Living on the Edge: What Happens If Affordable Housing Disappears?

Why I’m Writing This

This is an issue very near and dear to my heart.

My fiancé and I are both directly affected by the challenges of finding and maintaining affordable housing, and we have close friends—many of them seniors or people with disabilities—who are also deeply impacted by it.

For a long time, I didn’t want to believe that subsidized housing could really be under threat. I thought maybe it was an exaggeration, or that the programs would always be there in some form. But after hearing more and more talk about cuts, I decided to do my own research. And what I found out shocked and worried me.

This isn’t just about politics or funding—it’s about people. It’s about real lives, and real consequences. That’s why I’m writing this post. I want to share what I’ve learned and experienced, not just for myself, but for everyone who relies on subsidized housing to have a safe, stable place to live. Whether you live in it yourself, or you love someone who does, this is something we all need to keep a close eye on and be ready to speak out for.

To understand why this issue matters so much to me, I want to start by sharing a little of my personal story—beginning with how my education and early life shaped my path toward needing affordable housing.

Growing Up and Graduating Later

I graduated from high school two years later than most people, partly because I attended the Michigan School for the Blind in Lansing, the state capital. I was there from age 13 to 17. At the time, we lived first in Byron, Michigan, and later in Cohoctah—a small rural township near Howell.

By then, the school had already begun to decline. Most blind and visually impaired students in Michigan were being mainstreamed into public schools, so the student population was small.

There were only four of us girls who were blind without any additional major disabilities. I shared a dorm, Chippewa Hall, with my roommate, who was multiply impaired—she was blind and had cognitive delays. She was sweet and able to talk and interact, but she didn’t attend regular classes. Our academic programs took place in different buildings.

We stayed at the school during the week and went home on weekends. Unlike in earlier decades, the school no longer kept students on-site over the weekend.

Because of the slower academic pace, I graduated late. But that’s not uncommon for blind or disabled students. In fact, my fiancé, Josh, also graduated two years later than average. It’s something many people don’t talk about, but it’s very real for those of us with disabilities.

After leaving the Blind School, I attended Howell High School from 10th grade through graduation and earned my diploma at age 20. I didn’t move out on my own until I was 21, when my family and I started looking for housing options.

Returning to Flint and Finding Stability

After leaving Kalamazoo, I returned to Flint, Michigan—a place where I was born and where much of my extended family still lived. I bought a home using an FHA mortgage, which was a big step for me at the time. My friend Greg, who had moved with me from Kalamazoo, continued living with me there.

We shared the house for about 11 years, splitting the bills and helping each other with everyday life. It was a good arrangement, especially for two people living on limited incomes. At that point in my life, I wasn’t living in subsidized housing, but owning a home brought its own set of challenges, especially as the Flint area was going through a period of economic decline and instability. Still, it was a time of relative stability for me personally.

Florida, Arizona, and Back Again

After living in Flint for over a decade, Greg and I made the decision to move to Florida. We both got apartments at New Horizons Apartments, a subsidized housing complex in North Tampa. I lived there for seven years. It was a big change, but the weather and slower pace were appealing, and it was a fresh start.

Eventually, I moved again—this time to Arizona. When I first arrived, I stayed with friends in Glendale. Later, I moved into Desert Sol Apartments in Phoenix, which is a low-income housing complex specifically designed for blind residents. I shared an apartment there with my friend Leslie for about eight months. After that, I moved back in with my friends in Glendale, where I had originally stayed. Both times I lived with them, it was in Glendale, not Phoenix.

In total, I lived in Arizona for two years, from April 2018 to June 2020. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get housing of my own during that time, even though I was on several waiting lists. As much as I loved Arizona—and I really did—I eventually had to move back to Florida because I couldn’t find stable, affordable housing there. I returned to New Horizons and lived there again for just over a year.

In 2021, I moved in with my parents for about six months while figuring out my next steps.

Back Home in Michigan

In 2022, I moved back to Michigan and settled in Traverse City, where I currently live. I now reside at Oak Terrace Apartments, a subsidized housing complex located in Garfield Township. After all the places I’ve lived and all the different types of housing I’ve experienced, this one has felt the most like home.

If I’m counting correctly, I’ve lived in four different subsidized housing complexes across several states over the nearly 32 years I’ve been on my own. Each one has shaped my understanding of what affordable housing means—not just in terms of cost, but in terms of stability, accessibility, and peace of mind.

