COMMUNITY CENTER HELPS OUT

Iris stood at the prison gate not long ago with a card in her hand and a
phone number. At that moment, all she knew was that she never wanted to go
back to jail. She was confused because someone from Caring Services was
supposed to pick her up. She waited, but no one arrived. She later found
out there was never any room for her.

Scared of not knowing where to go or what to do, she pulled out the card
again. A guard at the jail told Iris she would call that number for her.
The people on the other end - Nia Community Action Center - said to hang
on, they'd be there as soon as possible.

Her mind may have been cloudy that day, but she speaks with clarity and
optimism now.

On the streets, you really don't know how to live.

"I'm trying to re-learn everything," Iris, an articulate woman in her late
30s, said about her struggle to stay focused.

Part of the daily learning process includes getting along with the women in
her house, the one acquired by Derrick Whitaker more than three years ago
for the success of someone like Iris.

Or Diana, a soft-spoken 36-year-old who prefers sandals to heels and wears
her hair long. She's on her second wind. When the Nia center reached out to
her earlier this year, she just wasn't ready.

The Nia housing program is the only one that will accept Diana because of
her dual diagnoses: recovering drug addict and mental illness. She will be
bipolar-schizophrenic all her life, but she promises the illicit drugs
won't come back.

Three women currently live in the refuge house on White Oak Street. The
neighborhood is working to phase out dealers and addicts and visits from
police. When Whitaker opened the three houses (one for men, one for women,
and a third not in use since a recent fire caused extensive damage), the
neighborhood racked up 600 drug calls. By the next year, it was down to 20
or so.

Whitaker, Nia's founder and director, operates on a $70,000 budget. Most of
the money he raises goes directly to operating expenses. He and his staff
of five work full-time hours for part-time pay.

A retired Marine, he served his last tour in High Point as a recruiter. He
knew he wanted to settle here, and bought the three houses before he retired.

Nia is named for one of the seven principles of Kwanzaa, an African
American holiday that celebrates family, community and culture. Nia is the
principle of purpose and is focused on building and developing community.

The center started as a housing program that would give refuge to people
who are homeless or suffering drug addiction or disease.

Some are coming out of jail; some even convicted of murder. Whitaker helps
these folks get treatment (drug rehabilitation costs a minimum of $300), he
steers them away from neighbors and friends who are still getting high, and
then helps prepare them for a new job.

The program has evolved from a half-way house to a wholistic social
services agency.

"It's not just about drugs, it's about self," Whitaker said. "You take you
with you wherever you go. There are some good people living in this
neighborhood."

But to serve his clients with professional case management for individual
needs like addiction, HIV/AIDS infection or mental illness, the center
needs a budget of $300,000.

The struggle comes back to Whitaker to make ends meet for the organization.

"We should have separate case managers," said Sandy Michael, the executive
assistant at the Nia center. She is the only case manager, in addition to
coordinating outreach activities and contacting agencies and foundations
for help with the center's fund-raising plan.

But Whitaker keeps his options open. He said he's working closely with
local organizations to raise the money he needs to stay afloat. He's also
in the process of writing a grant proposal to the U.S. Department of
Housing and Urban Development for Nia's housing program.

This year, the center received $25,000 from the Guilford County budget via
Commissioner Bruce Davis.

Whitaker applied for another $25,000 grant from the county for the next two
consecutive years.

That Davis wrote a check to Nia and other organizations without board
approval has some commissioners questioning the policy for securing grants
to individual constituents.

The debate started after Davis wrote a $25,000 check to the North Carolina
Shakespeare Festival in February.

Commissioner Steve Arnold said he disagrees with the way Nia is using
taxpayer's money. Since the houses Whitaker owns are in his name, the money
can be used for his own property management and utility expenses, not under
the name of the Nia foundation.

"We haven't found out where the money is going," Arnold said. "It's
precisely these kinds of concerns that are minimized by a board discussion
through a normal vote, which did not occur. It lends itself to potential
problems and accusations."

One accusation centers on whether Davis has family or friendship ties to
those he has assisted with county grants. When the debate started with
commissioners, Arnold said he heard Davis mention that some of the
recipients were family members.

Davis has not confirmed or denied his relationship to Whitaker. He was out
of town Thursday and couldn't be reached for comment.

Whitaker, however, found it almost amusing when he started to receive calls
inquiring about a possible family relation to Davis.

"I don't know who thought of that. We were both in the Marine Corps, but
that's it," Whitaker said.