became ing. The a brain erate. t see the specially ellectual ng with,” into ed the DBIP itional eople, into ferent One 000, for the P’s he d, e a alleviated by the funds from DBIP. “I had this program that showed up and gave me hope in a really dark time,” Rodriguez said. Rodriguez said DBIP helped her achieve financial freedom and allowed her to stabilize her life. She used her first payment to pay for places to stay, like hotels and other short-term living arrangements, gas, and cleaning and laundry products. Her second payment went towards fixing her truck. But the program that helped Rodriguez, and more than 850 people who are homeless in metro Denver, is at risk of closing because of a lack of funding. That could leave hundreds of people without a support system that they’ve relied on to survive for the last few years. END OF AN ERA? It has been a year since the Denver Basic Income Project, DBIP, halted its monthly no strings attached payments after losing state funding. Yet, DBIP’s participants feel the impact is worth funding. “I hope that funders will consider it and we could continue the program, because the Denver Basic Income project is transformative, and I think that people on the streets could really change their lives with this kind of project,” said Rodriguez, who now sits on the DBIP board of directors. According to the one-year research report, all DBIP’s payment groups showed a significant impact in housing outcomes; rent and ownership increased, and nights spent unsheltered decreased. After 10 months, approximately 45% of people in the program lived in their own house or apartment. “It was hard for me when they said it was ending, but [at least I had] that little bit of time of being able to get on my feet,” Rodriguez said. “I got a place, I got a new car, and reached other personal goals. I just don’t understand why there aren’t people funding this program, especially because they’ve seen what kind of impact it has.” Rodriguez said DBIP gave her a strong foundation to apply for housing when she didn’t have verifiable income. It has also given her a platform to advocate for herself and her peers. Since being a part of the program and now serving on the board, Rodriguez has given her testimony on the significance of the DBIP for multiple media outlets and recently, she spoke at the Homelessness Initiative Conference in Washington, D.C. “I’m not ashamed to tell my story, and I know who I was before and then what happened to me. Just giving people hope that it doesn’t matter who you are, anything could happen at any time, and people go through things, and this program really does work,” she said. IMMEASURABLE IMPACT Apart from the cash transfers, participants said the program was immensely beneficial. For instance, it provided them with a cellphone and a debit card for those who didn’t already have one. As a participant, Rodriguez emphasized the importance of understanding the deeper causes of homelessness. Navigating services like Social Security or human services can be nearly impossible for those without access to phones or stable communication. “People can’t keep up with paperwork or appointments, and then they get caught up in the wrong environment, sometimes turning to drugs or getting into legal trouble,” she said. Community Engagement Manager at DBIP, Maria Sierra, whose work primarily focuses on participants and community-based partners, shared how much the program has impacted those involved. She reflected on a man who fell into homelessness after a work injury. He went to Lookout Mountain with the intent to end his life. Yet, he received the notification that he was selected for DBIP which gave him a reason to keep living. Sierra also shared the program’s impact beyond financial support. She remembered a mom who received the $6500 but used the funds to buy alcohol to cope with her daughter‘s death after being murdered, saying, “I drank it away.” The grieving mother came to one of the coffee times and, despite her struggles, ongoing communication from the DBIP team—through emails, texts, and invitations to casual coffee gatherings—kept her connected. She said she realized at some point the money’s going to end and that she needed to do something with it. Sierra said that this is just one of many similar stories, illustrating how a consistent, compassionate connection can lead to lasting change. “My hope is for people to be thriving in their life and not surviving,” Sierra said. “To truly understand what that means, to cross that threshold, but to be able to live with dignity and not shame, and navigate life, not out of pain, but out of joy, and just really being able to thrive for the movement.” “I hope that people understand that basic income and giving people money in hopes that they’re going to do well with their lives is not new,” she continued. “We’ve all received that on some level, and so this is not a new concept — you can trust people to do good with their lives.” November 2025 DENVER VOICE 9
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