Reflecting on My Journey

If you’ve ever had experiences like these—graduating later due to disability, living in subsidized housing in multiple states, or navigating the system while blind or visually impaired—I’d love to hear from you. You’re not alone.

And if this is new to you, thank you for reading and taking the time to learn more about what these paths can look like. It means a lot to those of us who’ve lived it—and continue to live it every day.

Josh’s Journey Through Housing

My fiancé Josh has had a more complicated housing journey than I have, and it really shows why affordable housing is so important—especially for people with disabilities.

Back in 1996, Josh moved into a subsidized housing complex in Atlanta, Georgia called Briarcliff Summit. It was one of those “30% of your income” programs—possibly HUD-supported. He lived there from March 1, 1996 to December 1, 1997 and loved being in the city. Atlanta gave him a sense of independence and access to public transit through MARTA (Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority), which helped him get around easily without driving.

But after a while, he was offered a job at Kroger in Lawrenceville, Georgia, and had to choose: stay in Atlanta without a job, or take the job and move back in with his mom—because there was no subsidized housing available in Lawrenceville. He chose the job.

A Memory for Details

Before I continue, I want to highlight something amazing about Josh. He has an incredible memory for dates. He can tell you not only the exact date something happened, but also what day of the week it was—and even which song was playing at the time. His family often relies on him for that kind of information.

That’s why I can include specific dates in this post—he remembers them all. It’s rare, and pretty impressive!

Back to Florida

Josh originally moved from Sarasota, Florida to Georgia on August 14, 1994. He was 20 at the time and would turn 21 that October. He had been living with his dad in a place called Stetmont, and then moved in with his mom. After his time in Atlanta and Lawrenceville, he and his mom moved back to Sarasota on June 21, 1999.

When they returned, Josh’s mom moved in with his brother, but Josh had nowhere to go. He moved in temporarily with a friend, her fiancé, and her two children. It wasn’t ideal, but when you’re on a limited income, you live where you can.

After that, he moved back in with his mom on August 22, 1999, and stayed there until February 9, 2000. He then returned to stay with the same friend for a few more months until he got a spot at Orchard Place, a subsidized housing complex in Sarasota. That was one of the more stable times in his life.

Employment and Independence

In March 2005, Josh got a job at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, contracted through the Tampa Lighthouse for the Blind. He helped military personnel overseas access calling cards to stay in touch with their families.

At first, he lived on his own, from March 2005 until October 2006. Then, his roommate Bobby moved in. They lived together until September 2007, when Bobby got into a relationship and moved into a different apartment. Josh continued living in their shared unit alone, but by December 2007, Bobby had stopped contributing financially, and Josh could no longer afford it.

So Josh moved out and found a smaller, more affordable apartment—but eventually, after several transitions, he ended up moving back into the original complex where he had lived when he first arrived in Tampa. That full-circle moment gave him some peace of mind, at least temporarily.

Job Loss and Housing Instability

In July 2010, Tampa Lighthouse lost its contract with MacDill, and Josh lost his job. By August 2010, he had no choice but to move back to Sarasota. He moved in with his dad and stepmom, because he had no other housing options. Imagine if he hadn’t had family—he would have had nowhere to go. Waiting lists for subsidized housing can be more than a year long in many places.

Thankfully, he and his mom were able to move into Beneva Oaks, another subsidized housing complex. Still, Josh often says he wishes he had tried to find a way to stay in Tampa. His church may have been able to help with rent for a little while, but not indefinitely.

Trying Again—and Facing the Same Problems

Josh started working at Hoveround, a wheelchair company, on September 26, 2011. He and his then-fiancée moved into Strathmore Garden Apartments in January 2012, and later to Ridge Gardens in March 2014.

But in April 2015, Josh was laid off from Hoveround due to downsizing. Suddenly, their financial situation changed. His fiancée at the time moved out in February 2017, and he was unable to keep up with the rent alone. He had another roommate briefly, but that arrangement didn’t last either.

Without enough income to qualify for market-rate housing and with no immediate subsidized options available, he had no choice but to move back in with his dad and stepmom. Again, imagine if he hadn’t had that option—what would have happened?

Eventually, Josh did get back into Orchard Place, the same subsidized complex he’d lived in years earlier. He stayed there until he moved here to Traverse City with me on May 26, 2023.

Availability and Location: The Other Challenge

I consider myself pretty lucky when it comes to wait times for affordable housing. When I applied to Skyrise Apartments in Kalamazoo in late 1992, I got in within six months.

