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A Noteworthy 2025

December 19, 2025

“He’s psychotic. We can’t turn him away.”

There are many days where this work feels completely normal to me. Nothing particularly noteworthy happens as I go about my day in the Center. Patients make appointments, get seen by providers. Teeth get cleaned, cavities filled. Diseases get diagnosed, prescriptions get filled. Seeds get planted, produce grows. Fruits and vegetables go to the Market, shopping bags filled. People face challenges, we help them through. I actually consider this a tremendous blessing because it shows what’s possible when healthcare services are affordable and accessible to all. It doesn’t have to be dramatic or divisive, it can just be… normal.

However, this year I feel like I experienced a lot of more noteworthy days than in the past. The complex state of our nation and the seemingly daily changes and orders that trickled down into the lives of our staff, patients, and this organization required a level of quick responsiveness we haven’t needed in a while. And believe me, there’s nothing that happens at the federal level that doesn’t eventually land on the shoulders of the poor and marginalized. And if it affects our neighbors, it affects Good Sam.

I usually use these year-end blogs as a look back at all we have accomplished as an organization in 365 days. And I could certainly go on about the incredible success of opening up our fully operational satellite clinic at Restoration House and the 1000 unique patients we’ve seen there; or the beauty of our newly renovated front entrance and lobby and how we managed to stay open and serving patients throughout the entire construction process. I could exclaim the wonders of how we have managed to increase our total number of patient encounters by more than 12% over last year, providing quality care to more people in need! I could tell you of our responses to losing federal protections in case of ICE raids or when the government shut down and SNAP/EBT benefits paused for millions. But honestly, maybe in this year more than ever before, I think what we all need is a gospel reminder. The reminder that Jesus is near.

One challenging incident from this year, and the inspiration for this post, occurred when a man visited Good Sam, desperately seeking care and also outright refusing to adhere to our guidelines in order to receive it. He was angry, loud, and even violent. He threatened staff and other patients. Our guest services staff and security guard handled it graciously, but firmly. The man was told to leave and not return. A week later, he did return. His manner had calmed enough though that most staff didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t until he was headed toward the exam room that someone realized who it was and immediately came to find me. Emotions were running high, not just for the individual, but for the staff. Fear and fatigue had plagued our team much of the year to this point. Their reserves and seemingly endless grace frequently reached the dregs of what they could muster. I certainly did not blame them for their strong response to a man who had already threatened them being allowed to walk these sacred halls. I found Breanna and explained what was going on and that we needed to respond both with the individual and with the staff. That’s when she said “ultimately, he’s psychotic. We can’t turn him away.” I agreed and turned to go and talk with the staff members, while she went to speak with the patient. And in that instant, it hit me: where else in the world would those two sentences be uttered consecutively?

Maybe, “he’s psychotic, call the cops!”

Or, “he’s psychotic, hide!”

Probably, “he’s psychotic, don’t engage.”

Our strange or backward response in this moment struck me as a picture of the upside-down Kingdom Jesus came to proclaim. What the world values, God does not. The least are first. We are here to serve. What we have been given, we give away. At Good Sam we give health and healing, understanding and forgiveness, compassion. And on this emotionally charged day, we offered this man the treatment he needed for his mind and the grace he didn’t necessarily deserve. Our staff members took a deep breath, reminded themselves of their individual reasons for working here, and provided him care. As he was able to de-escalate and receive our care, he offered more of his traumatic story and the desperation that pushed him past acceptable behavior, then he sincerely apologized.

This story could have had any number of other endings. Walking alongside Jesus in His redemptive work doesn’t guarantee a positive outcome in the moment, but it does promise victory in the end. That’s a promise we hold onto every day, but especially on the hard ones. I’m extremely grateful that this is my “normal” and that it’s a normal we get to offer thousands of people every year. It’s only possible because of the financial gifts of so many generous people who believe in caring for the sick and those on the margins. Thank you for your support and for the good it makes possible!

To God be the glory forever and ever,

Heather Kersey

Chief Development Officer  
Good Samaritan Health Center


Why We Keep the Lights On

November 14, 2025

Five years ago, I walked through the doors of Good Sam ready to work part-time in triage. I was wide-eyed, curious, and eager to learn. What I didn’t expect was how deeply I’d be shaped by the people I met, the stories I heard, and the quiet power of showing up week after week. From 2020 to 2023, nearly every Friday became part of my rhythm. School during the week, Good Sam on the weekends. Fridays weren’t just clinic days. They were my escape. A place where I could step out of textbooks and into real life. I got to know our patients not just by their symptoms but by their stories. I saw how a conversation with a provider could spark hope. How a warm greeting, a listening ear, or a moment of patience could make someone feel seen.

