Extended Interview:

My name is Sharlene Danielle Corbett. I give my full consent to this interview, and truth will set you free — there is absolutely nothing I don't want to talk about.

I'm Sharlene Corbett, and I was a resident at the West 415 tiny home village. I was one of the first members of the establishment. The one I was in was a special project for the mayor of Vancouver, Washington, and it was really nice to see her there all the time showing support and genuine humanity. I was in unit number seven.

For anyone who doesn't know, 415 is located downtown, off of 11th Street, in the downtown district near the waterfront park. It's maybe four blocks altogether, with around 20 individual units. It's a tiny home village for people struggling with homelessness who want to get into housing and also have access to different kinds of treatment to get off substances and into recovery.

I am turning 46 today. I'm originally from Oregon — born in Portland, raised in the Willamette Valley with a single mom. I have two other siblings who are all grown up with their own families. I have a niece and nephew who live in Eugene. My niece is 13 and a cheerleader, and my nephew I'm really pushing toward football. And I have my cat, Alucard, who's running around. I had another one, but he got sick and I had to put him to sleep. I really think that if it weren't for my cats, I wouldn't have anything that I have today.

How would I describe myself in a few words? Genuine, transparent, and authentic. And brutally honest — sometimes a little too much.

I struggled a lot growing up knowing that my parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. You kind of just get thrown into that dysfunctional family dynamic right away. Everyone in the same situation as me just grows up in that environment. Being the firstborn with siblings, I took the brunt of everything first. It just made life hard. I started experiencing homelessness and wanting to get away as early as age 13.

And I've since found out that even before that, I didn't really have a stable family dynamic. I was a baby being passed from family to family, which I only recently found out. Everything I was raised to believe isn't exactly what was happening. So therapy has been incredible. I've essentially been raising myself since childhood with no real parents.

During that time, it was my grandparents and my cousins who were there. Me and all my cousins are very tight because we all grew up in the same dynamic — we understand each other. Now that we're adults, we keep that connectedness. The roles have reversed — we're raising our parents now instead of the other way around.

This painting here is one my mom did when she was 17, in high school. It's exactly how I feel about the world. It's off an album called Oxygen by some 70s artist my mom loved. She painted it at 17, so it's 47 years old now, and I've had it a long time. I'll probably have it cremated with me.

Things started to change for me once I got back on my medication and into a consistent routine with it. Then there was hope. But it was a struggle, because I'm bipolar one, and that's a lot to deal with on top of everything else. Once I was able to get on medication, sleep off my mania, I could finally get rest, eat, and sleep. I slowly started getting my appointments in — dentist, doctor — and I was able to manage my meds and go to therapy. I was able to do all of that through Bridge City Medical in Portland, Oregon.

Portland Transitional Projects was also a huge resource. It's an outreach facility for people experiencing homelessness where you can come in and take showers, get mail, and use lockers for a little bit of stability. It's week to week, so you have to re-sign up regularly. They help you get into shelters, help you get an ID — pretty much any kind of help you need. It's similar to what Outsiders In does, but in a big building. I still can't believe we got to spend Christmas in there — we got all kinds of gifts, spoiled with presents and money. That was when the government was giving out the $2,000 checks, so everybody was so grateful.

Everyone at Portland Transitional Projects is a recovering addict themselves. They've already been through homelessness, done drug court or rehab, and they're paying it forward. That's exactly what the people at Outsiders In do too — they've either experienced homelessness or addiction and recovery, and they want to give back to the community. That's what everybody wants to do. And for me, once I'm able to get my GED and go to school, I want to become a social worker and help teenagers so they don't have to struggle the way I did. I didn't have any real guidance growing up, so my heart is in helping kids dealing with drug addiction. That's my goal.

My community is everything. I wouldn't have the momentum I have today without the people I've met who have engaged in my life. It's so crucial to have people who genuinely care. Any of the staff, any of the management at 415, any of the management at the other shelters I've been in — they cared. They saw my struggle and said, "We know you're different. You're not like everyone else here." And it was like, finally — people can see that. I'm not just here to do nothing. I can't stay on that low frequency. We've got to be on the up and up.

I surrounded myself with people who wanted recovery, who wanted mental health support, who wanted to be in therapy. People who didn't just want to be strung out on drugs. I was beyond strung out on drugs — I was strung out on life, and I was done with all of it. Nothing was nurturing me anymore. I was completely drained.

Now, when anyone meets me — any of the staff — they'd say, "Oh, you're really here." And I'd say, yeah. I am.

It hasn't always been easy to fight for that space — saying, "Hey, I'm different. I do want recovery. These people are messing with me and I'm not about that. I want to stay focused on what I'm trying to accomplish." There was a lot of back and forth, and I was told I needed to be nicer. But I don't have the stomach to sugarcoat anything or coddle anyone because I was never coddled. I'm learning to be a little softer, but for me that's triggering — I don't want to enable anyone. Therapy has taught me a lot about how to navigate that.

I really have to give credit to the therapy I stuck with and my progression with medication. If I didn't have my medication, I wouldn't be as clean and sober as I am today.