But not every experience has been that smooth.

When we applied to New Horizons in Tampa, Florida, we had to stay with friends in Brandon for three months while waiting for a unit to open up. And even then, the tenants who were supposed to vacate didn’t move out on schedule. Altogether, it took over a year and a half before we were finally able to move in.

When I moved back to New Horizons after living in Arizona, I got in much faster. That was unusual. I think they remembered me and appreciated my good rental history. That probably helped.

When I applied to Oak Terrace Apartments here in Traverse City, it took about ten months. I applied in late July 2021, was notified in April 2022 that a unit was ready, and moved in by May. That’s actually not bad compared to other places.

For some people, the wait is far longer. In places like Los Angeles or New York City, the wait for subsidized housing can stretch to five or even eight years—or the lists may be closed altogether. If you’re on a fixed income or have a disability, those delays aren’t just inconvenient—they’re dangerous.

The Fragility of Relying on Subsidized Housing

As I’ve grown older, I’ve become increasingly aware of the precariousness of depending on government assistance for housing. In my younger years, it wasn’t a pressing concern, but over time, the thought of such support being withdrawn has been unsettling. Conversations with my mom have often revolved around the idea that owning a home might offer more stability. However, homeownership comes with its own set of challenges. When I owned a home in Flint, Michigan, the neighborhood’s decline, coupled with the city’s economic hardships, made the experience difficult. Maintenance costs can be burdensome, especially for those with limited income.

Consider the current rental market in Traverse City. As of April 2025, the average rent for a one-bedroom apartment is approximately $1,457 per month, while a two-bedroom averages around $1,779 per month. [Source] For individuals on fixed incomes, such as those receiving Supplemental Security Income (SSI), affording these rates is nearly impossible. In 2025, the federal poverty guideline for a single individual is $15,650 annually, and $21,150 for a two-person household. [Source]

Employment opportunities for individuals with disabilities remain limited. While recent data indicates that 52.3% of working-age individuals with visual impairments are employed, a significant portion remains unemployed or underemployed. [Source] This reality underscores the importance of accessible and affordable housing options for those who may face barriers in the job market.

Recent policy shifts have further threatened the stability of subsidized housing programs. The Trump administration has proposed substantial cuts to the Section 8 housing voucher program and other federal housing assistance initiatives. [Source] Additionally, a $1 billion program aimed at preserving affordable housing has been halted, jeopardizing the maintenance of tens of thousands of units for low-income Americans. [Source]

For individuals like Josh and me, the potential loss of subsidized housing would be devastating. While we might manage to find housing elsewhere, the financial strain would be immense. Many others, especially those without supportive family networks, would face homelessness. It’s crucial to recognize the vital role that government-assisted housing plays in providing stability for vulnerable populations.

“Not in My Neighborhood”: The Stigma Against Affordable Housing

Reflecting on my past residences, I was honestly shocked to learn just how high the crime rates were in the neighborhoods I once lived in. I always knew they weren’t the best areas, but seeing the actual statistics made it real in a whole new way.

When I lived in downtown Kalamazoo, I had a friend whose parents were hesitant to let her visit me because they believed the area was unsafe. While nothing bad ever happened to me directly, the data backs up those concerns. As of recent reports, Kalamazoo’s violent crime rate is more than double the national average, and residents face a 1 in 79 chance of becoming a victim of violent crime. [Source]

Later, when I lived at New Horizons Apartments on North 19th Street in Tampa, similar worries came up. Some acquaintances thought the area wasn’t safe, and again, the stats are sobering. The North Tampa area has a violent crime rate that’s 206% higher than the national average. [Source]

Despite those numbers, I was fortunate. I never personally experienced crime in either place. I lived cautiously and had a good support system. But learning those facts now really puts things into perspective—not everyone is so lucky.

In contrast, my current home at Oak Terrace Apartments in Garfield Township, Traverse City, Michigan, has been a totally different experience. This is a subsidized housing complex, and we live here using a USDA Rural Development Voucher. But you wouldn’t guess it by the neighborhood.

Traverse City’s crime rate is well below the national average, and Garfield Township is considered one of the safer parts of the area. [Source] Our apartment complex is surrounded by nice homes and condos, and when Josh and I walk our dogs, we’ve had great conversations with the neighbors. No one has ever treated us differently or made us feel like we didn’t belong. That’s rare for subsidized housing.

