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The Wisconsin Department of Health Services is preparing to implement new federal Medicaid work requirements that could put health insurance coverage at risk for tens of thousands of BadgerCare Plus members.

Department of Health Services Secretary Kirsten Johnson and Wisconsin Medicaid Director Amanda Dreyer answered reporters’ questions Thursday about how the state plans to implement the new requirements and what members should do now.

Here’s what you need to know.

Who is impacted

The new requirements were created under the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which requires states to implement Medicaid work requirements for some adults.

In Wisconsin, the requirements apply to BadgerCare Plus members ages 19 to 64 who do not have a dependent child younger than 19 living with them.

About 200,000 Wisconsin adults will be subject to the new requirements. The agency estimates about 63,000 people are at immediate risk of losing their health care coverage because the state does not currently have documentation showing they meet the requirements or qualify for an exemption.

New requirements

To keep Medicaid coverage, affected members must show they completed at least 80 hours of employment, volunteer work, school, job training or another qualifying activity in a single month during the 12-month period since they were last approved for health care coverage.

Some people may qualify for exemptions, including those who are medically frail or family caregivers, but Department of Health Services leaders say they are waiting for federal guidance on what documentation will be required. 

Work requirements will take effect for new Medicaid applicants early next year. Starting in January 2027, new applicants must meet the federal work requirement in the month before they apply.

Current BadgerCare Plus members will be subject to the requirements when they renew their coverage starting in March 2027.

What you can do

State officials say the most important step is making sure the department has current contact information.

Medicaid members should keep their mailing address, phone number and email address up to date to ensure they receive important notices about the upcoming changes. Members can update their information through the ACCESS Wisconsin website or the ACCESS smartphone app.

The department also recommends keeping documentation such as pay stubs, volunteer records or school enrollment information that may be needed during the renewal process.

Where possible, the Department of Health Services plans to use existing medical records and diagnosis codes to identify people who qualify for exemptions rather than requiring new paperwork. During the program’s first year, members who believe they are medically frail may self-attest while the department obtains supporting documentation.

Resident outreach

The Department of Health Services is working with health care providers, counties and community organizations to prepare for the changes, with a particular focus on helping people experiencing homelessness and others who may have difficulty meeting the new reporting requirements. 

The department has also created a “Medicaid: New Federal Work Requirement” webpage that it will update with new information about eligibility, exemptions, reporting requirements and implementation timelines.

Johnson said the state’s goal is to ensure everyone who qualifies for Medicaid can keep their coverage despite the new federal requirements.

Department of Health Services leaders estimate the first year of implementation will cost about $10 million in system upgrades. The agency is still finalizing staffing and training costs. Officials say they will continue working with local partners to help members understand the new rules and avoid unnecessary loss of health coverage.

Jonathan Aguilar is a visual journalist at Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service who is supported through a partnership between CatchLight Local and Report for America.

New Medicaid work requirements are coming. Here’s what you need to know.  is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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• Business owners and individuals have mobilized to provide food, water and supplies to those impacted by Monday’s tornado and to clear fallen trees from the area.  
• Wisconsin Watch spoke to several people about why they volunteered their time and resources. 
• Waverly Beach Bar & Grille distributed 500 box lunches daily through Thursday to help affected community members, who include its own employees.  
• Organizations like Operation BBQ Relief provided food to survivors and first responders to “give them just a couple minutes reprieve from all this.”

A walk around downtown Menasha reveals the heart of devastation after an EF3 tornado surged through parts of Neenah, Appleton and Menasha on Monday at 11:56 a.m., traveling 12 miles. Ceramic roof tiles lie shattered on the sidewalk, trees bend at unnatural angles, downed power lines block streets and roofs are torn from churches and homes. 

Community members are still recovering from losing homes and businesses, and thousands of residents remain without power two days later. But the neighborhoods hit the hardest buzz with activity. Chainsaws roar on every street as volunteers clear trees to reopen roads and protect what’s left of people’s houses. 

Roy Eckberg, a meteorologist at the National Weather Service in Green Bay, told Wisconsin Watch the tornado developed quickly as two storms merged.

“Typically, most tornadoes, you probably get a few minutes to maybe 10 minutes (of warning), but in this case, the rapid development was something I’ve never seen in northeast Wisconsin,” Eckberg said. “It was that fast. It was shocking.” 

Ben Clemmer, who lives just a mile away from severely damaged businesses including Mandersfield’s Home Bakery and Tony’s Bar, was working from home when the tornado hit. 

“It was pretty crazy looking. You know, there’s that kind of freaky storm glow that people talk about. That was very real … Seeing trees bending basically all the way over to horizontal was kind of incredible,” he said. “The surprising part, I guess, to me, is that there’s any trees left.”

Since he had a generator, Clemmer set up a phone charging station outside his house Tuesday so neighbors could maintain access to critical updates and communication. Downed power lines left the entire city – about 18,000 residents – without electricity, according to the Associated Press. 

He’s one of many community members eager to help disaster survivors. Businesses and individuals have mobilized to provide food, water and supplies and to clear fallen trees.  

Helping hands reach out

Jesse Hieb, of Muskego, drove his truck around the worst-hit parts of Menasha, handing out water and Gatorade bottles from a cooler with James Enderle, outreach pastor for Living Savior Lutheran Church. Hieb has experience with disaster relief, including when a flood hit Muskego last August.

“Pop’s (Pub) down in Muskego is trying to put together supplies from that community,” Hieb said. “They were hit with a flood last year, so they’re just trying to pay it forward. So we’re gonna go down, pick those supplies up, come back up tomorrow, do the same thing. Drive around with ice cold water, trying to just help people get through the day.” 

Local business owners transformed their restaurants into food distribution sites, like Waverly Beach Bar & Grille, which planned to give out box lunches from 1 to 4 p.m. daily through Thursday. 

Even though the restaurant wasn’t hit by the tornado, Operations Director Dion Block said many employees were impacted, and residents began using the space as a temporary shelter while waiting to return to their homes. He ordered 500 box lunches per day from his supplier Monday night and mobilized his staff to hand out meals and water on Tuesday.

“We range from people who just lost something like a fence or a tree that damaged their house to … multiple employees whose families lost their home,” Block said. 

Tornado survivors with no place to stay were bused to Christ the Rock Community Church, which continues to provide overnight shelter. 

Emlyn Thomas of Operation BBQ Relief, a nonprofit disaster relief organization, gave out bratwurst at a tent just outside Christ the Rock. He was serving food at a National Night Out event in Chilton on Monday evening when he heard news of the tornado. He immediately packed the leftovers, drove to the Appleton area and served first responders. 

“Tornadoes usually are very narrow in their focus; it’s a line,” Thomas said. “This was not that narrow. This was pretty wide. I have never seen a firehouse destroyed. Station 41 was leveled. So this is in some ways unprecedented.”

Operation BBQ Relief began in 2011 after an EF5 tornado hit Joplin, Missouri, and now deploys volunteers to disasters across the country to provide barbecue meals to storm victims and first responders. Thomas said his crew will stay outside Christ the Rock until Thursday at minimum. 

“We call it the one hot meal that matters,” Thomas said. “Some of these folks, short of it being you lose a kid, this is the worst day of their life. They’ve lost everything. Your wedding pictures are in somebody’s yard 25 miles away. Every possession you had is gone. We can show up and we can give them just a couple of minutes reprieve from all this.”

Chris Ghobrial, owner of 18 Acres Food Truck, drove up about an hour and a half from Watertown and was giving out smashburgers outside of Christ the Rock on Tuesday. 

“It’s just part of our outreach program to give back to the communities that are in need, especially because we’ve been blessed with what we have and want to reciprocate the blessings,” Ghobrial said. 

‘Learning to cope’

A curfew remains in effect from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. for the village of Fox Crossing and the city of Menasha. A boil water advisory also remains in effect for some Fox Crossing water utility customers. As of Wednesday morning, crews restored electricity to parts of Menasha, but thousands of Outagamie and Winnebago county residents still lacked power.

Two days after the tornado, Clemmer said the community is grappling with the long-term implications of rebuilding. 

“There’s lots to do, and yet sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do about it,” Clemmer said.

“We’ve started to transition from the initial shock of the event to now shifting more fully into a recovery mode. It’s just kind of learning to cope, I guess, with the new situation, … what do you have to do to … continue moving forward.” 

Officials are asking nonresidents to avoid traveling to Menasha and not to self-deploy to affected areas. Winnebago County officials are circulating a resource guide with information on cooling and charging sites, food, Wi-Fi centers, shelters, medical equipment and ways to donate. Volunteers can sign up to be officially deployed at Volunteer Fox Cities or in person at 1478 Midway Road.

Miranda Dunlap contributed reporting to this story.

Volunteers mobilize across Fox Cities after tornado is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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In Milwaukee at H.W. Longfellow School’s Community Learning Center, which is operated by the South Side nonprofit Journey House, staff are always finding new ways to immerse students in art and culture.

To help, Cherise Myers, Journey House director of community partnerships, said the nonprofit utilizes state Child Care Bridge payments to bring in instructors specializing in art, dance, digital media and more.

Now Longfellow and other Milwaukee Public Schools-based before- and after-school programs must grapple with how to continue exposing students who don’t often get exposure to art while losing thousands of dollars in stabilization payments.

“This is kind of putting the nail in the coffin,” Myers said. “Not being able to have the money to contract or work with these opportunities.”

The Child Care Bridge Payments Program was the state’s temporary solution to the federal government sunsetting Child Care Counts, a monthly federal child care stabilization program born out of the pandemic that supported nearly 1,400 child care providers in the city of Milwaukee. 

The Wisconsin Legislature budgeted for a year of Child Care Bridge payments, which ended last month. 

Journey House received over $6,300 from the state in 2026 to support the Longfellow Community Learning Center. About 90 MPS-based before- and after-school programs collectively received $1.2 million in 2025.

Activities to be cut

Milwaukee Recreation, which received Child Care Bridge funding to operate child care as part of its programming at MPS locations, has struggled to attract and retain high-quality staff with competitive wages.

The monthly Child Care Counts and later state Child Care Bridge funding were critical in raising wages and giving employee bonuses, Community Learning Center coordinator Leighton Cooper said. 

Cooper, who coordinates Community Learning Centers through Milwaukee Recreation, said the funding helped staff stay longer at their programs overall.

“It’s causing us less and less to have to go out and find and recruit more and more staff to operate our programs,” he said. 

Now that Child Care Counts and Child Care Bridge payments have ended, Cooper said Milwaukee Recreation may have to cut funding for some supplies and activities, stop giving bonuses and cut staff positions beyond the required ratios from the Wisconsin Department of Children and Families.

“Our staff wages certainly can’t be changed,” Cooper said. “Staff are paid and that’s going to help us to keep staff in spaces.”

Journey House received less funding than other Community Learning Centers, and Myers said the organization already can’t always compete with wages at other schools.  

Myers said the ended funding may not affect new employees who were hired on starting pay, but veteran employees may leave if pay drops. Many already rely on other jobs to make ends meet, she said. 

Still, Myers said the money helped Journey House bring in instructors from local colleges, universities and community organizations to lead activities because those instructors aren’t always free.

Myers said Journey House programming depends on student needs, but the organization runs chess and Lego clubs, flag football, basketball and cheerleading classes, painting and metal classes and more.