I watched people get healthier. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. I saw them return stronger, more confident, more whole. And yes, there were hard days too. Days when someone walked in carrying the weight of the world. Days when they came in one version of themselves and left just a little lighter. Days when the kindest thing I could do was slow down, listen, and remind someone that they mattered. That’s what our Friday Clinic is about. It’s not just a place for healthcare. It’s a place for dignity, connection, and healing. We offer medical, dental, mental health counseling, prescriptions, hygiene kits, and more, all completely free of charge for people experiencing homelessness. It costs more than $500,000 a year to run, and every dollar is worth it.

This year, as we prepare for Giving Tuesday, we’re aiming to raise $50,000 to keep this program going strong through 2026. Giving Tuesday is one of the biggest fundraising days of the year for Good Sam. It’s a chance for our community to rally around something that truly matters. And if this year has taught us anything, it’s that resilience lives here.

During the recent government shutdown, we saw how quickly systems like SNAP and food access could be disrupted. But we also saw how quickly our community responded. Donors reached out. Teams brainstormed. A food access resource list appeared almost overnight, though we know it took time and care to pull together. It was created by student interns who chose to use their time, even during finals season, to help our community. We redirected food donations that would have gone to other nonprofits and placed them in our own downstairs pantry, making sure our families had what they needed.

What you saw on social media was just the tip of the iceberg. Behind the scenes, every team at Good Sam was asking the same question: how do we make sure our patients feel seen, supported, and heard? And they did. We did. That’s why we keep the lights on. That’s why we show up on Fridays, during shutdowns, during COVID, during construction, and on Giving Tuesday. Care should never be conditional. Dignity should never be delayed. And hope should never have to wait.

This Giving Tuesday, we invite you to be part of that hope. Help us reach our $50,000 goal. Help us keep the clinic open. Help us keep showing up. Because when the world feels uncertain, Good Sam remains a place of certainty. A place where people are treated like people. A place where healing begins.

Early giving has already started, and we’d love for you to help us #GiveGoodFridays in 2026. Give today at www.gagives.org/organization/Good-Samaritan-Health-Center

Tiffany Loredo

Marketing and Communications Coordinator 
Good Samaritan Health Center

 

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Back Where It Began: From First Job to First Panel

October 31, 2025

Earlier this month, I had the honor of serving as a panelist for the first annual Ring the Alarm Youth Prevention Summit at Covenant Community Inc. Being back at CCI was such a full-circle moment for me because this place was my first job out of college. In 2019, CCI had been around for about 25 years, yet had very little online presence. I was hired as one of the Social Media Coordinators through the AmeriCorps program and had a part in building their platforms to help share the great work being done at this nonprofit organization. I absolutely loved working at CCI; it’s where I first fell in love with purpose-driven and mission-led work.

Fast forward to a few months ago, a former CCI coworker reached out and asked if I’d be interested in being a panelist for the Ring the Alarm Youth Prevention Summit. Although I was initially hesitant, I agreed, not fully knowing what I was committing to. I’m so glad I was part of this special day. The summit addressed some of the urgent challenges that many young adults face in Atlanta, including trauma, mental health disparities, substance abuse, and limited access to care. As a panelist, I had the opportunity to share my mental health journey and answer questions from audience members about how I navigate the challenges it brings. Although I’ve written quite a few articles and blog posts on the topic of mental health, this was my first time actually speaking about it on a public platform. Leading up to the event, I was extremely nervous--mostly about how I’d be perceived once I shared some of the things I’ve struggled with. But once the event started, I quickly realized that the purpose of the summit was much bigger than me.

This was a chance not only to share my experiences, but also to be reminded of the importance of community. The other panelists and audience members really opened my eyes and reminded me that no one is ever alone in their journey with something they may struggle with. There are many challenges, diseases, and diagnoses that plague so many of Atlanta’s youth. I learned that mental health disorders and substance use disorders often occur together—most young adults with mental health disorders are at a significantly higher risk for developing substance use disorders, and vice versa. While exact local statistics on the overlap are limited, these co-occurring challenges are a significant issue in Atlanta. I’ll admit, it wasn’t until this event that I learned how often mental illness and substance abuse go hand in hand. The good news is, there are a number of resources available to those who may be struggling, whether it’s substance abuse, mental illness, or something else.

I understand that diseases, diagnoses, and lack of access to care go far beyond our everyday circumstances. There’s so much to be done at the local, state, and national levels through policy, programming, and even funding, but I truly believe that everyone deserves access and assistance for whatever they may be facing. I’m forever grateful for this opportunity and pray that my small role on this day helps push the conversation forward around mental health and more.

Bianca Long

Development Coordinator 
Good Samaritan Health Center


1 in 5 and Still Invisible

October 17, 2025

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, nearly 1 in 5 adults in the United States lives with a mental illness. If you do the quick math, that’s 59 million people, an absolute staggering number. There was a time when mental illness was considered rare, but after learning of these numbers, it’s obvious that mental illness isn’t rare at all. So why do we treat it like it is?

