Breaking the Chains: From Harlem to Hope

My name is Guy Fisher, and it’s an honor to stand before you as a graduate of Ready, Willing & Able.

We are here today to remember Mama, April Savino, and the countless lives lost while experiencing homelessness. But we’re also here to celebrate those who have overcome homelessness, addiction, and incarceration… who prove that there is hope. I am proud to be one of thousands of those people.

None of us here knew Mama — this year marks the 38th since her passing. And those who knew her didn’t even know her real name. But it’s easy for many of us to imagine what her life was like, because we’ve lived some version of it ourselves.

For me, well… for many years I thought of myself as a product of my circumstances. I grew up poor in Harlem. My parents were both users, and my father was a seller, too. To survive in that environment, you have to do certain things, act a certain way… be a certain person, even if it isn’t who you really are.

For years, I was stuck in a cycle of getting high, selling drugs, and going to prison. I did six different bids and was never out for more than a year between them. Before joining The Doe Fund, my last one was seven years. Eventually, it got to the point where I thought prison was the only place I belonged. 

I was frustrated. For as long as I could remember, all I did was mess up every good thing in my life. Then one day, I had an epiphany: I didn’t have to live this lifestyle. 

Yes, the deck was stacked against people like you and me from the start. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have the power to change it. I realized that I had never even tried. I blindly accepted that I was a product of my circumstances. But your past does not dictate who you are.

So I came to The Doe Fund when I was released, joined Ready, Willing & Able, and finally started to get my life together. 

I won’t lie, there were times when I had my doubts. But as time went on, I began to understand just how much Ready, Willing & Able offers. I learned that pushing that bucket wasn’t just about pushing the bucket. It taught me patience and endurance. It taught me to do the right thing. It taught me to trust in others. And it taught me how to create a vision for myself. 

You see, before joining the program, I never stuck with anything long enough to make good happen out of it. I didn’t have any vision of the man I could become, or how I could become him. 

I remember the moment when that all changed. I was in my bed at the transitional residence, looking up at the ceiling. Then that negative voice in my head, the one folks like me know all too well, started talking: “You’re a Harlem dude at heart. What are you doing here in a shelter? What are you doing trying to better your life? You belong on the streets. Get back out there and chase that Harlem dream again.” 

By then, I knew that the “Harlem dream” was a nightmare. So I don’t know why I did it — I felt like I was in a trance — but I took the #10 bus to my old digs and prayed that the Lord would give me a sign to come back to The Doe Fund. A sign that I was on the right path after all.

I walked and walked and walked through Harlem… until I happened to run into the woman who ran NA meetings at the transitional residence. She asked me, “Guy, what are you doing out here?”

I told her, “Miss… I don’t know.” 

She asked me, “Are you sober? Is your head right?”

I told her, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s get you on the bus home,” she said. And she led me back like a sheep that had lost its flock. I found my sign.

From then on, I surrounded myself with mentors at Ready, Willing & Able — people who had overcome the same things I was going through. I listened to their advice and I applied it. I had a vision of the man I could become, and a path to achieve it.

There was Mr. Terrance Coffie, who helped me write my first resumé… when I realized that you’ll never get anywhere in life if you’re just spinning your wheels waiting for something to happen. There were so many others, like Mr. Donald Pendleton, Mr. William Glenn, and Mr. Nazarene Griffin to name a few. I just took those examples and held onto them for dear life. 

Now, I’m married and I’ve been employed at the same job for seven years. I never worked a job for longer than three months before The Doe Fund. 

I’ve left my old life behind, and I found a new one with my family and with God, who gave me the strength to keep going in my lowest moments. 

Since graduating I’ve strengthened my spirituality and, most importantly, my relationship with my son.

So to all of you here today in Ready, Willing & Able, I want to tell you that it’s possible. If you take the lessons, if you listen, if you have a vision for yourself, and if you stick with it… you will succeed. 

When you’re homeless, it’s easy to think that you’re invisible, that you’re all alone, that everything is hopeless. I used to think that too. But that’s just plain wrong.

Your potential is limitless. Don’t let Mama’s death or April’s death be for nothing. Don’t let the past define your present. Don’t let all the hardship you’ve endured be for nothing. Don’t let that negative voice in your head hold you back. Take this gift of opportunity and show the world what you’re capable of. Thank you for your time, and Happy Holidays!