This kind of peaceful integration—where affordable housing coexists with market-rate homes—isn’t typical. In most places, subsidized housing is pushed to less desirable neighborhoods. That’s due to what’s known as the “Not In My Backyard” (NIMBY) mentality: people say they support affordable housing but don’t want it near them. They claim it lowers property values or increases crime.

But those beliefs don’t hold up. Multiple studies show that affordable housing does not reduce nearby property values. In fact, in some cases, it can actually increase them. [Source]

Political rhetoric can also feed this stigma. During Donald Trump’s first term in office, he made statements suggesting that homeless individuals and affordable housing hurt property values in places like Los Angeles and San Francisco. [Source] Those kinds of remarks reinforce negative stereotypes and make it even harder to build inclusive, supportive communities.

That’s why this part of my journey stands out. Here in Traverse City, the integration of affordable housing into a safe, welcoming neighborhood has been a breath of fresh air. It’s not just about housing—it’s about dignity, inclusion, and the belief that everyone deserves a safe place to call home.

Facing the Threats: The Future of Affordable Housing

When I discuss potential cuts to affordable housing programs with others, I often hear, “It won’t be that bad,” or “They’ll just reallocate the funds elsewhere.” But for individuals like Josh and me, living on limited incomes, we can’t afford to rely on such assumptions. It’s crucial to voice our concerns to our leaders and emphasize the real-world implications of these potential cuts.

Recently, a friend mentioned that President Trump aimed to eliminate some voucher programs. Initially, I was skeptical, but upon researching, I discovered that this concern was valid. The administration is considering significant reductions to the Section 8 housing voucher program, which assists millions of low-income households in affording rent. Such cuts could effectively dismantle a program that many, including myself, depend upon for stable housing. [Source]

One significant proposal under consideration is the shift of housing program responsibilities from the federal government to individual states. While this might seem like a viable solution, it’s essential to understand the challenges it presents. States vary widely in their capacity and commitment to affordable housing. Without consistent federal oversight and funding, disparities could widen, leaving vulnerable populations at greater risk.

Moreover, even if programs aren’t entirely eliminated, reduced funding can have detrimental effects. Maintenance and upkeep of affordable housing units are already under strain. Deferred maintenance due to budget constraints can lead to deteriorating living conditions, affecting the health and safety of residents. For instance, the Trump administration has halted a $1 billion program aimed at preserving affordable housing, threatening projects that keep tens of thousands of units livable for low-income Americans. [Source]

Additionally, cuts to federal programs can hinder the development of new affordable housing projects. Many of these initiatives rely on federal funding as seed money to attract private investments. Without this support, the construction of new units slows down, exacerbating the existing housing shortage.

In summary, the threats to affordable housing are multifaceted. Whether it’s the potential shift of responsibilities to states, reduced funding leading to poor maintenance, or the slowdown in new developments, the consequences are profound. It’s imperative to stay informed and advocate for policies that ensure safe and affordable housing for all.

How Needed Is Affordable Housing?

When people think about affordable housing, they often picture individuals experiencing homelessness. While that’s a significant concern, there’s a broader issue affecting many who have some income but still can’t afford regular housing. This includes people on fixed incomes like SSI, low-wage workers, and others in various challenging situations.

In Traverse City, Michigan, where I live, the cost of living is notably high. Despite this, efforts have been made to increase affordable housing. The Michigan State Housing Development Authority (MSHDA) has implemented a Statewide Housing Plan to address the state’s affordable housing crisis. This plan includes priorities and goals aimed at increasing housing stock and enhancing affordability across Michigan. [Source]

Nationally, the situation is even more pressing. According to the National Low Income Housing Coalition, the U.S. faces a shortage of 7.1 million affordable and available rental homes for extremely low-income renters. In Michigan alone, there are only 39 affordable and available rental homes for every 100 extremely low-income renter households, with 74% of these households experiencing severe cost burdens. [Source]

Some states are taking significant steps to address this crisis. For instance, Columbus, Ohio, has proposed a $500 million bond measure to tackle a 53,000-unit affordable housing deficit. The city aims to construct 200,000 housing units over the next decade to accommodate its growing population. [Source]

These efforts highlight the critical need for affordable housing solutions across the country. Without substantial investment and policy changes, many individuals and families will continue to struggle with housing insecurity.

