The Power of Housing

Northwest Michigan Supportive Housing’s 30-year role in our community

By Lourin Sprenger | Oct. 11, 2025

When the doors of the Traverse City State Hospital closed more than three decades ago, many of its live-in residents were left without stable housing or the support they needed to survive independently. Out of that void came the organization now known as Northwest Michigan Supportive Housing (NMSH), which has spent 30 years ensuring that some of the region’s most vulnerable residents have a place to call home.

The mission is simple in words but complex in practice: housing first, with wraparound support. And while NMSH’s approach has proven effective, the stigma surrounding homelessness remains one of the greatest barriers.

“People often think homelessness is a choice, or the result of laziness,” says volunteer Peggy Miller. “But when you sit with someone and hear what they’ve survived—trauma, job loss, generational poverty, health challenges—you realize it’s not about choices. It’s about circumstances and whether a community chooses to help.”

Laying the Foundation

Miller became involved with NMSH more than five years ago, during the height of the pandemic. For her, volunteering quickly became more than an activity; it became a calling. She still remembers the first time she sat down with a resident. She thought she was there to offer support, but instead, she walked away with a new perspective.

“I’ve learned more about resilience here than anywhere else,” Miller says. “When someone who has spent years without a stable home looks you in the eye and says, ‘This is the first place I feel safe,’ you realize how powerful housing is. It’s dignity, stability, a chance to breathe.”

For Miller, the impact of NMSH’s work is measured in small, human moments: a resident sharing a meal in their own kitchen, another celebrating the first time they could pay rent on time, or simply hearing someone laugh in a place they can finally call theirs.

“I’ve come to realize that home isn’t just a structure,” she says. “It’s a foundation for everything else. Without it, how do you apply for a job? How do you get your kids to school? How do you heal?”

How It Works

That philosophy is the backbone of supportive housing. At NMSH, residents pay 30 percent of their income toward rent, while the nonprofit covers the remainder. But the keys to the apartment are just the beginning. Case managers—only four of them serving about 150 individuals across 80 households—work daily to help clients pay bills, find doctors, secure jobs, and build basic life skills.

“We’re not just giving them keys—we’re teaching life skills,” says Becca Binder, executive director of NMSH. “A lot of people don’t realize, but many of our younger clients don’t know how to clean, cook, or do laundry. They grew up in unstable housing themselves. For them, success is learning routines that most of us take for granted.”

This individualized support is what makes the model sustainable. Unlike shelters, which provide short-term relief, NMSH offers permanent supportive housing—and the results prove it works.

“A lot of people assume the solution is shelters,” Binder said. “But the reality is, the solution is permanent housing. It works, and the data supports it.”

Success Stories

NMSH reports a 96 percent retention rate, meaning nearly all clients remain housed year after year. Behind that statistic are deeply human stories.

One man, after years of cycling between homelessness and short-term housing, arrived in Traverse City feeling defeated. With the support of a case manager, he stabilized and eventually requested a transfer back to Kalkaska County so he could reconnect with his longtime behavioral health team.

“That level of self-awareness and advocacy is incredible,” Binder says. “When we first met him, he couldn’t have voiced that. It shows how stability creates growth.”

Another client, a young mother, came to NMSH after years of moving between unsafe living situations. With housing secured, she began focusing on parenting, learning how to budget and cook, and most importantly, keeping her children in one school district.

“Having that consistency for her kids was a turning point,” Binder recalls. “For her, home meant the ability to finally be the mom she wanted to be. Watching that transformation was one of the most powerful things I’ve witnessed.”

Funding Roadblocks

But stability remains fragile. Rising rental costs across northern Michigan have made it increasingly difficult to secure affordable units. Most of NMSH’s budget comes from federal HUD funding, but case management—often the deciding factor between success and failure—relies on state grants and community philanthropy.

“We’re always looking for landlords willing to partner,” Binder says. “We might have funding ready for a client, but no unit within HUD’s rent cap. That’s heartbreaking, because the need is here. We just need more doors to open.”

Miller has seen firsthand how that shortage creates roadblocks. “It’s heartbreaking to see someone finally ready for housing—mentally, emotionally, financially—and then have to wait because there isn’t an apartment available,” she says. “When you know the difference a safe space can make, those delays feel cruel.”

Still, both Binder and Miller find hope in the work. For every challenge, there is a story of resilience: a client reconnecting with family, another enrolling in school, a household celebrating the stability that allows them to stay together.

“What NMSH does is simple at its core—they give people a home. But the ripple effect is enormous,” Miller concludes. “I’ve watched people grow into themselves once they have stability. You see shoulders relax, eyes brighten, and plans start to form. It’s more than four walls. It’s the chance to start again, to feel like you belong. NMSH makes that possible—and it changes everything.”

Learn more about Northwest Michigan Supportive Housing at nmshousing.org.