500 programs across state losing funds

Across Milwaukee, about 90 MPS-based Community Learning Centers and before- and after-school camps received $1.2 million in 2025, according to Wisconsin Department of Children and Families data. 

Randy Neve, lead of the Wisconsin Out of School Time Alliance, estimates more than 500 before- and after-school programs serving school-aged children statewide are losing monthly stabilization payments. Milwaukee’s MPS-based programs are among them.

Many of the providers who received state and federal stabilization payments were early-childhood centers serving infants and toddlers, NNS reported in June. 

But Neve said these programs, including the ones across MPS, serve thousands of 4- to 12-year-olds. The loss of stabilization payments will affect that population of children and families. 

“In the long run, the kids are the ones that lose out and are hurt,” Neve said.

Push for the state

The state budgeted for one year of Child Care Bridge payments in the biennial budget. 

Legislators including state Sen. LaTonya Johnson, who represents District 6 on Milwaukee’s North Side, proposed SB 322 to support child care providers, but the bill didn’t get a hearing, NNS reported. 

Neve said the Wisconsin Out of School Time Alliance is working with other organizations to advocate for greater funding for before- and after-school programs like the one Journey House hosts at Longfellow. He and other partners are educating policymakers about what the loss of this funding will mean for providers and families. 

Myers said many of the families at Longfellow are already struggling with the rising cost of living, and the loss of stabilization payments will ultimately hurt students and families. 

“Things are tough, and it’s sad to say that this is just going to make things tougher,” Myers said.

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Alex Klaus is the education solutions reporter for the Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service and a corps member of Report for America, a national service program that places journalists in local newsrooms to report on under-covered issues and communities. Report for America plays no role in editorial decisions in the NNS newsroom.

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Jonathan Aguilar is a visual journalist at Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service who is supported through a partnership between CatchLight Local and Report for America.

After-school programs lose thousands each month as child care stabilization funding ends is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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• UW Health leaders created a new company called WorkForward to help health care systems and state agencies nationwide create their own apprenticeship programs. 
• UW Health officials started offering apprenticeships to their employees in 2018. 
• The program has helped the company fill entry-level roles and retain existing staff while filling gaps for in-demand positions. 
• But experts say apprenticeships aren’t a silver bullet: They require clinical staff to supervise apprentices; employers have to pay staff for hours they’re in school; and each state has its own regulations for apprenticeships.

Violet LaClair was ready to leave her job. 

As a certified nursing assistant at UW Health in Madison, she used the skills she developed while caring for her dying grandmother for nine years. Her co-workers had supported her through her gender transition. She’d even won an award for providing “extraordinary” care. 

She loved her workplace, but after four years, she wanted a change.

“I felt like I’d done it all,” LaClair said. “I felt like at some point I needed to challenge myself more.” 

She thought about going back to school, but that didn’t seem doable. She was already in her 40s and didn’t have time or money to spend.

Then she learned she could get trained to be a medical assistant for free, while working, through an apprenticeship program UW Health started in 2018. She pays no school costs, and she gets paid for the time she spends in class. 

Three days a week, she works at the company’s Union Corners clinic, where she gets patients situated, takes blood pressure, flushes ears and more. 

“I can pretty much do anything the doctor asked me to,” LaClair said. Two days a week, she takes classes on pharmacology, laboratory procedures, and law and ethics.

“I think the program is great,” LaClair said. “It’s given me a whole new chapter in my life, and something to be excited about.” 

Opportunities like these are novel, but increasingly common. The idea is simple: Maybe the country’s next nurses, surgical technologists and medical assistants are already working in hospitals and clinics. The people who’ve spent years booking appointments or drawing blood might jump at the chance to train for new careers — if their employers will help them do it. 

UW Health now offers apprenticeship options for 17 professions, including surgical techs, pharmacy technicians, respiratory therapists and registered nurses. Apprentices pay nothing for their course work, and they get paid to be in class.

To date, more than 1,000 apprentices have graduated. 

Bridgett Willey, who oversaw the launch of those apprenticeships, said they’ve helped fill a critical gap. Wisconsin colleges alone just aren’t graduating enough students to meet the needs of the three major health systems in southern Wisconsin, Willey said. 

The popular programs, which attract far more applicants than they can accommodate, have helped the company fill entry-level roles and hold onto existing staff. Before it began offering apprenticeships, as many as 3 in 10 positions for medical assistants, nursing assistants and pharmacy technicians were unfilled, Willey said. Today, it’s around 1 in 10. 

“We’ve increased our supply by growing our own and training our own folks,” Willey said. 

UW Health isn’t the only health system trying this model. Apprenticeships, once a rarity in health care, have become increasingly common at hospitals and clinics nationwide.

But offering this kind of on-the-job training isn’t always easy. Now, UW Health plans to use what it’s learned to help other states overcome the financial and bureaucratic barriers that can stand in the way. In May, the health system announced it created a separate company called WorkForward to help health systems and state agencies elsewhere set up apprenticeships. Willey, who directs that new project, thinks it’s the first such initiative by a U.S. health care company.

The health care apprenticeship surge

Historically, apprenticeships have been a key on-ramp to technical trades like plumbing and carpentry, allowing trainees to earn as they learn.

Now, apprenticeships are flourishing in U.S. hospitals and clinics, too. In just five years, the number of registered apprentices in the health care field has grown by more than 40%, according to the U.S. Department of Labor, as employers have expanded existing programs and others have started new ones. 

The boom comes as demand for health care workers has shot up across the country, triggered by the growing needs of an aging population and a wave of longtime health care workers retiring. By 2038, the country will be short about 109,000 registered nurses, 61,000 physical therapists, 33,000 pharmacy technicians and 13,000 respiratory therapists, according to projections by the National Center for Health Workforce Analysis.

Meanwhile, vocational and on-the-job training is becoming increasingly popular across the board, said Susan Skillman, senior principal research scientist at the University of Washington Center for Health Workforce Studies. 

“Apprenticeships in general are growing,” Skillman said. “We’re kind of in that place in the nation where the pendulum is moving away from four-year college degrees.”

Staff seize opportunity to advance

Some health apprenticeships last months while others last years. At UW Health, apprentices training to become medical assistants finish in 10 months while future registered nurses train for four years.

No matter the length or industry, all apprenticeships involve a combination of on-the-job training and classroom instruction. In the case of Wisconsin’s registered apprentices, who are approved through the state’s Department of Workforce Development, employers must pay apprentices for the time they spend in class. In some cases, the employer pays for the apprentices’ school costs, too. 

At UW Health, the employer covers tuition. The health system’s staff also coordinate the apprentices’ work and school schedules to avoid conflicts. 

Those were big selling points for Brianna Matheson, 35, who had worked as a medical assistant for 12 years when she learned last spring that UW Health was starting a three-year surgical tech apprenticeship. She’d spent time in the operating room before, and she liked helping with clinical procedures.

“I was just ready for something more,” Matheson said. “I was in clinics for so long, doing the same thing for so long. I wanted to learn again, be a student again, and be a novice.”

When the application opened, she was the first to apply. 

“I had kind of given up on the idea of going back to school because I, like so many others, need full-time income, and I didn’t really want to give up all of my free time to work full time and go to school in the evenings and weekends,” said Matheson, who now processes and delivers supplies to the operating room at Madison’s University Hospital. 

Not only does she not pay tuition, but the Department of Workforce Development offers a stipend for scrubs, reimburses mileage to and from school, and even covers some daycare costs for apprentices with kids, Matheson said. 

The position also let Matheson keep her prior $25 hourly wage, reflecting the raises she’d earned during more than a decade on the job. When Matheson graduates in May 2028, she’ll earn surgical tech wages, which range from around $30 to $44 an hour, according to current UW Health job listings.

“I would not have been going back to school at this point in life to pursue this without the support of specifically the apprenticeship program that UW Health is offering,” Matheson said. “I wouldn’t have done it on my own.”

Apprenticeships attract new job applicants

Offering apprenticeships could help health systems draw entry-level job applicants like 25-year-old DeForest native Alex Lippman. 

Lippman trained as a certified nursing assistant in high school, then worked at a skilled nursing facility in Madison. He started college at Arizona State University with plans to become a doctor, but moved back to Wisconsin when his grandmother fell ill in his sophomore year. He wanted to continue his education but figured he’d missed his chance.

Then, in 2023, UW Health announced it was starting the state’s first apprenticeship for registered nurses. That apprenticeship, like all of UW Health’s multiyear apprenticeships that lead to degrees, are open only to employees who’ve worked for the system for at least six months. 

“I had a plan of trying to get into this program because going back to school on my own was no longer feasible,” Lippman said. He got a job as a certified nursing assistant and began the apprenticeship the next year. 

Today he takes classes at Madison College and works three night shifts a week caring for patients with brain and spine injuries in University Hospital’s neuro intensive care unit. He’s on track to graduate in 2028.

UW Health’s shorter training programs, meanwhile, are open to new applicants as well as current employees. Already, some have finished one and moved onto another, looking to advance their careers, Willey said.

“What we’re seeing is that people come in through one of our entry-level (apprenticeship) programs like medical assistant or nursing assistant, get their feet under them working in that capacity, and then now they’re applying for our degreed registered apprenticeship programs,” Willey said.

This isn’t the first time the company has built its own pipeline of health care workers. In 2013, Willey started a program called Health Occupations and Professions Exploration, or HOPE, where high school students spend a Saturday learning to do CPR, place a breathing tube in a mannequin, and more. The goal, Willey said, is to show students the range of careers available in health care. The program has trained about 6,500 students.

How much can the model grow?

Apprenticeships offer a unique way to address workforce shortages and help employees move up on the job, said Andy MacCracken, who coordinates health workforce planning for North Carolina at the NC Center on the Workforce for Health. That, he said, is one reason the number of apprentices and apprenticeships in the health care field has soared in recent years. 

Still, he said, it’s not clear exactly how much of the health worker shortage can be solved through apprenticeships. 

“We need to have a realistic view about what we’re actually aiming for when deploying apprenticeships as a solution,” MacCracken said. “I think apprenticeships are a really helpful tool in the toolbox. They’re not the only one.”

One challenge: It’s expensive to pay the clinical staff needed to supervise apprentices, so it can be hard for health system leaders to make the business case to their boards. Even health systems that embrace apprenticeships may not be able to accept as many apprentices as they’d like. 

UW Health pays for its apprenticeship program with a mix of its own funds, private donations and public funds, though Willey said the latter is usually only available for starting up a new program.  

Still, there are always far more applicants than openings. When the registered nursing apprenticeship launched in 2023, 200 employees applied for 16 slots. Last year, 70 people applied for 40 medical assistant apprenticeships.

Another challenge: Each state has its own laws about what counts as an apprenticeship and what standards an employer must meet when offering one. Likewise, the regulations for each profession may vary from state to state too. And then there are the accrediting agencies that approve educational programs, which are still getting used to the idea that students might get paid for their clinical training hours.

Willey said WorkForward will publish research on apprenticeship approaches that work, lobby for resources to support such programs and help other states identify potential funding sources. The company is a nonprofit, she said, which will apply for private and public grants. It will not receive direct funding from UW Health. 

