Find the original reporting at Living Free, part of a solutions journalism newsroom out of Temple University.
TO BE ADMITTED INTO THE MORRIS HOME, ONE MUST BE ACTIVELY SEEKING RECOVERY, AND IDENTIFY AS TRANSGENDER OR GENDER NON-CONFORMING. THE PROGRAM OPERATES AT THE INTERSECTION OF TRANS-SPECIFIC TRAUMA AND ADDICTION.
Addiction looks different for everybody, there is no singular identifier or symptom. Certainly, actively seeking recovery mirrors that.
“I thought I was different,” said one resident, who wished to remain anonymous. “I paid my bills. I went to work on time. I was a functional alcoholic.”
The resident credits her successful first steps in recovery to a supportive family and to Morris Home is the first and only inpatient residential drug and alcohol rehabilitation program in the United States for people who identify as transgender or gender non-conforming. There are LGBTQ+ affirming recovery models across the nation, but Morris Home is unique in that its residents must identify as transgender or gender non-conforming to be admitted. The program works to address the intersection of addiction and trauma specific to trans populations.
“The staff here are willing to fight,” they said. “For us to see another day clean.”
The Morris Home opened in Southwest Philadelphia in 2012. The facility is funded by the national nonprofit organization Resources for Human Development, which helps the homeless, people with intellectual and developmental disabilities and those seeking recovery.
As an eight-bedroom facility operating out of a renovated RHD-owned home, the Morris Home offers short and long-term rehabilitation programs. Residents’ average stay ranges from four to six months.
Each resident has their own room for the sake of privacy and to encourage a level of personal accountability in independent living. Residents participate in daily chores and individual and group therapy that incorporate themes of trans empowerment and self-care. They are also encouraged to volunteer during their stays.
“It’s definitely an eclectic approach because there aren’t a lot of traditional [recovery] curriculums or models that are trans-inclusive,” said Laura Sorensen, Morris Home’s executive director.
“A lot of our folks are living at the intersection of having a lot of different identities, having faced trans-specific violence, poverty, racism, sexism. For a lot of folks, addiction is sort of secondary to the trauma of being a trans woman of color in our country right now.”
Sorensen said about 200 clients have enrolled at the Morris Home over the past five years. Individuals pay for their treatment through their insurance, mostly Medicaid. About 90 percent of residents saw a decrease in substance use from the month prior to treatment to the last month of their rehabilitation. Additionally, 83 percent of residents received medical treatment, including preventative HIV/AIDS and Hepatitis C care, and an additional 89 percent transitioned from use of street-grade unregulated hormones to medical-grade hormone treatment.
The home offers trans-specific resources, like facilitating legal name changes. According to a February report from the Morris Home, 86 percent of residents successfully changed their gender on their state identification while living in the home, and almost half were able to obtain a legal name change.
Morris Home also actively recruits trans-identifying staff members, which Sorensen said helps build trust among members.
“Most trans people in the city have had really negative experiences with other service providers,” Sorensen said. “We have to do a lot to prove ourselves.”
“Morris Home has been crucial for trans identified folks in Philadelphia that have struggled with substance misuse,” said Elaine Dutton, the Trans Care Services Manager at the Mazzoni Center, a Philadelphia-based LGBTQ health center. Dutton said the center’s health clinicians often refer trans-identifying clients to Morris Home upon hearing a person is seeking long-term recovery from an active addiction.
“To have an agency where they can not only trust there will be trans-competent care available, but to be with folks who they have shared lived experience in common with is really important.”
In addition to offering trans-specific resources, Morris Home utilizes a harm reduction model, meaning that if someone resumes substance use, they are not immediately kicked out of the program.
“What we’re going to do is bring folks back and ask, ‘What wasn’t working for you?’” Sorensen said. “‘What did you need that you weren’t getting? What would you do differently next time?’ The goal is to keep moving forward.”
“I really think we are a model that could be replicated,” Sorensen added. “There is a huge need for space like this.”

Ashley, 51, is entering recovery for the first time following a 30-year addiction. Mercer has been blind for the past five years, and was denied as a liability at several recovery programs before coming to Morris Home. The Morris Home is the only inpatient recovery house in the country that solely accepts trans or gender non-conforming people. Their clients are primarily trans women of color, whose stays range from 4-6 months. The facility houses eight people at a time, and operates out of a renovated West Philadelphia home. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

For residents of the Morris Home, smoking is often a reprieve as they enter recovery. Cigarettes are regularly traded and exchanged among residents using them to help mitigate cravings for more devastating drugs. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

Jade Butler speaks to her son’s father outside of Morris Home. Butler was kicked out of her home at a young age, and participated in survival sex work to feed herself and her son. “It’s hard to be a black trans woman raising a young man to make the right decisions for himself.” Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

The neighborhood residents, according to Sorensen, are generally protective and positive towards residents of Morris Home, although there have been instances of harassment on the program’s front porch, where residents often sit to smoke. “It’s a shame because people deserve to feel safe in their home.” Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

“I would like this to be my first and last time here,” said Randi Del Rey, 25, on the porch of the West Philadelphia-located Morris Home. Del Rey left the program two months into her recovery, and has not attempted to return to the Morris Home. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

Keyonna Scott waits for her family to arrive at the Morris Home on her birthday on April 25.The neighborhood residents, according to Sorensen, are generally protective and positive towards residents of Morris Home, although there have been instances of harassment on the program’s front porch, where residents often sit to smoke. “It’s a shame because people deserve to feel safe in their home.” Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

The contents of Ashley's purse. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

Demi sits at the Morris Home kitchen table with resident Jade in the background, and speaks with therapist Kade (off-camera). Demi left Morris Home of her own will, and ran into Keyonna on the street, who brought her back in the house for a visit. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

Keyonna Scott was 17 when she discovered she was HIV positive. “That’s when I really lost my mind,” Scott said on her addiction. Although she had dabbled in different drugs, it was crack that became Scott’s drug of choice. “I didn’t know how to let it go. I let the crystal meth go, but I didn’t know how to let the crack go.” To maintain her habit, Scott engaged in survival sex work until seeking recovery first at Philadelphia recovery home Gaudenzia, before coming to Morris Home.
Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.
Jade Butler on the front steps of the Morris Home, found at 51st and Woodland in West Philadelphia. Jade has lived at the Morris Home for almost four months. “My low was my child nearly being taken away from me, laying in a face of vomit. That was my eye opener.” Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

"That's how you clean the dirt out of a wig, abso-motherfucking-lutely." Ashley Mercer helps Keyonna Scott clean a wig. Mercer has been blind for over a decade, but uses her other senses to help navigate her world. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.

Ashley makes a call to her niece "Lil Miss," while a Resources for Human Development (RHD) representative works. Maggie Andresen for Covering Addiction, 2017.