Iziek’s story is one of resilience, determination, and hope. As the third of ten children, his early years were marked by instability, including time spent in foster care. He dreamed of serving in the military, but scoliosis and Crohn’s disease made that impossible. Undeterred, he found another way to serve—through Job Corps and AmeriCorps, where he dedicated himself to rebuilding communities and helping those in need.
Iziek’s service took him across the country, from disaster recovery efforts after the 2015 California wildfires to distributing food at pantries and assisting with the Special Olympics. But when the COVID-19 pandemic struck, he was sent back to Ohio with no home to return to. He spent months sleeping in Franklin Park, rolling up his tent each morning and stashing it under a bridge before walking four miles to the Free Store for clothing and Open Shelter for food. He wore a suit and tie from the Free Store because he noticed people treated him with more respect. He learned where to charge his phone, where to find meals, and, when temperatures dropped, he kept moving—walking all night just to stay warm.
One day, at the Open Shelter, a specialist from Mt. Carmel learned about his medical concerns and connected him with Community Housing Network (CHN). In January 2024, Iziek moved into his own apartment—a place where he finally feels like a stable adult.
In addition to scoliosis and Crohn’s, Iziek lives with autism, ADHD, and PTSD. He says it can be hard to navigate life with invisible disabilities, especially as a young person, because people judge what they can’t see. But in his CHN home, he doesn’t have to worry about rent hanging over his head or being treated as “less than” because of his disabilities. The building staff is supportive, though trusting people remains a challenge—an understandable response to a childhood where authority figures didn’t always provide the help they should have.
Despite everything, Iziek remains hopeful. He nurtures a peace lily, dreams of getting a support animal, and continues to learn and grow. He reads, draws, and plays a guitar that was donated to him. He’s also a talented dancer.
Iziek refuses to be defined by his past or his health challenges. “I am more than my health; more than my skin; more than my body; more than my past; more than my present; and more than my mistakes,” he says. He looks forward to getting older, stronger, healthier, and expanding his knowledge.
His journey is far from over, but today, Iziek is standing tall—with a home, with hope, and with the resilience that has carried him this far.
