In 2016, Our Town Reno first met Wendy Wiglesworth holding court and making warm drinks for neighbors along the Truckee River. While sharing her story she provided different solutions about how she thought the city could help the houseless. Six years later, we found her at Rock Park, hosting a vigil to remember friends who recently passed away.
Wiglesworth is now an Outreach Director for The Reno Initiative for Shelter and Equality.
“Well, like on a normal day, I wake up and I have lots of messages and calls,” she explains of her new paid role, which she used to fulfill previously ad hoc to help others. “I do a lot of crisis calls, like overnight emergency things lately, especially with cold weather. I'll go out to someone if they need immediate things. Like, are you okay right now? Are you okay for the evening? Then I go, are you hungry? Are you cold? Do you have an ID? Do you need disability? Do you wanna move inside? Do you wanna go to a group home? Do you wanna go to the shelter? Do you wanna stay out here? If someone wants to stay out here, that's the one I'm gonna look out after more. Because like with RISE our whole thing is like who's ever the most vulnerable in the room. That's who we're going for straight.”
She tries to connect people with resources, but the most important she says is that human connection and building trust — becoming a friend. “This last year, I've spent a lot of time with the people I already have, building it better so that they're not stubborn,” she said. “So, when they're cold, they can get over pride and call me anyways. And I think it has worked.”
She says there is no one size fits all solution when helping. “One program isn't gonna work for everybody,” she said. “So the more options and the more ways we have to get inside and be stable, I think the better.”
Wiglesworth threw out flowers at a recent gathering to honor friends who recently died, many while living on the streets.
Wiglesworth does not live in tents anymore. After the initial Our Town Reno article, she says she was lucky to come across the right people at the right time.
“I met this girl, Jen, she used to be with RISE, Jen Cassady, I'll throw her name everywhere. She's my favorite. She came down to the end of the world where I was living. When I came back from Carson City, I called her after meeting her only once. And it just proves the RISE thing over and over to me… I had that trust. I was in a bad spot in Carson and I called her and she answered and she was like, ‘ Yeah, I can get you to Reno. No problem.’ And then the next week, when she came out to the end of the world, I was, I realized I was done and now she gave me that trust and there was someone who lived out there that way as well, that was in an apartment and they passed away and I took over the lease and it just kind of worked out.”
She says every story for getting off the street is different and that hers felt scripted.
“It's almost like the universe just kind of parted and said, walk here,” she said. “They gave me bumper boards. And then when [RISE] had grants and I got hired on for like a part-time gig. And then I just kept busting my *** doing the same thing cuz they just kept telling me to do what you're doing. Just keep doing it. I'm like, okay. And I just put blind faith and trust in that. And it's worked out. I mean I've worked my *** off and I went from one apartment. They gave me an eviction notice because the building got sold for new developers by UNR.”
For a while, she tried to have jobs which came with housing. She tried being a house manager for a recovery house, for example, but after that didn’t work out, she was finally able to find a room, no strings attached, at the Desert Rose Inn, a motel which has refused to be sold to the Jacobs Entertainment expansion.
“I've stayed there cuz it's, I don't wanna say easier, but it's hard to find a place, it's just hard to find a place,” she said. “There isn't really anything available. So I've just kept doing the same thing.”
Even though she is now working closer with government officials than before, Wiglesworth says she remains her true self, always fighting for the interests of those less fortunate.
RISE is now partnering with Washoe County both in terms of managing the Our Place shelter for women and families, as well as for outreach efforts. Even while working within the county’s system, she says she can keep her free, critical thinking, including criticizing how the Cares Campus was conceived.
“I don't think we should have gone with a super shelter,” she said. “It's like people tell me it's a FEMA camp and it is, and yeah, it's some place warm, but when you can be out here with family versus being inside and like a concentration camp is what it's been compared to, I wouldn't go there either. But here I just had a woman who said she preferred it there over Our Place, which confused me, but for her it's a better fit.”
She says more staff helping with the unhoused should spend more time with those living in encampments, to get a better sense of who they are. “Like everybody out there on the other side, they don't see this side, but just to keep staff and train them to make 'em safe and then have them stay and build that to have that camaraderie to have your guests believe in you is hard work…I just think it was too big, too much too quick.”
She also has plenty of tips to give out for those doing outreach, from police officers to downtown Reno ambassadors.
“The first thing is when you drive by or walk by, don't give them that look. Just say hi, like diamonds are dirt. It shouldn't matter what you're wearing. I think the most important thing is to remember what your mom taught you and practice it. You don't judge a book by its cover. Don't stare. It's not polite. If you're gonna stare, say something nice, or don't say it at all. Treat someone like you wanna be treated…Don't put demands on your dollar. Like if they wanna buy beer, so what you gave 'em a dollar, let 'em do their thing. I'm not trying to promote beer, I'm just saying, it's not your business. If you share, just share because you want to, not because you're gonna put restraints over it.”
At the vigil, Wiglesworth broke down when a friend she thought had also passed away showed up.
For Wiglesworth, the recent ceremony was especially for her friend Fuzz, who died after a stroke in the summer of 2021.
“He's my guardian ogre,” she said of her friend, a former skateboarder who was known for his big beard and generosity. “He was my compass and I tell people like, he loves me here by myself. I know I'm not alone, but he was my person. He is missed so much. And I get really possessive when people say he is my best friend. I'm like, ‘no, he wasn't’, I'm the wiggle, wiggle the song! But Fuzz was so amazing that he made everybody feel like that. If someone didn't know, I'm almost like, I'm so sorry you missed out dear. My dear, me and Dofu, you know, I mean, everybody's got their close name, you know that's how great Fuzz was. I'm not dealing with it. I miss him bad. I see him everywhere. I hear him. Like it sucks, but he was super tired and it's okay.”