Currently, she said, WorkForward is working in Massachusetts with Tufts Medicine and Mass General Brigham — the state’s largest health care employer — and 12 of the state’s community and technical colleges.

“It would be great if we could take the solutions that we’ve built and spread (them at) scale across the U.S. … Health care continues to be a driver of new jobs for the U.S. economy,” Willey said, “and we have an aging population who needs more care, and so we need to be addressing these things now.”

MacCracken said he hasn’t heard of another health care employer taking on this role, but he thinks it makes sense, as employers may be more willing to listen to other employers. 

In North Carolina, he said, he’s already seen how a few model programs can pave the way for others. 

“I think because of the successes of some of the early adopters who have put these programs in action, we’re seeing great results, and so that’s helping inspire more action and scalability and replication.” MacCracken said. 

Natalie Yahr reports on pathways to success statewide for Wisconsin Watch, working in partnership with Open Campus. Email her at nyahr@wisconsinwatch.org.

Can Wisconsin’s health apprenticeships become a national model? UW Health thinks so is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Several U.S. states are experiencing an outbreak of cyclosporiasis, a stomach infection that causes frequent, watery, “explosive” diarrhea. More than 5,000 cases have been reported as of July 16 across the country, according to several state health departments, with most cases in Michigan and New York. 

At least 61 cases had been reported in Wisconsin, most of them linked to international travel.

The infection doesn’t transmit from person to person: It’s spread through eating food or drinking water that has been contaminated with feces. While public health officials are still investigating the exact source of the current outbreak, previous outbreaks have been caused by contaminated lettuce, raspberries, cilantro, and basil. 

Cyclosporiasis usually spreads more easily in the summer because of the heat, given that “the parasite in the stool, in the environment, and in vegetables within high temperatures can become infectious,” Dr. Peter Chin-Hong, an infectious disease specialist and associate dean at the University of California, San Francisco, tells Public Good News.

Read on to learn more about the current cyclosporiasis outbreak.

What are the symptoms?

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the most common symptoms of cyclosporiasis include: 

• Frequent, watery diarrhea
• Weight loss
• Fatigue
• Nausea
• Cramping
• Loss of appetite
• Bloating
• Increased gas

Less common symptoms include vomiting, headaches, and low-grade fever. 

What should I do if I have symptoms? 

If you have symptoms, stay hydrated, and contact your health care provider. The only way to diagnose cyclosporiasis is to get your stool tested. If your sample is positive, Dr. Chin-Hong explains that your doctor may prescribe an antibiotic to treat it.

What is causing this outbreak? 

Michigan has reported over 4,000 cases as of July 16. Dr. Natasha Bagdasarian, chief medical executive for the state, tells PGN that “based on our early signals, that there is some implication that lettuce, bagged lettuce or bagged salad kits could be involved in this outbreak.”

However, other foods have not been completely ruled out, and the exact source of the outbreak in other states is unclear.

How can I protect myself from cyclosporiasis? 

Chin-Hong explains that you don’t have to avoid eating all fruits and vegetables, especially if you live in a state where cases are low. 

However, if you live in a state where cases are high, including Michigan, New York, Illinois, Kentucky, North Carolina, and Texas, there are some precautions you can take. 

In Michigan, Bagdasarian says, “if you are going to eat a salad or lettuce right now, the safest way to do that is to buy a whole head of lettuce to remove the outer layers and remove any damaged parts, and then of course washing.” Bagged lettuce is harder to wash again at home, while whole heads let you remove the outer leaves where contamination is more likely.

Additionally, she says that “if it’s something that can be peeled, you should peel it, [and] if it’s something that can be cooked, cooking is actually the best way to reduce your risk.”

Overall, the CDC says that to prevent cyclosporiasis, you should take the following precautions when it comes to fresh produce: 

• Wash your hands with soap and water before touching raw fruits and vegetables.
• Wash all fruits and vegetables before eating or cooking (However, keep in mind that washing fruits and vegetables can reduce dirt and some contaminants, but it may not completely remove cyclospora.) 
• Cut damaged areas of fruits and vegetables.
• Refrigerate cooked, cut, or peeled fruits and vegetables within two hours.

What are the differences between cyclosporiasis and other types of food poisoning (caused by bacteria like E. coli or salmonella)? 

The main difference, according to Chin-Hong, is that cyclosporiasis can last longer and a person can get better and then get symptoms again. However, similarly to other types of food poisoning, the frequent diarrhea can cause dehydration, which, he adds, can lead to people being hospitalized.

Another difference is that unlike other similar illnesses, cyclosporiasis symptoms don’t begin right away. Most people become sick about one week after eating contaminated food or drinking contaminated water, though it can take anywhere from two days to about two weeks.

Who’s most at risk? 

Bagdasarian says that people who face a higher risk with cyclosporiasis include those who are immunocompromised and people who are at higher risk for dehydration, including very young children and older adults. 

She adds that “if you have people in your family, in your household who fall into any of those categories, it would be wise to be extra cautious about the food you’re eating, including when you go out to eat at a restaurant or a fast food chain.”

For more information, talk to your health care provider or local health department.

This story was produced and originally published by Public Good News, a nonprofit newsroom dedicated to community health. It partners with trusted local voices throughout the U.S. to distribute accurate, accessible, and inclusive health news in English and Spanish.

Disclosure: The Michigan Department of Health and Human Services is a partner of The Public Good Projects, the organization that owns Public Good News.

What to know about cyclosporiasis is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Wisconsinites breathed record-breaking levels of air pollution Thursday as wildfire smoke from northern Minnesota and Canada wafted across much of the Great Lakes region and the Northeast. Many monitoring stations across the state recorded pollution considered hazardous for the first time in at least 16 years — the span covered by most monitoring stations’ records.

As of 8 a.m. on Friday, Air Quality Index, or AQI, levels in Madison had peaked above 450 — far above the AQI’s 301 threshold for “hazardous” air quality, where everyone — not just sensitive groups — should take precautions to avoid breathing dangerous air. 

Milwaukee’s AQI reached 644 earlier on Thursday — more than twice the hazardous threshold. Air quality deteriorated even further in northwestern Wisconsin, with the index reaching 967 along the Minnesota border earlier in the day. 

Many Wisconsin communities, including Milwaukee, Waukesha, Odanah and Appleton, were still observing AQI over the 301 threshold Friday morning.

The index categories typically run only from zero to 500.

Thursday’s pollution surpassed levels once considered unprecedented. Before Canadian wildfire smoke pushed the AQI to record highs across Wisconsin in July 2023, cities including Madison, Milwaukee and Waukesha had not recorded an AQI above 200 since at least 2010, according to a Wisconsin Watch analysis of historical AQI data.

But wildfire smoke has elevated air pollution in Wisconsin each summer since 2023. Major cities have periodically recorded higher AQI readings around July, though Thursday’s levels were the first to surpass those recorded in 2023.

“This is a hazardous air quality episode that we have not experienced before,” Craig Czarnecki, air management outreach coordinator for the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, said in an email.

DataWatch: Wisconsin air pollution reaches record highs as wildfire smoke engulfs the state is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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On Milwaukee’s North Side, women 40 and up are coming together to jump double Dutch. Members say that beyond the ropes they are building a sisterhood, strengthening their health and becoming confident in aging.

40+ Double Dutch Club is a nonprofit founded in Chicago by Pamela Robinson in 2016 that uses double Dutch and other fitness activities to encourage wellness, sisterhood, mental health and more for women over 40.

“It amazes me how God can use something as simple as a plastic clothesline to connect women all over the world,” said Robinson, who is also the group’s CEO and board president. 

Robinson, 55, launched the organization after discussing the idea with her friend Catrina Dyer-Taylor. At the time she was battling depression. 

“My husband and I were about to get divorced, my oldest kids were grown and I just had my youngest one in the house,” Robinson said. “I needed to find a happy place.”

She promoted the meetup on social media, and many of her friends and community members came out to support her.

“I remember telling (Dyer-Taylor) that if no one came then we’d tie the ropes to a fence and jump together,” Robinson said. “However, we never had to do that because our friends came out.” 

Since being founded, the organization has expanded into hundreds of subclubs nationwide, including Milwaukee’s. 

“I knew that God wanted me to do something and it’s given me purpose and he has put me on a path where 40+ Double Dutch is a part of that,” said Angela Scott, captain and founder of Milwaukee’s double Dutch subclub.

Launching the Milwaukee subclub

Scott, 54, established the 40+ Double Dutch subclub in Milwaukee in 2024 after discovering the organization on Facebook. She took weekend trips to Chicago and sometimes Texas to participate with women of the club.

“The feeling I got from the ladies when I entered the gym was like I’ve known them all my life,” Scott said. 

As a breast cancer survivor, Scott said she was glad to have found something that brought her comfort that wasn’t a traditional gym space. 

“Double Dutching is a full body workout, and I don’t like the gym, but I knew I needed something to keep my body moving and to keep cancer out of my body,” Scott said.

Once officially joining 40+ Double Dutch, Scott talked to Robinson about bringing a subclub to Milwaukee.

“She said that they had been wanting one in Milwaukee, they just had no one that was interested and committed,” Scott said.

Milwaukee’s subclub now consists of 37 members. Among them is Scott’s mother, Shirley Tomlinson, 76, who is the first and oldest member.

“I feel like my family has grown here and that’s a very positive thing for a person my age,” Tomlinson said. “It helps keep me feeling young, and there’s a lot of support in it.”

Tomlinson said she joined the club after hearing about her daughter’s Chicago experience and watching the film “Beyond the Ropes: The 40+ Double Dutch Club Documentary.“

Though Tomlinson doesn’t jump double Dutch, she does other things for the subclub like record keeping, videography, planning birthday celebrations and more. 

“I do everything I can because I’m my daughter’s ride or die,” she said.

Reliving childhood memories

Scott said double Dutch gives her a joyous nostalgia from growing up, especially as she learned how to double Dutch from her aunt who was like a big sister.

“If you were a girl that jump-roped, then you know it takes you back to that space,” Scott said. 

When the Milwaukee subclub appears at local events like the Juneteenth parade, residents typically will jump in the ropes with smiles and recall memories as they walk down the streets.

“As you watch us grow, you can see God’s hand in it,” Tomlinson said.

The women of Milwaukee’s subclub meet from 6:30 to 8 p.m. every Wednesday at Abundant Faith Church of Integrity, 7830 W. Good Hope Road.

The meet typically begins with a stretch, then leads to open play that includes dances and songs to let them double Dutch, hula hoop or play a rhythmic game. 

One fitness activity recreated by 40+ Double Dutch is African Hopscotch, which includes members jumping to a song called “Double Dutch Bus” by Frankie Smith and sometimes holding pompoms. 

To end the session, members close with a double Dutch hymn followed by a circle of prayer. 

“We hold hands and then we sing the song,” Scott said. “Regardless of what meet you go to each one will have the same format.”

Building a strong sisterhood

Scott said the relationships being built at the club remind her of the organization’s mission. 

“Part of the mission is friendship, fitness, fun and fellowship,” she said. “All of those things resonate with me and in my spirit because it’s a sisterhood that’s based on God’s direction.”

When away from the ropes, members try to support each other in different ways.

“There are several of the ladies in our club that have businesses, and we’ll do anything to support them,” Scott said. 

