Designed to Transform

By Diana Budds

Kevin Langehennig remembers when he first stepped onto the grounds of Haven for Hope in San Antonio.

“I just was overwhelmed,” recalls Langehennig, who was homeless and recovering from substance use. In addition to emergency shelter, Haven for Hope offered transitional housing plus ample supportive services, from counseling to healthcare. “I couldn’t believe that all these people were coming to help somebody like me.”

The experimental project opened in 2010 with a profound goal: to end homelessness in the city. Langehennig thought the grounds resembled a bustling university, which in many ways they do. The 22-acre campus is composed of over a dozen fully modernized buildings oriented around a grassy courtyard where children play. Other spaces include a chapel near the center of campus, a food bank, a kennel where clients can safely keep their pets, and a salon for haircuts. With staff from nearly 80 organizations providing services and cheerful volunteers buzzing around, it was uplifting and looked nothing like the institutional settings Langehennig was accustomed to. And he liked it so much he never left. After spending two years rebuilding his life through counseling, education and job training programs at Haven for Hope, he joined the organization as a peer support specialist. For the past 12 years, he has helped clients on their own journeys to recovery.

Langehennig is just one of many success stories. Since opening, the organization has served over 50,000 people and shelters 85 percent of the city’s homeless population on a given night. But it isn’t just a shelter. Haven’s ultimate ambition is for clients to eventually find and maintain permanent homes. According to a recent study, 92 percent of clients who have graduated from its program into permanent housing remained housed a year later. Meanwhile, Haven estimates that it has provided San Antonio $42 worth of benefits for every dollar it spends, due to reduced crime, fewer unpaid medical bills at local hospitals and workforce training. Because of this, it has become a nationally recognized model for how cities can address challenges related to homelessness and behavioral health, and continues to influence forward-thinking projects across the country — including those at LPA, which helped bring Haven for Hope to life alongside architect of record and design architect Overland Partners a decade and a half ago.

Designing Beyond “Basic Necessity”

It all hinges on building a space of compassion. Instead of constructing a bare-bones hub to warehouse people, which is the modus operandi of many shelters, the city, in partnership with private organizations and philanthropy, developed a space to transform lives.

“Anytime that we can make architecture that uplifts rather than just provides basic necessity, I think we’re succeeding at a higher level,” says Mark Oppelt, a retired LPA principal who worked on the project. “It’s not just making a pretty place for people to go, but helping them really heal in whatever ways they need.”

There’s an understanding among social workers that no two people experiencing homelessness share the same circumstances. They could be dealing with unemployment, domestic violence, substance abuse, mental health disorders, rising housing costs or any permutation of the overlapping systemic issues that make homelessness one of the most persistent and intractable problems across the country. Yet the way most cities address the issue doesn’t typically make room for that nuance.

The various organizations and government agencies addressing homelessness generally remain siloed — one place for emergency shelter, another for mental health services, another for counseling — which dampens their effects. The needs of institutions are prioritized over the needs of individuals, says Mary Theroux, producer of the documentary Beyond Homeless, which featured Haven for Hope. “Between nonprofits, there’s resistance to working together because people think they’re going to lose their funding or their autonomy or something,” says Theroux, who is also chief executive officer of the Independent Institute, a California think tank. “They do not talk to each other. They do not cooperate. They’re very turf protective.”

Human beings don’t adhere to institutions’ jurisdictional boundaries, of course. Haven for Hope recognized that services need to meet the individual, not the other way around. “In the old models, and sometimes still today, if you go to the center of downtown, find the most dilapidated building, you’ve probably found the emergency shelter,” says Scott Ackerson, a licensed social worker and the former vice president of transformational services at Haven for Hope. “Our response in the United States to shelter was ‘let’s find a subpar building, stick as many bunk beds as we can in that building.’ It gets somebody off the street, but it really doesn’t help them change their life.”

At a time when cities were losing money for emergency shelters, Haven for Hope was an anomaly because it represented investment in everything — by design. “From what I can tell, San Antonio was not only the only city that didn’t downsize, but built an emergency shelter on steroids,” Ackerson says.

The exact combination of programs and services at Haven has evolved with the times, but the heart of its philosophy has remained consistent: Center the human being, tailor a trauma-informed plan specifically for them, and make it easy for someone to follow through.

To that end, Haven offers nearly everything a client needs within its campus, for practical and philosophical reasons. Logistically, it’s easier for clients to receive services in one place instead of spending hours traveling from one to another. And from the client perspective, seeing peers progress in their recovery path is a powerful example of how change is possible. But designing the single hub where that toolkit could spring to life was easier said than done.

