In the previous episode of this series, we spent some time with Tilecia Lee, a mom who was drifting

between living in her car and sometimes staying with friends or family. In that story, when Tilecia

finally started trying to get some help getting into housing or shelter, she began by calling 211.

Thank you so much for hoping. How can I assist you today?

Yes, me and my 11-year-old son is home.

Okay.

I heard a lot about 211 doing this reporting, not just from Tilecia who called a bunch of times,

but from everyone, from homeless people and service providers and advocates.

It seemed like 211 was almost always the starting place for people who were looking for help.

But mostly when people talked about calling, they were frustrated. They'd say,

I called, but it didn't work, or I called, but I didn't get anything. That's how Tilecia felt.

In her mind, 211 and the system were the same thing, and they hadn't come through for her.

So what was 211's role in the system that helps people out of homelessness?

And why did it seem like a dead end for so many people?

Hi, good morning. Hi, I'm Tilei Ming-Won. I'm a reporter that's here to

Oh, that's right, Tilei. How are you doing, Tilei? Good.

At the beginning of March, right before everything shut down for the pandemic,

I paid a visit to the 211 call center. I found answers to those questions,

but I also found a whole fascinating world, where the boundaries that separate collar and operator

are blurrier than I imagined. This is according to need, chapter two.

In Alameda County, 211 is run by a nonprofit called Eden, Ionr, and is located in the city of Hayward,

southeast of Oakland. The main call center room is about the size of an elementary school classroom.

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