For Tomlinson, who experienced a few health crises this year, it brought relief knowing that there was a sisterhood standing behind her.

“They reached out to me and let me know they were praying for me,” she said. “It’s like having a big family of daughters.”

Achieving long-term goals

Within the next few years, Scott hopes to see the subclub grow in membership and the women begin to intentionally take more time for themselves.

“I truly believe that a healthy and strong woman makes a healthy and strong world because we are the mothers of this world,” she said. “If the woman is not healthy mentally, physically or spiritually, then the world is not healthy.”

Another goal of hers is to visit with incarcerated women. 

“For whatever reason that they’re there, I just want to take them out of that space for just 30 to 40 minutes,” she said. 

Tomlinson said it amazes her to see her daughter lead, receive support from the community and promote health to other women. 

“It’s been wonderful watching her grow and watching how dedicated she is because that’s a big responsibility,” she said.

How to join 40+ Double Dutch Club

If you are a woman over 40 and interested in joining, click here to find a subclub near you and find details about weekly meetups.

Membership is $120 and includes a digital ID card, access to all nationwide subclubs, subclub support and more. 

Scott said the summer has been the busiest time for the organization and wants to remind women that you don’t have to jump to be a part of it. 

“People are starting to realize we’re in the city and we like it that way because the more women that know then the more that can be impacted by what we have to offer,” she said.

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Jonathan Aguilar is a visual journalist at Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service who is supported through a partnership between CatchLight Local and Report for America.

‘You can see God’s hand in it’: How Milwaukee women are building a double Dutch community through sisterhood and fitness is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Wildfires in northern Minnesota and Canada have caused some of the worst air quality on record for Wisconsin. The entire state remains under an Air Quality Advisory for fine particulate matter from wildfire smoke until noon on Friday, according to the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources. 

As of 2 p.m. Thursday, most of the state’s air quality was in the “very unhealthy” or “hazardous” Air Quality category. That means that everyone, not just sensitive groups, should avoid outdoor activities, the DNR said.

In areas near Superior, the Air Quality Index rose above 800, while parts of eastern Wisconsin including Milwaukee and Kenosha measured above 650. National Weather Service meteorologist Benjamin Sheppard told Wisconsin Watch these levels are some of the worst on record. 

“What we’ve heard from some of our partners is that the Air Quality Index values that we’re seeing are definitely either never before seen or up there,” Sheppard said. “I’ve been working here for three years, and I’ve seen nothing anywhere near that high.” 

Index values in Wisconsin have exceeded the records set by wildfires in June 2023, DNR spokesperson Craig Czarnecki said in an email, noting that the figures “will still need to be quality assured.” At that time, levels peaked at 273, which means concentrations in Superior and the Milwaukee area have more than doubled. 

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends setting up a portable air cleaner or filter in a room that can be closed off from outside air and setting your air conditioner  to recirculate mode if possible or close the outdoor intake damper. 

Fine particulate matter, also known as PM2.5, is a main pollutant released from wildfire smoke that can enter the bloodstream. Dr. Joan Schiller, a member of Healthy Climate Wisconsin and retired medical oncologist, told WPR this can exacerbate lung conditions.

“I don’t think people realize how far away you can be from the fire itself and still have health problems,” Schiller said. “These health problems typically manifest themselves as respiratory problems, such as exacerbation of COPD or asthma or emphysema.” 

How can I check the air quality in my area?

The Environmental Protection Agency monitors the air around the country and compiles an air quality index, or AQI.

Here’s what to know about the index and how to keep tabs on your area, especially in U.S. regions dealing with smoke from Canadian wildfires.

What does the air quality index measure? 

The index rates how clean or polluted the air is each day. The EPA uses this measure to keep tabs on five kinds of air pollutants. The main concern from the wildfire smoke is fine particle pollution. These particles are tiny enough to get deep into the lungs. They can cause short-term problems like coughing and itchy eyes and, in the long run, can affect the lungs and heart.

What do the numbers and colors mean? 

The index categories typically only run from zero to 500 – although levels have reached well above 500 in multiple parts of the state. The higher the number, the worse the air quality. That range is broken down into six color-coded categories. Green or yellow — in the zero to 100 range — the air is pretty clear. Once it gets up to orange, the air quality could be a concern for sensitive groups like children, older adults or those with health conditions.

In the red and purple zones, the air quality is considered unhealthy for everyone.

And if the index gets to maroon — at 301 or above — pollution levels are hazardous.

At these high levels, take precautions to avoid breathing in the dangerous air. That can mean reducing your outdoor activities, running air purifiers inside and wearing a well-fitting mask like an N95 when you’re outside.

What’s the air quality right now? 

Check AirNow.gov, which updates every hour. The site shows a real-time map of the air quality across the country and also includes a forecast for the day ahead. The map pulls in measurements from a network of air monitoring stations across the country. States and cities may also offer more local guidance.

How long will smoke last in Wisconsin? 

According to Sheppard and the National Weather Service (NWS), a southerly wind on Friday means smoke is anticipated to retreat from west to east  – likely bringing an end to the advisory for much of the state. 

“With those southwest winds, the air is going to get kind of clearer and healthier in a southwest to northeast manner,” Sheppard said. “Areas further north and east in Wisconsin are going to be most likely to hang on to that smoke.” 

Areas along Lake Superior may also need to have the advisory extended, NWS said. But Sheppard said winds could bring back a second wave of smoke to the rest of the state as soon as Saturday. 

“The weather models tentatively are telling us that the second batch of smoke could be as strong, or perhaps even worse,” he said. 

The Associated Press contributed reporting, as did Hongyu Liu of Wisconsin Watch.

Wildfire smoke brings hazardous air quality in Wisconsin. Here’s how to stay safe is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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• Newcap was a leading provider of homeless services for 10 counties: Brown, Florence, Marinette, Menominee, Oconto, Shawano, Forest, Langlade, Oneida and Vilas.
• The organization’s abrupt closure in March left counties scrambling to fill the gaps. 
• In Shawano County, for example, residents no longer have a year-round homeless shelter. 
• Furthermore, Newcap took the lead in three regional homeless coalitions, and its staff served in key roles, fulfilling responsibilities for Coordinated Entry, the point-in-time count and federal and state funding. 
• Newcap’s Brown County federal grants have been transferred to House of Hope and Foundations Health & Wellness.

It’s been more than three months since the anti-poverty nonprofit Newcap closed, laying off 90 employees and leaving more than 100 low-income households on the brink of homelessness. For Shawano County residents, that means losing their only year-round homeless shelter. 

At Safe Haven domestic abuse shelter in Shawano, Executive Director Mindy Lohff started getting dozens more crisis calls and observing more unsheltered people on the streets or in wooded areas.

“We’ve seen an increase in our shelter stays directly, we’ve seen an increase in the calls for looking for shelter,” Lohff said. “Unfortunately, if they aren’t actively fleeing domestic violence or sexual violence, they’re not eligible (to) stay here, and there’s nowhere for them to go in Shawano County.” 

It’s not just that Lohff has nowhere to direct unsheltered people in Shawano. Newcap was a leading provider of homeless services for 10 counties — including Brown, Florence, Marinette, Menominee, Oconto, Shawano, Forest, Langlade, Oneida and Vilas. In 2025, Newcap had the capacity to provide nearly 250 beds across those counties, from emergency shelter to permanent housing. 

These mostly rural counties have been rocked by Newcap’s abrupt closure March 31, which came amid financial challenges and leadership changes. Former CEO Cheryl Detrick was placed on leave shortly before the nonprofit closed its doors and filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, revealing that it owed nearly $4 million to creditors. 

The nonprofit’s closure reveals how the loss of a single agency can have a staggering effect, especially in rural areas where resources for the unhoused are already few and far between. As a federally designated regional leader — or Community Action Agency — Newcap held the keys to funding for many programs and can’t be easily replaced by a single organization. 

Working together on shelter solutions

Shawano Area Matthew 25 is a seasonal overnight homeless shelter open from Oct. 15 to May 15. Newcap’s closure means Shawano County residents no longer have a homeless shelter to turn to during warmer months. Newcap also led Shawano’s homeless coalition, meaning it controlled state funding for SAM25. Executive Director Kendra Brusewitz said she’s still waiting on $12,000 in funds. 

Over the summer, SAM25’s resource center is still open, providing food, showers, laundry and other assistance. 

“We just continue to see an increase in the numbers coming through our resource center,” Brusewitz said. “Not having a place to refer people, families to in the area during the summer months is challenging.”

Without Newcap, nonprofit leaders realized there was no longer a way for Shawano County residents to access Coordinated Entry – a prioritization list that matches people with housing resources throughout the state based on their eligibility. 

Safe Haven and SAM25 teamed up with Shawano Area United Way to form a coalition, educating local officials on housing needs and brainstorming solutions. Brusewitz and Lohff took charge of signing people up for Coordinated Entry. 

“We’ve actually had clients getting pulled for the housing assistance because they wanted to move to other counties, so that’s been great,” Lohff said. 

They’ve also applied for grants to fund a housing coordinator for Shawano County and collaborated with Bonduel middle and high schools to make hygiene kits. The coalition’s efforts aren’t funded, nor are they part of anyone’s job description. But Shawano community leaders feel it’s necessary.

“A lot of us have lived here, grown up here, and we’re so passionate about it, so some of (the work) may be slightly out of the scope, but it’s so important,” Lohff said.

Support for survivors

Newcap’s grants allowed victims of domestic violence in Shawano and neighboring counties to obtain permanent housing, which is vital since Safe Haven is an emergency shelter, Lohff said. So far, no agency has been identified to permanently take on the grant. 

“The financial assistance for them to be able to obtain the housing has vanished,” Lohff said. “Within the realm of domestic violence, so many of our clients experience financial abuse … and that’s one of the reasons why they don’t leave that abusive relationship, is because their abuser holds finances over their head.” 

Rainbow House, a domestic violence shelter serving Marinette and Oconto counties, was similarly left as one of the area’s only providers after Newcap closed. Executive Director Courtney Olson told Wisconsin Watch she’s received a “steady increase” in calls since then.

Like Safe Haven, Rainbow House cannot respond to general calls for housing. As it is, its waiting list for domestic violence clients continues to grow, which means ensuring their safety in other ways.

“In response to these long waits, we are working hard to keep survivors safe in their own homes whenever possible,” Olson wrote in an email. “That means offering more on the security side (cameras, cell phones, panic alarms, lock replacements, temporary restraining orders) and working with landlords to remove the person causing harm from a lease rather than displacing the survivor.”

A ‘long, slow road’

Regional Continuum of Care programs distribute federal funding for homeless shelters. Milwaukee, Dane and Racine counties have their own CoCs, while the Balance of State CoC oversees the rest of Wisconsin through regional coalitions. 

Although based in Brown County, Newcap also served as the lead agency for the Wisconsin Balance of State’s Northeast Coalition — in Florence, Marinette, Menominee, Oconto and Shawano counties — and the NWISH Coalition – made up of Forest, Langlade, Oneida, and Vilas counties. 

The loss of Newcap comes at a time when national funding for Continuum of Care programs is already uncertain. President Donald Trump’s proposed 2027 fiscal year budget would eliminate the Continuum of Care program, reducing all homeless assistance funding by $400 million. 

