to work and spread strategically onto a wooden cutting board, which he placed in the middle of the round table for everyone to eat. He also picked up Ruth Ann’s favorite soda, which she was relieved to see because she had just convinced herself not to buy one on her walk home from her volunteer shift at Genesis Church where she helps with meals.
During the meeting, one council member didn’t show, but Ruth Ann worked with Davis and the remaining council member to address issues regarding things like pets, weapons, and cigarette butts. If a visitor has a weapon, anything bigger than a pocketknife, it must be left at the front desk. Pets shouldn’t be left unattended in the cabins for long periods of time, though that will be a hard one to enforce. And there needs to be a greater incentive for throwing cigarette butts away. Ruth Ann suggested colorful trash bins with a friendly anti-littering slogan. Davis mentioned the cigarette receptacles that have an opinion-based question and below it two answers, each with a clear bin underneath used as a poll box and the butts as votes. Ruth Ann liked that idea better and offered to make it herself. She didn’t eat any of the food but offered to take my plate at the end of the meeting.
As she walked across the kitchen toward the sink, she sighed, “I never thought I would be homeless, I really never did.”
We sat back down at the table and began reflecting on her journey and what her future holds. She smiled imagining her apartment that she hopes to have by the end of the year. I also asked her what she thinks about the future of homelessness in Northwest Arkansas.
“Low income is growing, so I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Ruth Ann said. “But I do know that we’ve gotten too negative.”
As Ruth Ann stood up out of her chair, she gave me hug. “You can be happy here and happy there,” she said. “Or you can be grouchy here and grouchy there. Why would you not be happy?”
Just this past January, Ruth Ann was sleeping in her tent on the side of a trail. Today, she’s taking steps toward rebuilding her life, one stable night at a time. Her story isn’t rare, it’s just rare that people like her are offered a second chance and New Beginnings is working to change that. Housing First initiatives prove that homelessness isn’t unsolvable, it’s a matter of priorities. As cities debate budgets and shelter policies, the question doesn’t have to be what works. It’s whether people are out there who are willing to help make it happen.