Attending UCLA without a place to call home

What is left of Sabrina Tinsay’s worldly possessions fit snugly inside a small, unbranded duffle bag.

Her modest carryall holds three dresses bought at a thrift store, a pair of jeans, underwear, an extra bra, five pairs of socks, medicine, books, a box of saltines and some toiletries.

“I basically wear the same things ““ the same outfits ““ every day now,” said Tinsay, a third-year international development studies student.

Caught in a sea of bad circumstances, Tinsay is one of UCLA’s little-known homeless students.

Tinsay transferred to UCLA from Cypress College in fall quarter of 2009, during which she was able to get by, if just barely, she said.

Although her family was not able to provide any financial support, Tinsay said that between an outside scholarship and a full-time job at a Santa Monica convalescent home, she was able to cover tuition and rent.

However, her scholarship ran out in winter, and at the same time, the patient she tended to in Santa Monica grew more ill and could no longer employ Tinsay.

Tinsay vividly remembers the ride home after being fired.

“I was on the bus feeling really crappy, thinking about what I should do next, and something clicked,” she said. “I thought, “˜I need to do something really quickly or else I’m going to be living on the streets.'”

One by one through her phone book, Tinsay called anyone she knew, explaining her situation until she found a place to stay.

“That’s when it started. Couch. Floor. Sleeping bag. Week per week,” Tinsay said.

Not only did Tinsay sell her lease and leave her apartment, she also began to make back whatever she could from her belongings on Craigslist.

She sold her bed, clothes and furniture for $300. Her Apple laptop went for $700, which immediately had to go toward tuition, she said.

“I’ve learned to adapt,” she said.

It has been months since things first fell apart and Tinsay still has not found a steady job or a place to call home.

“Right now I’m in the process of packing all my stuff again and going,” Tinsay said. “I don’t know where I will go. I don’t know where I will stay.”

In the lobby of De Neve Plaza on Saturday afternoon, Tinsay finished saying goodbye to the person she had just spent a week with in Dykstra. She was preparing herself for a meeting with yet another friend of a friend.

“I’m dressed up today to meet people and talk to them and beg them for me to stay at their dorm or their apartment for at least a week,” Tinsay said.

It was nearly six o’clock and Tinsay had not eaten all day, something not uncommon, she said. Her bank account held a balance of 53 cents ““ all that remained of the original $300 she had collected for all her furniture and wardrobe.

Even though her life had been like this for months, Tinsay spoke with a kindhearted tone and a unmistakable sense of optimism. She carried a nearly constant smile. She even laughed about her troubles.

Perhaps this is because adversity and tough odds are not unfamiliar to Sabrina Tinsay.

She spent the first half of her adolescence growing up in the Philippines. Her family lived in a beach house and Sabrina attended a Montessori-type school, she said.

Her mother, a single mom, brought her, her brother and her sister to the United States as undocumented immigrants on April 16, 1998. It was Sabrina’s birthday.

Her mother decided to settle the family near northern Orange County. Much like her current situation, the process of finding a place back then was also anything but easy, Tinsay said.

“We came to America with $25. We stayed in garages of people we met at a church,” she said.

Tinsay and her family continued living in this situation until her mom could secure a job.

Assimilating into the American school system presented one hurdle after another for Tinsay.

In junior high at the time, Tinsay did not speak English at all when she first arrived in the United States. Furthermore, she suffered from dyslexia.

Once Tinsay completed junior high, her mother moved the family to Cypress, but stability remained elusive.

Tinsay explained that her mother, an undocumented worker making minimum wage at best, was always in search of a cheaper living situation. That meant the Tinsay family was constantly on the move, wherever was cheapest, she said.

Tinsay attended four different high schools in as many years. The family moved between Garden Grove, Tustin, Las Vegas and then finally back to Cypress.

When she graduated high school, Tinsay said she knew even community college was a long shot. At $20 per unit, Cypress College posed a significant financial challenge.

Still, Tinsay attended, and whenever she was not working to pay off her tuition, she was active on campus. She volunteered and joined student government. A non-English-speaking immigrant only years earlier, Tinsay was now tutoring local junior high students in English.

Upon graduating from Cypress College, the school invited Tinsay to speak before her classmates.

“I remember I stood there at the podium giving my speech; I told them to never give up on your dream,” Tinsay said. “And when I came here to UCLA, I still have not given up my dream.”

However, Tinsay said, UCLA itself was never specifically part of her dream. A four-year college was something she wanted, but she said she was never so bold as to worry about which one.

“I was never a chooser,” she said.

Getting into UCLA brought a wave of worries to Tinsay and her family. As an undocumented student, she has to deal with the double-edged sword of AB 540.

California Assembly Bill 540, passed in 2001, allows undocumented immigrants to attend California public colleges and universities without having to pay the higher nonresident tuition fees. However, these students are still ineligible for state and federal financial aid.

This meant that Tinsay could only secure private scholarships, which, as mentioned earlier, ran out after her first quarter at UCLA.

By this past Monday, Tinsay had found herself another week’s worth of lodging and was back to work finding ways to keep her head above water.

“She really works hard,” said Kristtina Javierre, a third-year biology student. Javierre, a friend of Tinsay’s, gave Tinsay a place in her apartment for over two weeks at the start of spring quarter.

“She doesn’t care about what it takes, about if you look stupid, she just wants to be able to be at UCLA,” Javierre said. “That’s her heart ““ to be here at UCLA, to succeed here. But it’s really hard when there’s no financial backing.”

Kutibh Chihabi, a first-year neuroscience student, heard Tinsay tell her story on April 16 at BruINTENT, a USAC-sponsored event put on to increase awareness of homelessness both on and off campus.

Chihabi had never met Tinsay before, but after hearing her speak, he said he felt compelled to offer her living space on a friend’s unoccupied bed for a week, which she accepted.

Chihabi said the experience of housing Tinsay changed him.

“I’ve always known that there were stories … homeless people that need help, but until I met someone on a personal level, I’d never really thought that much about it,” Chihabi said. “It was just shocking to see this.”

What Tinsay cannot collect in public scholarships, she makes up for with odd jobs. She has five of them.

Tinsay spent this past Monday in a corporate law office in Century City, hired for just a day to help with filing.

Additionally, Tinsay works as a babysitter, a personal assistant to a novelist, a hired hand for a nurse’s small business and an assistant at a dental office. Unfortunately, Tinsay said, all five jobs combined still do not bring in as much as her former full-time job in Santa Monica did.

Tinsay said she knows she must remain strong, yet she is understandably not shy about her frustration.

“I feel like I’m climbing out of a hole with my fingernails,” she said.

Of course, Tinsay must balance all the turmoil of homelessness with the daily responsibilities of being a full-time student. Tinsay has a 3.7 GPA, spends late nights writing papers and unwinds at parties and get-togethers with friends.

In tough times, Tinsay said she can turn to school resources for some relief. She has showered at the Wooden Center, slept on couches in libraries, and said the donation-run food closet in the Student Activities Center has fed her when she had no money to eat.

Early last Saturday morning Tinsay spent her first night on the street. Trying to get ahead, she was studying in a De Neve lounge when, at 4 a.m., a group of housing officials escorted her to Gayley Avenue.

Not one to be discouraged, Tinsay said it was simply a firsthand experience of the misconceptions some people have about homelessness.

“They have their own experience, that homeless people are somewhat crazy … or unaccomplished and don’t have goals,” Tinsay said. “And that’s not true.”

To hear more about homeless students at UCLA, visit uclaradio.com/news to hear audio of Tinsay and USAC President Homaira Hosseini.