Meanwhile, the 2026 budget will require the Wisconsin Balance of State to compete with Continuum of Care programs nationwide for a greater portion of funding based on the Trump administration’s priorities. An estimated 1,287 people could lose their housing in Wisconsin, according to the National Alliance to End Homelessness. 

The Balance of State is acting as a temporary lead for the Northeast and NWISH coalitions, ensuring the “point-in-time” homeless count happens – an essential step to securing federal funding – and filling vacant board positions. 

Balance of State homeless systems manager Ryan Graham said they’re essentially starting from square one, and they won’t be able to replace Newcap easily. 

“Now, it’s about, ‘How do we rebuild some kind of homeless response in that area?’ because the agency that pretty much did all of that and provided the capacity to do it is no longer there,” Graham said. “They were the coalition lead, they were the point-in-time lead, they were the state funding lead.” 

Graham has been impressed by organizations like Safe Haven and SAM25 stepping up, but finding an organization qualified to take on Newcap’s responsibilities is still hard. 

“It’s going to be a long, slow road, “ Graham said. “Hopefully, it won’t be too slow, but we’re really starting from scratch in a lot of areas, especially in the Northeast and NWISH Coalition, as far as building a homeless response system.”

Federal grants transferred to Brown County nonprofits

Even in Brown County, where organizations do exist to take on Newcap’s clients, it’s still not that simple. 

When Newcap closed, the 134 households that depended on federally funded programs were immediately put at risk of homelessness. Public officials advocated to get four federal grants transferred to local organizations and waited nearly a month after Newcap’s closure to receive confirmation from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. 

House of Hope in Green Bay will take on three of the four grants, but Director of Community Engagement Beth Hudak said it’s collaborating with multiple Brown County agencies to manage cases for Newcap’s former clients. 

“One of the biggest lessons we learned … is that when one agency holds all of the funding – does all of the work – when something happens, our community is devastated by it,” Hudak said. “What we really want to make sure we’re emphasizing in the future is having many, many more organizations involved in all of this work.” 

House of Hope’s primary mission is to serve homeless youth — not to provide permanent housing for adults, which some of the grants stipulate. But according to Hudak, HUD said House of Hope was the only agency qualified to take on the grants. 

“I don’t think we really had an option … HUD said that it was either us or the contracts would go to other parts of the state,” Hudak said.  

House of Hope will personally take over a $440,000 grant for youth rapid rehousing in Brown County. Through working with other agencies, it hopes to find subrecipients for a $1.1 million permanent supportive housing grant for individuals in Brown County. 

The third grant was specifically designated for supportive housing in rural northeast Wisconsin. Hudak said House of Hope is working closely with the Balance of State’s Northeast and NWISH coalitions even though they have yet to receive access to the grant funds.

Foundations Health & Wholeness, also based in Green Bay and primarily serving youth, will take on the fourth direct federal grant from Newcap, which provides nearly $300,000 for a youth mobile outreach program. 

Jackie Baumgart, director of Foundations Youth Services, said the grant fits into the work they’re already doing: engaging with homeless youth where they’re at since their access to transportation is often limited. 

“Why we were approached for this is because we do community-based services, and we don’t have specific offices where everybody works,” Baumgart said. “So our staff are out in the community … Our hope is to have a counselor go out and do a mental health check-in with young people that wouldn’t otherwise be able to access these services.” 

The organization will also take over Coordinated Entry for the NWISH and Northeast coalitions, filling another gap left by Newcap. Baumgart said her nonprofit plans to operate with more transparency and collaboration with other organizations. 

“My vision for what to do versus what has been done is to change it up a little bit and make it a more publicly known list for housing … I really want to make sure that we are teaching other organizations how to use it, when to use it, how to take people off of it, when to put people on, so that it’s not us doing all the work,” she said. 

Moving forward

In Green Bay, Newcap’s closure has made way for a unique new homeless shelter that takes in people who have been banned from other shelters in Brown County. Although controversial, Safe Haven Hope Center received a permit in May to use one of Newcap’s former buildings to shelter 19 individuals. 

Safe Haven technically rents the property from Newcap, which means Executive Director Cathi Oreto isn’t sure if it will be able to keep the property as Newcap liquidates its assets. But for now, she’s moving forward with a harm-reduction approach, offering a community-centered shelter with an extremely forgiving policy.

“We know that we’re going to have to ask people to leave, but when we ask them to leave, we’re going to ask them — and we have asked them — to leave for today and come back tomorrow,” Oreto said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time, 10th time, or one millionth time, our exit strategy is the same.” 

Meanwhile, a Brown County coalition is making sure the point-in-time count still happens on the night of July 22. Although Newcap led the point-in-time count for the past five years, Hudak said some Brown County Homeless and Housing Coalition members have participated for decades. 

“I think we have it pretty well handled,” Hudak said. “One of the biggest issues that we’re coming across is just sort of a lack of data transfer, so some of the more in-depth information that Newcap had, we don’t necessarily have access to because of how quickly they closed.” 

In the future, Hudak said they’ll make sure the entire coalition has access to PIT documentation, instead of just one organization. It’s part of a broader effort to build interdependence between local anti-poverty nonprofits to minimize the impact of one closing. 

That network includes community members, too. Hudak said volunteers are always needed, and anyone who cares about homelessness can provide a fresh perspective. The NWISH and Northeast coalitions are also looking for members.

“All of our coalitions are always looking for more people to be in and support the work, and you don’t have to be a service provider to do that … Having outside perspectives is hugely, hugely important for making sure that we’re doing the best work that we can for the people that we serve,” she said.

‘There’s nowhere for them to go’: Newcap closure leaves northeast Wisconsin counties scrambling to prevent more homelessness is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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In early May, as I sat waiting for a connecting flight at O’Hare, I decided to finally do something that had been on my list for far too long: schedule a checkup.

It had been years since I’d seen a primary care doctor. I had a baby the year before, and with all the pregnancy appointments, I felt like I was getting enough checkups. But when I called my clinic, I learned that I’d been away long enough to be considered a new patient, and they didn’t have space for me. 

No problem, I thought. I looked up other primary care providers on my insurance company’s website and chose one more or less at random. I called to schedule an appointment.

The person who answered the phone warned me that the doctor was booking “quite far out.” I wasn’t shocked: I’ve heard that a shortage of primary care doctors is leading to long wait times. I waited to hear just how long it would be.

I don’t recall if the next available appointment was in August or October. I do recall that it was in 2027, more than a year away.

“Let’s try someone else,” I said. I scheduled an appointment with another doctor for August 2026, about three months out. 

What about you? How long have you had to wait to see a doctor recently, and how does that wait compare with years past? 

As a pathways to success reporter, I report on how workers get trained for the jobs Wisconsin needs most. I’m interested in the steps Wisconsin is taking to help more people become primary care providers, and whether those efforts are working. Drop me a note at nyahr@wisconsinwatch.org or call or text me at ‪608-620-5610‬.

How long have you waited for a doctor’s appointment? is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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• Village programs like SAIL help older adults stay independent by connecting them with volunteers, social activities and trusted service providers.
• Members both give and receive help, creating a neighbor-to-neighbor support network that reduces isolation and helps people age in their own homes.
• Dane County’s SAIL is one of the nation’s oldest village organizations, and similar programs are expanding as communities look for new ways to support an aging population.

Lush greenery and bright flowers surround John Short’s longtime Madison home. But the 83-year-old is not the one with a green thumb. 

That belongs to a volunteer through Sharing Active Independent Lives (SAIL), who visits regularly to work in Short’s garden. It’s one benefit he receives as a member of  SAIL, a nonprofit-run network that helps older adults in Dane County find community and stay independent. 

While Short needs yardwork help, he can still drive. So he volunteers those skills, taking fellow members to appointments. Other members help with household chores while tech-savvy volunteers offer computer advice. One woman even volunteers by calling members on their birthdays. 

The network of older adults helped pioneer the village model, a national movement that encourages neighbors to support each other as they age in the communities they choose. Dane County members ages 55 and older pay sliding-scale dues to access volunteer services, social activities and a list of vetted service providers. 

SAIL launched in 2005 and is considered the country’s second-oldest village model. Now, there are 285 villages, including two others in Wisconsin, according to the Village to Village Network, which brings villages together to share best practices.

Short joined SAIL more than two years ago, becoming one of about 500 members. Aside from receiving help in his garden, he has used the village’s list of background-checked service providers to hire a handyman. 

Short didn’t mind handing off some of the home maintenance after taking care of it for nearly three decades. He’s filled his extra time by reading more books and playing more bridge. 

Members can also join regular social activities, including clubs for books and biking. Members ages 90 years and older get an additional perk: a special lunch twice each year. 

Short has yet to qualify for that invitation. He finds connection through chats during volunteer driving shifts. While he typically refrains from asking passengers their ages, he recalls that the first woman he drove was 102.

The rides, often to doctor’s appointments, have “been kind of fun,” he said.

Such joy from volunteering doesn’t surprise Christine Klotz, president of the village’s operating council. 

“You get more from SAIL when you give more,” she said. 

Klotz, 75, joined SAIL with her husband a decade ago, paying full membership dues for years despite not needing services beyond social connection.

“I just really believe in the model and believe in the concept of paying it forward,” Klotz said. “I want the organization to be strong when we need it.” 

Unlike other aging resources, members design and direct SAIL, Klotz said. “You’re joining a group of people who are committed to work together to help each other as we get older.”

Want to join a village?

Dane County residents can learn more about SAIL at sailtoday.org or by calling 608-230-4445. 

Northern Door County residents can learn more about Do Good Door County at dogooddoorcounty.org/sail or 920-333-1083.

Felician Village, a senior living community in Manitowoc, coordinates Felician Village at Home. To learn more, visit felicianvillage.org or call 920-684-7171, ext. 425.

What if you don’t live near a village? 

Check with your Aging and Disability Resource Center to learn about similar programs nearby, said Ann Albert, the executive director of AgeBetter, the nonprofit that runs SAIL. 

Places of worship, libraries and local organizations that are actively recruiting volunteers can offer similar social benefits and a sense of connection found in the village model, said Shannon Guzman, the director of housing and livable communities with AARP Public Policy Institute. 

Want to start a village? Contact the Village to Village Network for resources and guidance.

It takes a village: This Dane County community helped pioneer a national movement for aging together is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Track how Wisconsin governments are spending opioid settlement dollars is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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• Just eight local governments had spent more than half of their opioid settlement funds by the end of 2025, while 16 hadn’t spent any.
• Even with millions still available and more payments on the way, local officials are already worried about what happens when the money runs out.
• At least 17 local governments used some settlement dollars to support law enforcement.
• About a dozen counties are using funds for foster care or services aimed at preventing family separations.
• A dozen local governments identified transportation as a major barrier to accessing opioid-related services.
• Local governments reported spending more than $2 million on treatment for incarcerated people.

Local Wisconsin governments have received more than $160 million in settlement payments from drug makers, distributors and pharmacies that were sued for their role in the country’s opioid epidemic.

Wisconsin and 87 local governments are expected to receive more than $874 million by 2038, up from projections Wisconsin Watch reported in 2025. 

The Wisconsin Department of Health Services gets 30% of the state’s settlement payments and documents its spending online while updating the Legislature quarterly. 