Solving a “Jigsaw Puzzle”

Haven for Hope presented a complex series of design challenges. First, no precedent for this type of campus existed. Second, the programmatic elements needed to accommodate dozens and dozens of partner organizations and beds for 1,000 people. Third, the location, a derelict industrial site composed mostly of warehouses built in the 1920s and 1930s, required extensive architectural retrofits and infrastructure overhauls, down to the 80-year-old water mains that serviced the campus. And lastly, the budget was limited, and city officials wanted to fast-track construction.

Oppelt describes the project — about 500,000 square feet of interior space that included 300,000 square feet of renovations — as both a “jigsaw puzzle” and “a minefield of problems,” but the team leaned on their expertise in mixed-use projects and large-scale educational campuses to allocate the right programmatic mix across the buildings. “Fortunately, we had a great group of designers,” he says.

Working as a consultant to Overland Partners, LPA was responsible for ensuring all the exterior envelopes of the former industrial park buildings were made weather-resistant, brought up to current codes and renovated so they could be repurposed into safe shelters.

Once the master plan was complete, LPA determined which building systems and construction strategies would be most cost-effective, and managed the budget, while Overland Partners focused on design. With large-scale adaptive reuse projects like this one, determining the optimal use for each structure is an artform, a functional and technical challenge.

“Every building we renovated had a different character,” Oppelt says. “What’s the best system for this building to make sure it’s going to work? Do we put the installation on top of the roof, or do we try to hang it underneath? Should this be a chilled water system for a whole campus, or is it too complicated for their staff to maintain? Should it be rooftop air-conditioning units?”

The architects also met with many of the organizations that would ultimately operate from Haven for Hope to better understand the types of spaces the campus required. In order to serve so many different constituents, the team planned different access points to the campus and emphasized physical separation between them when they could, as opposed to offering a blanket housing solution with everyone together. Individuals with high-support needs, like chronically homeless clients in active addiction, had a separate entrance on the south side of campus, across from the central campus and families and children.

Multiple landscaped open spaces became another important feature, encouraging clients to socialize but also providing places for children to play and adults to relax. The team was able to integrate these spaces into the campus by selectively demolishing structures that were not needed or were simply too expensive to rehabilitate. Communities require public commons, and these outdoor areas become them.

Speaking with Haven for Hope’s clients informed the design, too. That aforementioned kennel? The architects learned that having to surrender pets and belongings prevented some from seeking help, so they integrated facilities that let clients hold on to what was important.

Crucially, the campus was also designed to be flexible enough to adapt as leadership developed new programs and best practices. When Ackerson joined Haven, he started an in-house addiction recovery program with a separate dormitory so people who had detoxed and wanted to get sober would not be required to share congregate sleeping space with clients who were still using. Meanwhile, a chapel constructed at the center of the campus became a critical multipurpose room. “You have to have space for therapy, journaling, yoga, storytelling and activities that help people overcome their trauma,” Ackerson says. “And when we focus so much on maximizing the beds and storage, we really lose that space.”

Architecture as Community

The scale and ambition of Haven for Hope drew skepticism when it was completed. But 15 years later, its collaborative model has proven itself and has since become a reference point for other cities, organizations and leaders fighting homelessness. Mary Theroux is one of them. She recently led a delegation of over 50 civic leaders from the San Francisco Bay Area on a tour of the campus. “The key thing about Haven is that every sector of the community was involved both in its development and ongoing operations,” Theroux says. “You have a thousand volunteers on campus every month, so the community feels a real ownership and connection with it.”

Ackerson echoes the sentiment. “When cities visit Haven for Hope, they’ll say, ‘We want a campus like this,’ without understanding it’s more than just a campus,” he notes, adding that Haven always felt like a small town to him. “One of the biggest reasons for the success is really the architecture leading to a feeling of community, and nurturing the ability to form relationships and then help people through their issues.” A systemic problem requires a systemic solution, and the campus helped rewire how organizations worked together.

Today, other cities are building on Haven for Hope’s work via mixed-use developments that address social issues in communities. In January, Las Vegas released a master plan for a homeless shelter inspired by the campus. Theroux is currently exploring a campus-based approach to support youth between the ages of 18 and 24 in Oakland, California, who need workforce development or are at risk of becoming homeless. LPA is working on numerous behavioral health and social-impact projects that are informed by Haven (see below).

“Most cities and counties are waking up to the fact that the homeless crisis involves an all-hands-on-deck approach,” says Matthew Winter, Director of Mixed Use at LPA. “It involves wraparound services, which is not just about having all the parts and pieces; it’s about having a directional path. Haven for Hope is the originator of that idea.”

The lasting lesson of Haven for Hope is that when people feel safe, comfortable and respected, they’re more likely to seek help and remain committed to following through. “We recognized that, first of all, homeless people need to be humanized, and we need to care for more than just their physical needs,” Oppelt says. “We have to care for their mental and spiritual needs, too.”