The Crucial Role of Federal Support in Affordable Housing

While states like Michigan and Ohio are actively investing in affordable housing solutions, it’s important to recognize that not all states have the capacity to address this crisis independently. The disparity in resources and commitment levels across states means that federal support remains a cornerstone in the fight against housing insecurity.

For instance, states such as Nevada, Oregon, California, Arizona, and Texas have fewer than 30 affordable rental homes available for every 100 extremely low-income renters, with Nevada having just 17. These severe shortages highlight the limitations some states face in addressing affordable housing needs on their own. [Source]

Moreover, the federal government’s role extends beyond funding. It provides essential programs and incentives that many states rely on to bolster their housing initiatives. For example, the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit (LIHTC) program, administered federally, is a critical tool for encouraging private investment in affordable housing. Without such programs, many states would struggle to attract the necessary resources to develop and maintain affordable housing units.

As I was researching this, I saw that states like Arizona have significant issues with low-income housing. This didn’t surprise me, as I lived in Arizona from April 2018 to June 2020. During that time, I tried to secure housing and was actively involved with Ability360, an organization that assists people with disabilities. The staff there were incredibly supportive and tried to help me find housing. However, they informed me that housing options were extremely limited. Despite being on several waiting lists for the entire two years I lived there, I couldn’t secure housing. I loved living in Arizona, but ultimately, I had to leave because I couldn’t find a stable place to live.

In summary, while state-level efforts are vital and commendable, they cannot replace the scale and consistency of federal support. A collaborative approach, where federal and state governments work in tandem, is essential to effectively address the nation’s affordable housing crisis.

Affordable Housing: A Necessity for the Working Poor and Families

When discussing affordable housing, it’s crucial to recognize that it’s not solely a safety net for the unemployed or those on government assistance. Many individuals and families who are employed full-time still find themselves unable to afford housing. These are the working poor—people who are contributing to the economy but are priced out of the housing market.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, in 2020, 6.3 million individuals were among the “working poor,” defined as those who spent at least 27 weeks in the labor force but whose incomes still fell below the official poverty level. [Source]

These individuals often work in essential yet low-paying jobs such as cashiers, cooks, nursing aides, janitors, and retail salespersons. Despite their contributions, they struggle to make ends meet due to low wages and lack of benefits. [Source]

Families with children are particularly affected. The National Center for Children in Poverty reports that 38% of children in the U.S. live in low-income families, and 17% live in families that are considered poor. [Source] These families often face difficult choices between paying for housing, food, healthcare, and childcare.

Childcare expenses further exacerbate the issue. A study by the Center for American Progress found that among impoverished families with children under age 6 who pay for childcare, 35% were pushed into poverty by these expenses, totaling about 134,000 families per year. [Source]

Personal Reflection: I felt it was important to explore the challenges faced by working families and individuals with low incomes to highlight that affordable housing isn’t just about assisting those who are disabled or elderly. It’s also about supporting people who work hard every day. These individuals often hold essential jobs—like retail clerks, home health aides, or food service workers—that keep our communities running. Despite their efforts, they struggle to afford basic necessities, including housing. Recognizing their plight is crucial in understanding the broader need for affordable housing solutions.

The Hidden Struggles of Seniors in Subsidized Housing

Over the years, I’ve had a number of friends who were seniors living in subsidized housing. Each had their own story and circumstances, and a few became very close friends whose lives gave me a deeper understanding of how critical affordable housing can be for older adults.

My friend Janet became disabled in her 40s due to a brain tumor. At first, the doctors thought it was a minor cyst and that she would recover quickly. But once they operated, they discovered the tumor was more invasive than expected—with tentacle-like growths they hadn’t initially detected. She had been working hard and raising a child on her own, but after the surgery, her life changed dramatically. She could no longer work. By the time I met her in subsidized housing, she was in her 70s and didn’t have any family nearby who could help her. Housing assistance gave her stability she couldn’t have had otherwise.

Another friend of mine, Cindy, was a senior who had developed severe rheumatoid arthritis. She lived with friends for a while before getting her own subsidized apartment. Those arrangements weren’t always ideal, but she was grateful to have them at the time. Still, when she finally got a place of her own, she said it felt like she’d been given her independence back. She was proud of her home and deeply valued that autonomy. She’s since passed, but her story has always stayed with me.