The rest flows to 71 Wisconsin counties (all but Polk, whose board declined to join Wisconsin’s lawsuit) and 16 municipalities, which started receiving it in 2022. Each tracks and spends the funds a little differently. 

As Wisconsin Watch previously reported, it’s not always easy to follow the money. But all local governments must provide the Legislature and the Wisconsin Department of Justice annual reports that include basic accounting. Many also answer optional questions from the Wisconsin Counties Association.

Wisconsin Watch created a database with the most recently reported local government settlement spending information. Here are some trends and notable findings:

1. Money stayed in the bank. Just eight local governments had spent more than half of their opioid settlement funds by the end of 2025, while 16 hadn’t spent any.

2. Officials wonder: What happens after the money runs out? Even with millions still available and more payments on the way, local officials are already worried about what happens when the money runs out. Several local governments said the eventual end of disbursements could put staff positions and programs in jeopardy.

3. At least 17 local governments used some settlement dollars to support law enforcement. Multiple counties and municipalities hired specially trained co-responders who accompany officers on calls involving mental health or substance use issues. Other governments bought surveillance cameras, drug-checking equipment or vehicles or hired drug task force investigators.

4. Funds flowed to foster care. Counties oversee foster care and have long cited parental substance use as a driver of family separation. About a dozen counties are using funds for foster care or services aimed at preventing family separations.

5. Transportation barriers. A dozen local governments identified transportation as a major barrier to accessing opioid-related services. Several counties used settlement dollars last year to help residents travel to treatment and other services.

6. Prevention prevails. The Wisconsin Counties Association asked local governments to break their settlement spending into 10 categories. Counties reported spending the most, nearly $6 million, on prevention — defined as efforts to prevent opioid use disorder and to screen for the condition. More than a dozen local governments funded school-based prevention programs, including youth peer support and DARE. 

7. Counties spend on jail treatment. People leaving jails and prisons face a high risk of  overdose. Local governments reported spending more than $2 million on treatment for incarcerated people. The number of county jails providing medications for opioid use disorder doubled between 2021 and 2024, according to the Wisconsin Policy Forum. More than 20 governments described spending settlement dollars for jail-based programming, including several that provided medications for opioid use disorder. 

8. Early signs of progress. Many local governments cited plunging overdose rates as  success. Statewide overdoses fell by more than 42% between 2023 and 2024. More work is needed, multiple officials acknowledged, considering that opioid overdoses remain far  higher than a decade ago. Still, they see expanded access to opioid reversal medications and treatment services as something to celebrate. 

What stands out to you? Explore the database and tell us what you notice or want us to investigate — or if you have any questions. Submit a tip or email editor@wisconsinwatch.org.

Wisconsin governments have received $160 million in opioid settlement funds. Here’s where it’s going. is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Researchers from Children’s Wisconsin and the Medical College of Wisconsin found an association between motor vehicle crash injuries and firearm injuries among children and adolescents.

The findings could help inform violence prevention efforts, said Dr. Mike Levas, one of the authors of the study and a professor of pediatric emergency medicine at the Medical College of Wisconsin and Children’s Wisconsin. 

“I think that car crashes, especially in our teens and young kids, can be a marker for that increased escalation and risky behaviors or risky situations,” said Levas, who is also medical director of Project Ujima. 

Project Ujima is a violence intervention program at Children’s Wisconsin. The program works to end the cycle of violence by providing crisis intervention and other support to youths and adults who are victims of violence.

Findings of the study

Nearly one in four patients treated for a firearm injury had multiple emergency department visits for firearm, non-firearm violence or motor vehicle crash injuries during a four-year period, according to the study.

The study examined 2,614 emergency department visits for violent injuries or motor vehicle crashes involving children and adolescents ages 0 to 17 from 2018 to 2022.

Researchers found a significant association between prior motor vehicle crash injuries and later firearm injuries.

In other words, motor vehicle crash injuries can serve as a marker for increased risk of a firearm injury later on.

Interpretation of findings

Traumatic events often do not occur in isolation, said Dr. Deanna Behrens, a pediatric critical care physician and American Academy of Pediatrics spokesperson.

“We know that there are clusters of activity, like risk-taking behavior, exposure to violence and traumatic injuries, that can happen in adolescence and early adulthood,” she said.

In addition to social and environmental factors, Levas said adolescents are still developing the parts of the brain responsible for decision-making.

“Most people, as they grow, don’t make great choices all the time,” Levas said. 

These developmental realities place some responsibility on society to help young people avoid risk, he said.

“If we don’t have guardrails for them, then I think from a public health standpoint, then we’re not helping the situation, we’re not helping to prevent injury,” he said.

Levas said Children’s Wisconsin is considering whether the findings could help identify opportunities to intervene earlier.

One possibility is expanding Project Ujima. 

Currently, the program serves youths who have been shot, stabbed or physically assaulted and provides case management, mental health services, mentorship and family support.

“One of the things that we’re looking at is: Do we expand our inclusion criteria to include victims of a motor vehicle crash so that we can prevent the firearm injury from happening altogether?” Levas said.

Important to note is that the program doesn’t just serve the direct victim of violence.

“We wrap our arms around the entire family, so not just the immediate victim, but we also support the entire household,” said Brooke Cheaton, manager of Project Ujima. “Those conversations are centered very much around concerns, whether it be for safety, for physical health, for mental well-being, emotional well-being, social supports.”

These types of support are necessary because violence can profoundly change the lives of victims, families and communities, Cheaton said.

“We are always talking about prevention, and early intervention is key to reducing injury and mortality,” said Maria Beyer, one of the authors of the study and a community health evaluation manager at Children’s Wisconsin. 

Collecting information early through interventions, she said, can help them learn of those shared risk factors that might be leading to both reckless driving and also gun violence. 

She said that mentoring and youth development programs are among the resources that could help communities intervene earlier.

What can parents do?

As Children’s Wisconsin explores ways to use the study findings to prevent future injuries, Levas said parents and caregivers can take steps of their own.

On a basic level, he said, parents can start by opening lines of communication with their children and helping them connect with trusted adults.

“Seeking mentorship for your child across multiple sectors is very helpful,” he said. “The more that the youth can get engaged with adults that are guiding them to make better choices, or learn how to stay out of risky situations, the better.”

---

Jonathan Aguilar is a visual journalist at Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service who is supported through a partnership between CatchLight Local and Report for America.

Researchers say car crashes could help identify youth at risk of gun violence  is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Editor’s note: This story discusses suicide. If you or someone you know may be experiencing a mental health crisis, contact the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by dialing “988.” 

Laurie Doxtator hasn’t been sleeping well lately. 

That’s been the case since she moved out of Amanda’s House last fall. 

She spent nearly three years working toward her sobriety at the long-term, sober living home for women and their children in Green Bay. She also became a leader — helping housemates navigate the communal quarters and feel supported. She was three years sober from alcohol, eight years sober from heroin and free of all other drugs when she left.

But Doxtator has hit bumps along her sobriety journey since moving in with her older brother, less than seven miles away on the Oneida Reservation, where she’s an enrolled Oneida Nation member. 

While still avoiding heroin and alcohol, she recently began smoking marijuana again — about once a day to ease her grief. That’s typical with recovery. Progress rarely moves in a straight line. 

As Wisconsin Watch reported last year while chronicling her move out from Amanda’s House, grief has remained an undercurrent for Doxtator, who has endured losing a range of family members.

But joy and fulfillment have been there, too — including at Amanda’s House, where she learned to cope through a daily routine marked by affirmations. 

She knew leaving wouldn’t be easy. Establishing new routines would take time. Moving in with her brother meant returning to where she previously used substances and was surrounded by negative influences. 

“I wish I could just go and hide,” Doxtator said. 

But she now has tools to cope and move forward, and she has support from outside of Amanda’s House. That includes visits to the Recovery Nest, part of the Oneida Comprehensive Health Division, which offers holistic healing and growth for those seeking recovery. It’s a place to process her emotions and connect with coaches who can relate. 

“I had a slipup in my journey but it happens, it happens no matter what,” she said. “I’ll get back on track. 

‘Deep down I hurt’ 

While crafting a turtle medicine wheel at a Recovery Nest event in May, Doxtator left the room in tears. The pit-pattering of rain against the window had stopped as the dark blue-and-gray sky outside gave way to sunshine. 

Doxtator sat at a table surrounded by her fellow recoverees, including coaches Stephanie Skenandore and Kristy Bedolla. A volunteer prepared “Indian tacos” featuring made-from-scratch fry bread. As part of a cleansing routine, the recoverees passed around a shell with burned sage, a process called smudging that’s intended to rid evil and negativity from the room. The women teased each other like family.

“I laugh and giggle but deep down I hurt,” Doxtator said. 

Doxtator had just learned of another family member’s death. This time, a cousin. That’s why she attended that evening’s Recovery Nest gathering. She recognizes that trauma and grief can spiral into old habits if not addressed. A day earlier was the one-year anniversary of her brother Earl’s death. 

“I better get over here before my mind starts wandering,” Doxtator recalled telling herself that morning. 

She planned to attend her cousin’s funeral that evening. It would be a traditional Oneida Nation arrangement, similar to ceremonies for Earl and the two children she lost. 

As Doxtator’s 62nd birthday approached, she stared down a maze of dates marking the deaths of loved ones. Spring and summer are particularly hard each year, Doxtator said. She lost her mother and a son in those seasons, too. 

Paula Jolly, who co-founded the Mandolin Foundation with her daughter and later opened Amanda’s House after her daughter’s overdose death, understands the difficulties of grief and loss — especially as she helps people facing the same hardships her daughter faced. She jokingly warns people not to interrupt her when she’s cleaning her office — it’s how she copes with frustration. 

Jolly has never struggled with addiction herself, but she regularly attends 12-step meetings. She just finished two years of therapy after realizing that the characteristics of alcoholism and family dysfunction she experienced growing up had carried into her own life.

“Everyone’s like, ‘oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’ve been through all that and you keep moving,’” Jolly said. “I don’t have any choice. This is what I was put here for. I just do the best I can. Some days are messy, that’s just the way it is.” 

A familiar face on the road 

Challenges like Doxtator’s prompted Recovery Nest to start in the first place.

The need for a safe place to connect with others in recovery while leaving toxic influences behind illustrates why Recovery Nest still matters, Skenandore said. Drawing on her own experience with addiction and recovery, Skenandore understands what it takes to stay sober and how easy it is to return to substance use patterns. 

Skenandore and Doxtator share more than a commitment to recovery. They’re also cousins who have known each other since childhood, even bowling together in a league at Red Carpet Lanes in Green Bay. 

“I get to tell some of my cousins, they can’t get rid of me no matter what because they’re a cousin on both sides,” Skenandore said, laughing. 

In her Recovery Nest role, Skenandore wants to make sure Doxtator and her peers know they have supporters who back them no matter what. 

“We’re not a treatment, we’re just here to walk with them and be that extra support for them.”

When working with Native peers, Skenandore builds on her understanding of the intergenerational trauma many tribal communities have experienced. Growing up, she thought the drinking in her family — and learning to open a beer can at an early age — was normal. Skenandore said she doesn’t remember what initially prompted her to seek treatment. 

“When I went, I went drunk, and I don’t remember the ride,” she said. 

