Guest Commentary: Meeting People Where They Are

No two people are the same. No two circumstances are identical. The challenges we face are unique—shaped by our environments, our resources, our past decisions, and, to some extent, a roll of the dice. Randomness plays a role, no doubt.

There are also the seeds of a logical progression in our lives—events for which we bear responsibility. Together, these two forces create circumstances so unique that many traditional systems struggle to address them.

That’s why we were honored last year to receive funding from the Arkansas Office of Skills Development to launch a first-of-its-kind pilot: the Western Arkansas Transitional Employment Program (WATEP). Built with support from Judges Grimes, Sharum, and Terry of the Western Arkansas District Court, WATEP was designed for individuals with active district court cases who were unemployed or underemployed, but quickly grew to attract many more individuals in crisis situations, so we adapted. 

From day one, our goal was to offer something different—something more dynamic, responsive, and flexible that can meet the myriad needs that keep countless Arkansans sidelined and unable to participate in our workforce and communities.

What sets WATEP apart isn’t just who we serve, but how we serve. The program’s structure gives us the ability to respond to individual needs with flexibility and creativity. We often say we were given enough rope to hang ourselves—but instead, we’re using it to build lifelines. And we’re already beginning to see results that wouldn’t be possible without this model.

Here’s one thing we’ve learned: Most people want to work. The idea that "nobody wants to work" just doesn’t hold up—not with the folks we meet. In fact, most of the people referred to WATEP are deeply motivated. They’re not lazy. They’re not looking to live off the system. Instead, most aren’t working because they’re facing overwhelming obstacles to job retention—from skills deficits, to transportation challenges or unstable housing, childcare gaps, and toxic relationships that they wrongly believe they have to rely on to meet their needs of basic survival.

Still, what many of them show, day after day, is resilience. Even as they endure more in a week than many face in a year, they press on. Getting their kids to school, attending court and probation appointments, pursuing education, working to secure housing, finding ways to get to work—even if it means walking or borrowing a neighbor's car. They’re juggling multiple responsibilities with very few resources, and often doing it with a level of grit that commands respect.

Transportation alone is a case study in complexity. Some participants have never had a driver’s license. Others lost it due to unpaid fines or a DWI. Some can’t afford a car. Some are still making payments on one that doesn’t run. Many are sharing one car with a household of five. It’s not just about having a way to get to work—it’s about navigating a maze every single day, just to survive.

The same is true for housing, childcare, and documentation. Even obtaining a social security card can become a roadblock without proper ID. These aren’t occasional inconveniences. They’re everyday realities.

And yet—there is hope. Every week, we celebrate wins: a new job, a GED graduation, a new apartment, a driver’s license, a milestone in recovery. These victories might seem small to some, but for our participants, they represent enormous steps forward.

WATEP has also highlighted something bigger: the systems meant to support people are often too rigid to do so effectively. Many programs are bound by red tape, eligibility checklists, and one-size-fits-all solutions. Even the most motivated individuals can’t access help because the systems aren’t built for flexibility.

That’s where we need change. We don’t necessarily need more money. We need smarter systems. More flexible funding. More trust in the frontline case managers who know the people and understand their needs. Programs like WATEP should be seen not as exceptions, but as examples of what’s possible when we give communities the freedom to innovate.

So far, WATEP has served about 80 people in Western Arkansas, a region rich in service providers. But this model has statewide potential. We’ve spoken with communities and judges across Arkansas who want to replicate it. With committed partners and competent local teams, WATEP could help thousands of Arkansans each year out of crisis, reduce long-term costs to the state, and improve economic outcomes for families and communities.

WATEP isn’t a handout. It’s an investment—in employment, education, and human potential. It benefits not just participants, but courts, nonprofits, employers, families, and entire communities. With the right support, it could become a statewide engine for transformation.

If you’re interested in learning more, partnering, or bringing WATEP to your community, I’d love to talk.