I have a few thoughts…

To start, I believe that many people who are struggling are often afraid to talk about their mental health out of fear of judgment from others. For me, I know when I first received my diagnosis, it was so difficult for me to open up about it because I was afraid of being labeled “crazy” or “unstable”. It was also difficult for me because, unlike physical illnesses, mental illness isn’t something you can see…which can make it very difficult for you to describe what’s going on in your head.

Another reason I believe we treat mental illness as something that is so rare is because of its stigma, particularly in communities of people of color. In these spaces, mental illness is often seen as a sign of weakness or lack of a relationship with God. I’ll be the first to admit, I grew up having these exact same sentiments etched into my brain. However, I have come to learn that asking for help is actually a sign of strength, and God can work through medicine, therapy, and resources.

I also believe that mental illnesses are often perceived as rare because of how they are portrayed in the media. Frequently, when we turn on the television or scroll through social media, we are exposed to mental illness only in its most extreme or sensationalized forms, which reinforces the misconception that these conditions are unusual or dramatic. In reality, diagnoses such as anxiety and depression are incredibly common, yet they receive far less attention in mainstream media coverage, contributing to a fictional understanding of how widespread mental health challenges truly are.

Even though millions of adults experience mental illness each year, many never receive formal diagnoses or treatment, which also creates the illusion that these conditions are rare. This disconnect is largely driven by systemic barriers that limit access to care. Shortage of mental health providers, lack of widespread education about symptoms and treatment options, as well as making sure those resources are rooted in experiences that are unique to people of color.

During my time at Good Sam and as a current MPH student, I’ve come to recognize the great need for expanded access to mental health services, greater public awareness, and courageous individuals willing to have open and honest conversations, ensuring that this critical dialogue continues.

I have been able to attend therapy regularly, take medication, and have a great support system that includes my family, friends, and doctors, all of which help me manage my mental health diagnosis. However, I realize that I am extremely fortunate to have these resources, as that is not the reality for so many in America.

Exercising, listening to music, and hanging out with my friends are all a part of managing my mental health diagnosis, but overall, what has helped me the most has been sharing my story with others. It helps me realize that I am not alone in my journey. My prayer is that open conversations about mental health become so common that mental illness is no longer seen as rare or unusual.

Bianca Long

Development Coordinator 
Good Samaritan Health Center


In the Dark: Mental Illness/ Health and Cultural Silence

October 03, 2025

What happens when cultural pride meets mental health stigma? For many in the Hispanic community, it’s a delicate dance between tradition and healing.

This blog post came to mind as we celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month and prepare for Mental Illness Awareness Week next week. It’s a unique moment to reflect on how these two themes intersect and why that matters.

Not too long ago, I saw a snippet from a comedy skit that touched on family values and personal health. In the scene, a son visits his mom and aunt, bringing his girlfriend along. At one point, the girlfriend mentions that she’s helping her boyfriend manage his depression. The mom quickly responds, “My son does not have depression. He just likes the dark.”

It was funny and painfully real. That line stung a little because it reflects a belief still held in many Hispanic households.

So, what does mental health look like for people from this background? What unique barriers do they face?

A 2020 study estimated that 7.7 million Hispanic people over the age of 12 in the U.S. experienced symptoms of mental illness, yet only 35.1% received any treatment. Compare that to the national average of 46.2%, and you start to see the gaps. These barriers range from language and poverty to limited health insurance coverage and stigma.

Speaking with a mental health provider can be difficult for anyone. These are heavy topics. But that difficulty is only amplified when there’s a language barrier between patient and provider. Cost is another factor: 17% of Hispanic/Latinx people in the U.S. live in poverty, and poverty itself increases the risk of mental illness.

Then there’s stigma. The very words our loved ones say, like in that skit, can stop someone from seeking care or even acknowledging that care is needed. Stigma can lead to a lack of information about symptoms, treatment options, or where to go for help. And without that knowledge, many never seek care at all.

While we can’t erase these barriers overnight, we can choose to meet patients and families where they are. Being culturally and linguistically competent improves patient interactions and outcomes. Having interpreters present during care isn’t just a kindness; it’s essential. Understanding culturally specific phrases can prevent misdiagnosis and unnecessary treatment. Because sometimes, there just isn’t a direct translation from Spanish to English or vice versa.

So don’t be like the mom in that skit. Let’s stop making mental health care a taboo subject. Let’s talk about it, normalize it, and make space for healing.

If you or someone you know is experiencing a mental health crisis, help is available. Call 988 or text HOME to 741741 for immediate support. For assistance in Spanish, text AYUDA to either number to connect with a Spanish-speaking counselor.

Tiffany Loredo

Marketing and Communications Coordinator 
Good Samaritan Health Center



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