“I never realized until after I became sober… that it really dawned on me how much trauma there is,” Skenandore said. “We haven’t been able to change it. It’s slowly changing, it’s not a quick change.” 

Even if it’s difficult to break cycles of intergenerational trauma in their communities, Skenandore and Bedolla see promising signs for the future as a culture of recovery and sobriety emerges in their children’s generation. 

A new look for a new chapter 

Doxtator’s hair is now even shorter than before. After moving out of Amanda’s House last year, she chose a new style to mark a fresh start. 

She previously taught a grief class at Recovery Nest and knows that participating in the program helps manage her recovery. She hasn’t regularly attended recently, but she’s planning to change that.

 “They miss me,” Doxtator said. Her coaches hope she will eventually lead the classes again, where she once led candlelight conversations. 

Living with her brother gives her more freedom than Amanda’s House did, with its rules and structure. But she’s not sure she was ready for it. 

Doxtator said she regrets restarting smoking, but she’s determined to break the habit again. “It’s up to me … I will get through this.”

Editor’s note: After being interviewed for this story, Doxtator and Jolly participated in a Wisconsin Watch Public Square community event, where they reflected on what it was like to share their stories. Read more here.

Laurie Doxtator faces recovery’s next test is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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• An undocumented construction worker was paralyzed after falling through a roof in Madison in 2023 while working for contractors that lacked Wisconsin worker’s compensation insurance. He waited for months in a hospital while attorneys and state investigators determined who would be held responsible — a common consequence of informal employment arrangements.
• Wisconsin’s Uninsured Employers Fund ultimately covered the worker’s nearly $1 million claim, including medical care, disability compensation and transportation back to Nicaragua. The fund exists for crises like his, but it does not solve the underlying problem.
• Construction companies account for a disproportionate share of uninsured employer cases, and many businesses dissolve or disappear before regulators can recover costs. Undocumented workers paid in cash often struggle to prove they were employed, making it difficult to access benefits after serious injuries.
• The worker’s injury was never investigated by OSHA. State worker’s compensation systems and federal workplace safety investigators rarely coordinate. Advocates say limited reporting requirements, staffing shortages and poor coordination allow many serious workplace injuries to escape regulatory scrutiny.

Juan can no longer walk. A fall through a Madison auto repair shop roof in 2023 paralyzed him from the neck down.

Juan spent two lonely years in Wisconsin health care facilities while his attorneys and state regulators worked out how to cover his medical bills and compensate him for the abrupt end of his working life.

Like many undocumented immigrants working in construction, Juan found the job repairing a sheet-metal roof in Madison through a blurry relationship between a labor recruiter and a general contractor. Neither had the worker’s compensation insurance state law requires.

The Department of Workforce Development (DWD) investigates thousands of employers each year for potentially violating those requirements. In 2024 alone, investigators issued more than 4,400 penalties totaling $8.7 million against employers for operating without insurance. The penalties flow into Wisconsin’s Uninsured Employers Fund, which compensates injured workers while the state attempts to recoup costs from their employer. 

But even identifying his employer after his injury proved difficult, Juan said. Wisconsin Watch is using only part of his name to protect his identity. 

While he eventually received compensation, Juan considers his lengthy hospitalization a cautionary tale both for regulators and for fellow immigrants afraid to ask who cuts their checks for fear of losing work. “Sometimes people just work and work without asking questions,” he said, “and that’s what happened to me.” 

Meanwhile, disconnects between worker’s compensation systems and federal workplace safety investigators can shield dangerous conditions from scrutiny, leaving more workers at risk of life-altering injuries.

A job with no clear employer

Juan, 40, was one of hundreds of thousands of Nicaraguans who immigrated to the U.S. between 2020 and 2025.

Many fled after police responded violently to widespread protests against President Daniel Ortega’s totalitarian regime. Juan said he headed north to support his family back home. 

He waded across the Rio Grande to Eagle Pass, Texas, on an early morning in December 2022. 

After a brief encounter with U.S. Border Patrol officers, Juan joined a nephew in Florida. Eager to work and constrained by his lack of work authorization, Juan fit the target demographic for labor recruiters connecting employers in agriculture, construction and food processing with Florida’s then-booming population of newly arrived undocumented immigrants. 

A recruiter named Angel connected Juan with his first gig: renovating his nephew’s apartment complex. One job led to another, and he soon found himself crisscrossing the Midwest as an itinerant construction worker. 

“One week we’d go to one place in Wisconsin; the next week we’d be in another,” he said. 

The work itself was a blur. “Sometimes we’d work up to 13 hours,” he recalled — usually at an unrelenting pace. Wary of asking questions that could cost him a job, Juan said he never fully knew who called the shots. “That’s the problem,” he said. “You start working and you don’t investigate who owns the company…. Sometimes they don’t think it’s good to investigate.”

Juan still didn’t know his employer’s identity when he climbed onto the auto repair shop’s roof on a cloudy Friday in August. The site supervisor hadn’t provided him with a safety harness, he added, so nothing broke his fall when he accidentally stepped through a sheet of insulation.

He fractured his spine upon impact with the concrete floor below.

Juan struggled to remain conscious as the site supervisor debated whether to call an ambulance. “It seemed like he was scared,” he recalled. “Afraid they would cause trouble for him because I had fallen. I kept telling him, ‘Call someone! Call someone! I’m dying!’” 

Who pays when a worker is hurt?

Confined to a trauma unit bed at University Hospital in Madison, Juan was in a bind.

Among other looming questions, “there was some doubt about who was going to cover the medical bills,” said Gabriel Manzano, an attorney who represented Juan. 

Aaron Halstead, also on Juan’s legal team, estimates that roughly three-quarters of Uninsured Employers Fund claims he pursued over his three-decade career involved undocumented workers. Spanish-speaking worker’s compensation attorneys are few and far between in Wisconsin, and undocumented workers are overrepresented in injury-prone trades.

The types of opaque employment arrangements that left Juan in limbo are especially common among undocumented immigrants, Halstead said.

“They get paid in cash by some guy they may or may not know,” he added, and when disaster strikes, they’re left without an easy way to prove the identity of their employer. 

The state denies a claim if a worker or attorneys cannot gather sufficient evidence to identify an employer, said Jim O’Malley, who directs the legal services for DWD’s worker’s compensation division.

“They need to be able to give us something that establishes a relationship (with an employer),” added Aaron Galarowicz, chief of DWD’s uninsured employers fund unit. “Pay stubs are easy,” he said, “but when they’re paid in cash… that’s a little bit more difficult.”

Tracking down the responsible employer requires a degree of “amateur detective” work, he added. Text messages, worksite photos and cellphone location history can all help solve the mystery, Halstead said — or at least create a clear enough picture to bring a claim to DWD. 

Leads in Juan’s case pointed to two possible employers: Luis Villafuerte, the subcontractor who brought Juan to Madison, and RestoreMasters, a then-Florida-based contractor in charge of the roof repair. 

Neither had worker’s compensation insurance in Wisconsin. Employers sometimes forgo insurance to cut costs, Halstead said. “Some percentage of them end up with injured workers,” he added, “and they hope that no one’s going to do anything about it.”

RestoreMasters, which did not respond to requests for comment, carried insurance elsewhere but failed to get a Wisconsin endorsement on its policy before taking the Madison job, Halstead said.

Not all states offer a fallback. Had he been injured while working for an uninsured contractor while living in Florida, for example, Juan’s only path to compensation would require filing a lawsuit against his employer.

In Wisconsin, however, DWD’s Uninsured Employers Fund could step into the gap as investigators sorted out which contractor to hold accountable.

A million-dollar claim

Passing interactions with fellow Spanish-speaking patients provided Juan moments of comfort during his initial hospital stay. Those connections dried up once he transferred to a medical rehabilitation facility. He had no family or close friends in the area. “I felt alone,” he recalled. “I felt devastated … to not be able to see anyone.”

State investigators reached a decision in February 2024. RestoreMasters was his employer at the time of his injury, DWD determined, so it bore responsibility for failing to secure a worker’s compensation insurance policy in Wisconsin. 

By the time the state secured an agreement with RestoreMasters to cover his ballooning medical bills, Juan had another request: a flight back to Nicaragua. With nobody in the U.S. to care for him, returning was his only viable option. 

The final payout, including all medical costs, compensation for Juan’s injuries and a chartered flight to Managua, reached nearly $1 million. Only one other uninsured employer — a now-dissolved trucking company in Oshkosh — paid a larger sum to the Uninsured Employers Fund in the past two decades. 

Construction dominates uninsured employer cases

Construction firms like RestoreMasters made up a disproportionate share of the uninsured employers that settled with DWD. Roughly one in four businesses that settled with the Uninsured Employers Fund between 2013 and 2023 offered construction or remodeling services. By comparison, the construction industry accounted for one in 14 worker’s compensation claims filed in Wisconsin during the same period, according to DWD data.

But RestoreMasters, a business with a portfolio spanning half the country, wasn’t a typical uninsured employer. “Employers with Uninsured Employers Fund claims tend to be less established than other businesses,” DWD spokesperson Haley McCoy wrote — and difficult to track. 

A quarter of the roughly 150 employers that faced Uninsured Employers Fund claims between 2020 and 2025 have since dissolved, Wisconsin Department of Financial Institutions records show. Some may have reincorporated under a different name. State records list another 20% as “delinquent,” having failed to file required reports or pay state taxes.

Less than half of employers still incorporated in Wisconsin with names matching Uninsured Employers Fund records have obtained worker’s compensation policies since encountering DWD.

Of the more than two dozen businesses Wisconsin Watch contacted about their experiences navigating Uninsured Employers Fund claims, only one responded: a used car dealership on Milwaukee’s South Side owned by former Greenfield alderwoman Linda Lubotsky. 

Her business is among those that have not obtained insurance policies; Lubotsky told Wisconsin Watch that she now runs a one-person operation that isn’t subject to Wisconsin’s worker’s compensation insurance requirement. 

Lubotsky called her business’s run-in with DWD as a “witch hunt,” accusing the former employee who filed a worker’s compensation claim in 2024 of fraud and the agency of failing to act as a neutral arbiter. “I spent $15,000 on attorney fees,” she said, “and I’m currently in the appeal process.”

Employers and employees appealing Uninsured Employers Fund decisions first make their case to an administrative law judge. They can then appeal to Wisconsin’s Labor and Industry Review Commission before taking a case to court. 

When serious injury escapes OSHA scrutiny

Even as the state investigated and settled with RestoreMasters, the company faced no scrutiny from federal workplace safety regulators after Juan’s fall.

Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) serious injury records from 2023 contain no mention of the incident, and the agency’s enforcement data shows no penalties against RestoreMasters for workplace safety rule violations.

Federal rules require employers to report workplace accidents resulting in deaths, overnight hospitalizations or the loss of a body part, and employers that fail to report injuries can face financial penalties.

“OSHA can barely enforce those penalties,” said Debbie Berkowitz, a fellow at Georgetown University’s Kalmanovitz Initiative for Labor and the Working Poor and a former Obama administration senior policy adviser for OSHA. 

OSHA has six months to fine employers for failing to report serious workplace injuries, Berkowitz said. That deadline, coupled with overwhelming caseloads and a shrinking corps of investigators, allows many cases to fall through the cracks. 