Haven for Hope continues to inform how cities and counties address social and behavioral health issues. Matthew Winter, Director of Mixed Use at LPA Design Studios, experienced the facility on an Urban Vision Alliance trip with various officials, and saw how its impact connects to LPA’s work today.

“The DNA flows across time to all these projects,” he says.

The following all have distinct identities that carry forward lessons from Haven for Hope and other critical hubs, and LPA designed them to cater to each client’s unique mission. “We look at them from a place of care first,” Winter adds. “Our skillset is figuring out how to put the puzzle pieces together.”

Once complete, this 30-unit mixed-use Silicon Valley project will provide transitional housing for up to 120 people experiencing homelessness. Each of the 30 units is designed for families and features three bedrooms, a private bathroom and a kitchenette.

LifeMoves Benton helps clients by offering wraparound services and residential space in a campus setting. There’s a daycare. Counseling. A market to combat food insecurity, centrally located and accessible to all. A cafeteria. Laundry, storage, classrooms — all resources designed to help residents get back on their feet in one singular location. And all lessons from Haven for Hope’s precedent.

“Bringing a large consortium of public agencies and nonprofits together into one central hub is critical,” Winter says. “When all of these services are available on one campus, it magnifies the power of the entire facility at large.”

LPA further designed the 1.3-acre site to feel welcoming through features like a shared garden, a courtyard with an amphitheater, a river trail, a dog park and even rooftop amenities and social spaces to encourage community building.

Ten different organizations in San Bernardino County came together to create this 6.8-acre project, which includes 58 units of permanent supportive housing, a 32-bed substance use treatment facility and 32 recuperative care units.

In order to best support recovery and wellness, the design team focused on creating a cohesive campus. With so many agencies and programmatic requirements in play, Haven for Hope offered a medley of lessons in how to balance and sync everything together. For instance, one population doesn’t have dogs, but another does — and if there are no accommodations for pets, you lose an entire clientele base. So strategic planning and design was paramount.

As with Haven for Hope, the project called upon LPA’s multidisciplinary expertise to program a mixed-use site plan with outdoor spaces — like landscaped courtyards, multipurpose lawns and a dog run — providing a natural separation between various constituents, while offering intentional gathering hubs.

“With so many stakeholders and funding sources at play, strategy was key in arriving at a singular holistic vision that manages to serve each population equally,” Winter says.

This renovation of a colonial, mission-style campus from the 1930s involved the adaptive reuse of a 26,000-square-foot building and the construction of a new 33,000-square-foot structure. Originally built as a home for boys, the original site evolved into a residential substance abuse treatment center for uninsured men in 1963. With LPA’s renovation, Lifetime expanded its treatment services to include women and managed-care clients.

The team situated the new structure so that it forms a central outdoor commons with the existing historic building, and Lifetime Recovery’s amenities build on the power of the wraparound services model, featuring housing, counseling, dining, food service, administration, recreation and detox.

“Like Haven for Hope, it’s all about transformation,” Winter says, “and thoughtful design facilitates that.”

Determining appropriate access paths, elevator access and entrances to the various spaces was critical to the project. Meanwhile, energy efficiency, respecting the local vernacular and creating access to nature informed the design. The outdoors serves as a venue for counseling and reflective encounters, in addition to encouraging movement and exercise with features like a jogging path.

Residential buildings were also added so that clients are no longer required to sleep in communal spaces, but have individual rooms for reflection and healing, since every recovery journey is unique.

In order to help the formerly incarcerated successfully transition back into their communities, Orange County is building a new 4.6-acre workforce housing and training campus. It will primarily serve post-custody, vocational-ready adults on a voluntary basis, while remaining open to all justice-involved individuals (those who have spent time within the system).

A combination of residential spaces and services will exist on site, demonstrating how a mixed-use approach is applicable to social challenges beyond homelessness — in this case, easing reentry and reducing recidivism.

“At Haven for Hope, the ethos was to try as many things as possible to see what works and what doesn’t in tackling critical problems,” Winter says. “Those lessons have permeated across America.”

To that end, Common Good will feature training kitchens; a bakery, bistro counter and retail stalls that are open to the public; a fitness/wellness studio; and a pet training/grooming facility.

The Orange County–led initiative was developed in coordination with Griffin/Swinerton and Hub for Integration, Reentry & Employment (HIRE) — and like so many of the projects featured in this article, it showcases the power of a collaborative approach when tackling some of the biggest challenges today. Common Good, indeed.

Diana Budds is a writer who covers design, culture and the built environment. Her writing has appeared in Architectural Digest, The New York Times, Metropolis, Wallpaper, Curbed and many other outlets.