These aren’t rare cases. According to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), seniors aged 62 and older now make up about 42% of all households in HUD-assisted housing—a significant increase from past years. [Source]

Most of these seniors live on fixed incomes like Social Security, which often fall short in covering rent, medical bills, and daily needs. Many also have mobility or health issues, making independent living more complicated and more expensive. Unfortunately, only about one-third of the seniors who qualify for housing assistance actually receive it. [Source]

These stories and statistics show that affordable housing is not just a matter of policy—it’s about dignity, independence, and security for people in their later years who’ve worked hard, faced health challenges, or simply outlived the support systems they once had.

Take Action: Protect Affordable Housing

It’s easy to close our eyes to something—especially when it seems far away or doesn’t affect us personally. But even when it does affect us, it can be hard to face. That was the case for me. A good friend of mine who also lives here in the same subsidized housing complex—he’s a senior—told me he’d heard the Trump administration wanted to cut housing vouchers. I didn’t want to believe it. I thought, “Surely that can’t be right.” I knew they were cutting other government programs, but I didn’t want to think they’d actually come for something this essential.

But a few days later, I realized I needed to check for myself. And when I did, I found out he was right—there are real threats to these programs. That discovery was one of the main reasons I wrote this post. I wanted others to know how serious this issue is and how deeply it affects people’s lives.

This isn’t just about statistics or policies; it’s about real people—families, seniors, individuals with disabilities, and people who work hard every day—who rely on affordable housing to live with dignity and security. For many, it’s a matter of survival.

If this issue resonates with you, I urge you to take action. Here’s how you can make your voice heard:

  • Contact Your Members of Congress: Let your representatives know you support affordable housing programs. You can find their contact information here: Find Your Representative and Contact Your Senators.
  • Use Advocacy Tools: Services like Resistbot make it easy to send letters or texts to lawmakers quickly.
  • Support Local Housing Organizations: In Michigan, the Michigan State Housing Development Authority (MSHDA) is a key resource. You can reach them here: MSHDA Contact Directory.
  • Stay Informed and Share: Educate yourself and others. The more people know, the more voices we can raise to protect what’s vital.

This is an issue that touches all of us, directly or indirectly. It’s not just a policy—it’s a lifeline. And it’s one worth fighting for.

Vicki Andrada's avatar

By Vicki Andrada

A Little About Me I was born on February 25, 1972, in Flint, Michigan, at McLaren Hospital. I lived in Michigan until I was almost 40, then moved to Tampa, Florida, where I stayed for seven years. After that, I relocated to Arizona, living with friends in Glendale and then in Phoenix for about eight months. I spent two years total in Arizona before returning to Florida for a little over a year. Eventually, I moved back to Michigan and stayed with my parents for six months. In May of 2022, I moved to Traverse City, Michigan, where I’ve been ever since—and I absolutely love it. I never expected to return to Michigan, but I’m so glad I did. I was born blind and see only light and shadows. My fiancé, Josh, is also blind. We both use guide dogs to navigate independently and safely. My current Leader Dog is Vicki Jo , a four-year-old Golden Retriever/Black Lab mix. She’s my fourth guide dog—my first two were Yellow Labs, and my last two have been Golden/Lab crosses. Josh’s guide dog, Lou, came from the same organization where I got my previous dog—now known as Guide Dogs Inc., formerly Southeastern Guide Dogs. Josh and I live together here in Traverse City, and we both sing in the choir at Mission Hill Church , which was previously known as First Congregational Church. A lot of people still know it by that name. We both really enjoy being part of the choir—it’s something that brings us a lot of joy. I also love to read, write, and listen to music—especially 60s, 70s, and 80s music. Josh and I enjoy listening to music together and watching movies, especially when descriptive video is available. We also like working out at the YMCA a couple of times a week, which has been great for both our physical and mental health. I’m a big fan of Major League Baseball. My favorite team is the Detroit Tigers, followed by the Tampa Bay Rays and the Colorado Rockies. In the NFL, I cheer for the Pittsburgh Steelers, Indianapolis Colts, and San Francisco 49ers—and I still have a soft spot for the Detroit Lions, especially now that they’ve started turning things around. I’m passionate about politics and history. I consider myself a progressive thinker, though I also try to take a balanced, middle-of-the-road approach. I’m a follower of Jesus Christ and a strong believer in respecting people of all faiths. I love learning about different religions, cultures, and belief systems. Writing is one of my biggest passions. I haven’t published anything yet, but I’ve written several books that are still in progress. Writing helps me express myself, explore new ideas, and connect with others through storytelling. Thanks for stopping by and getting to know a little about me.

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