Others aware of Juan’s fall could have reported the incident to OSHA. But Wisconsin DWD has “no established reporting process” for sharing information about Uninsured Employers Fund payouts with the federal agency, McCoy wrote.

That disconnect goes both ways. “OSHA doesn’t double-check worker’s (compensation) records,” said Eric Frumin, health and safety director for the Strategic Organizing Center, a coalition of national labor unions. The agency’s investigations aren’t primarily driven by workplace injuries, he added, so worker’s compensation data would be “a bit out of their wheelhouse.”

Even in states that enforce workplace safety laws through OSHA-approved programs, including Iowa, Michigan and Minnesota, regulators do not use worker’s compensation records, Frumin said. 

But properly reporting injuries to OSHA doesn’t guarantee follow-up investigations, Berkowitz noted. In 2021, for instance, OSHA compliance officers investigated less than 40% of reports of severe workplace injuries.

A long road back

Juan boarded a chartered flight to Managua last fall. The final leg of his return — an eight-hour drive from the capital to his rural hometown — sapped what remained of his energy.

“I arrived home in terrible shape,” he said. “But I made it back.” 

He’ll spend the rest of his life in a house he built with the payout from RestoreMasters. “Nothing fancy,” he said — but with a floor plan he can navigate in a wheelchair. 

A roofing accident left a new immigrant paralyzed. Tracking down his employer took ‘detective’ work. is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Wisconsin will begin enforcing new federal eligibility restrictions for FoodShare and Medicaid this week, cutting off thousands of refugees, asylees and other legally present immigrants from public benefits they were previously eligible to receive.

The state’s refugee services providers warn that fallback options are already stretched thin.

The Trump administration narrowed eligibility for the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), which helps low-income households purchase groceries. The Wisconsin program, called FoodShare, is federally funded but administered by states. The new rules —  which President Donald Trump last July signed into law as part of his “big beautiful” spending bill — exclude many noncitizens previously eligible for the program, including refugees, asylees and victims of human trafficking.

Wisconsin’s Department of Health Services (DHS) will begin enforcing the FoodShare eligibility rules on July 1, barring immigrants who fall into one of the now-excluded categories from enrolling in the program or renewing their benefits. The state will implement the Medicaid eligibility restrictions beginning Oct. 1, with some exceptions. DHS estimates roughly 7,200 people will lose access to one or both programs, nearly two-thirds of whom live in greater Milwaukee.

Neighboring states have already begun enforcing the new SNAP restrictions. Illinois, for instance, began barring refugees and asylees without green cards from the program in April. DHS spokesperson Elizabeth Goodsitt attributed Wisconsin’s slower rollout to the state’s “complex, combined eligibility system” and effort needed to “design and implement” changes.

Refugee services providers spent months bracing for impact, receiving formal notice of the cutoffs at roughly the same time as affected refugees and asylees. To ensure language barriers didn’t leave families in the dark, Lutheran Social Services of Wisconsin and Upper Michigan refugee program director Omar Mohamed said his team is checking in with affected households individually. 

Those with green cards will retain access to the programs, but Mohamed noted that a recent barrage of visa restrictions leaves green cards out of reach for many recent arrivals. Refugees can typically apply for green cards a year after settling in the U.S., but the Trump administration in January froze green card processing for anyone from 39 countries — including Myanmar, the largest source of refugees resettled in Wisconsin in recent years. Of the nearly 170 people Lutheran Social Services resettled in Wisconsin between October 2024 and September 2025, only one has secured a green card, Mohamed said. 

Ongoing legal battles over the visa restrictions have yet to clear the path to legal permanent residency. 

Without access to legal permanent residency, refugees and asylees face what amounts to an  “indefinite ban on the eligibility” for SNAP and Medicaid, said Matthew Soerens, vice president of advocacy and policy for refugee services nonprofit World Relief, which has offices in Appleton, Eau Claire and Oshkosh.

Food pantries may be many refugees’ and asylees’ best backup when they lose access to SNAP, but advocates say donated food cannot directly replace lost benefits. Milwaukee food bank Hunger Task Force has seen pantry traffic increase by 50% in the past two years, said public policy and advocacy director Reno Wright. 

The nonprofit is helping other food pantries prepare for the cutoff, but those programs are “meant to provide supplemental assistance and not long-term ongoing assistance,” Wright said. 

What families should know

Mixed-status households should still apply for benefits for the members of their families who still qualify, Wright added. U.S. citizen children of refugee parents, for instance, will remain eligible for nutrition assistance — albeit only for their own needs, not their parents’.

Children who lose access to FoodShare can turn to Milwaukee’s summer meal program, organized by Hunger Task Force and a coalition of school districts and community organizations. The program provides free meals to children ages 18 and under at more than 100 locations in greater Milwaukee. 

Alternatives to Medicaid benefits are even harder to find. Free clinics often operate at capacity, Soerens said, and while refugees may still qualify for emergency medical coverage through  Medicaid Emergency Services, the program sets a high bar for eligibility and does not cover preventative care or ongoing treatment for chronic conditions. 

While some Milwaukee-area clinics are mulling subscription-based alternatives to Medicaid, Mohamed said many of the families his organization supports can’t fit a health care subscription into their budgets.

For now, Lutheran Social Services and its counterparts elsewhere in Wisconsin will rely on donors and community partners to shore up the assistance they provide to refugees and asylees. That need has grown since the Trump administration largely suspended refugee admissions last January, cutting off funding tied to new arrivals and forcing agencies to lay off staff.

But refugee arrivals haven’t ceased entirely. At least 218 refugees have resettled in Wisconsin since last January, all from South Africa.

Wisconsin to cut FoodShare, Medicaid for thousands of refugees under new federal rules is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

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Grief is complex.

In the same way that there is no one cause, there is no one cure. 

On a Friday night on Milwaukee’s South Side, local Indigenous community members gathered to grieve and try to find healing together.

On June 19, the Gerald L. Ignace Indian Health Center held a candlelight grief vigil for loved ones to remember those who have passed.

The center, at 930 W. Historic Mitchell St., has been around since the 1970s. The grief vigil event began in 2024. 

“Spaces like this are a way to bask in culture and connect with one another,” said Madison Black, project officer at the health center. “We just want people to have a safe space to be as they are.” 

Mark Denning, a member of the Oneida Nation of Wisconsin, sat at a table coloring a page that read “Thinking of you always.” There were about 15 names down the side of the sheet.

“Learning is eternal, faith is eternal, and so is this process of what we’re going through,” said Denning, referring to the complexity of grief.

It’s Denning’s third year attending the event. During the first two years, when the program focused on recognition of drug overdoses, he was invited as a speaker and someone who had lost multiple children to overdose.

In the back of the room, Narcan kits and training were offered to all attendees. Preventive methods like these have grown as the event has evolved. 

“It wasn’t just about mourning people, they also wanted to be about saving people,” Denning said.

Before the health center offered these events, it wasn’t unusual to lose 26 people in a season, said Denning, a longtime instructor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. For native communities across the nation, young people ages 10-24 have the highest rate of suicide of all demographic groups.  

It’s why the importance of banding together spoke volumes at the vigil. 

“Our community is so small and close-knit that a lot of times when there’s a loss, it’s felt across the entire community,” Black said.

The night included a welcome song from the RedNationBoyz, a powwow drum circle group for Indigenous youths. 

“(This event) gives other people an opportunity to communicate the same feelings that we may be sharing to each other,” said Avery Nahwahquaw, co-founder of the RedNationBoyz.

Communal food, crafts and music cultivate conversations about personal grief. 

“Sometimes you feel like nobody else knows what you’re going through. But when you go to something like this, you realize real fast that there’s a lot of people who feel the same way you do,” Nahwahquaw said.

Denning’s journey with grief meant he didn’t work for two years following the passing of his last child. It wasn’t until one day he looked out over a field during a light snowfall and thought, “They’re a part of this now. They’re a part of this world, and wherever I look and wherever I go, this world’s going to be with me, and I’m with them.”

The process of grieving is vital, according to Denning. 

“No one should walk away from our funerals and say ‘they didn’t know I loved them’ or ‘I wish I could have told them I loved them,’” he said.

Next to Denning sat Oneida tribal member Jeremiah Johnson, who has his own journey with grief. 

“We have to speak up and do it together. Not one by one, but next to each other,” said Johnson, a South Side native.

The event also gave a larger perspective.

“Even though I have lost a lot, there are people that have suffered 10 times more than me,” Johnson said.

Togetherness during grief gifts the ability to freely express the emotions felt because of grief, Denning explained.

“It doesn’t mean that you’ll ever stop crying. It just means that I see you, I love you, I feel what you’re feeling. I can’t know it, but someone can identify with it,” Denning said.

Attendees spent the evening sharing meals, stories, songs and the peace created in the unity of their grief.  

Grief has no solution, but for the night, it had a place to rest.

Indian Health Center’s grief vigil offers space for remembrance in Milwaukee is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

Reading Time: 13 minutes

Editor’s note: This story contains topics of domestic violence and abuse.

When Kimberly Johnson mustered the courage to leave her abuser, she hoped the Christine Ann shelter in Winnebago County would be a refuge.

Johnson said she didn’t leave her abuser when he went to prison for beating her, or when she got evicted because of the damage he and his friends caused to her home. It took her years to get away, and when she did, there was only one place she thought to go. 

What she didn’t expect was to be turned away.

Johnson is one of several domestic abuse survivors who, after what they describe as bad experiences with the Oshkosh shelter, left negative online reviews. Their stories raise questions about where survivors can turn when a shelter of last resort shuts them out. 

Christine Ann Domestic Abuse Services Incorporated, or CADASI for short, has long stood as a community pillar for domestic violence victims in Winnebago County. 

The center was founded in 1984 and renamed in 1991 after Christine Ann Schambow, who was murdered by her husband. That same year it moved to Algoma Boulevard near its current location a few blocks from the Fox River. In 2024, the shelter relocated again to a new 64-bed facility that provides legal and mental health services and up to two years of housing support.

When Johnson first arrived in 2024, she was assigned to an apartment with other women. She found a job as a cook at UW-Oshkosh and began to gain back some of her confidence.

But three days after she started working, she received a week’s notice to vacate. 

Johnson asked her counselor if she could stay until she received her first paycheck because she had nowhere to go. She recalled being told, “Well, we’re not a homeless shelter, (and) we feel that’s why you’re here, because you’re homeless.”

About two days later, after Johnson had asked her counselor how to file a grievance and discussed the situation with her roommate, who was also being kicked out, she heard a knock at her door. Her counselor, another shelter employee and two police officers were there.

Johnson said they accused her of threatening to “beat up” a CADASI staff member and told her she had 10 minutes to pack all her things before they would be removed.

Johnson recalled spending several days sleeping outside the Salvation Army in the freezing cold, before eventually being accepted into a homeless shelter. She said if she had not gotten into that shelter when she did, she would have gone back to her abuser.

Wisconsin Watch spoke with several former CADASI clients and domestic abuse survivors who reported being turned away, along with statewide advocates and government officials, about accountability for domestic violence agencies serving survivors’ needs. 

CADASI Executive Director Carly Hirsch said in an email that the organization is unable to respond to questions from Wisconsin Watch, but wrote in a statement that CADASI is “committed to empowering individuals and families, regardless of race, ethnicity, religion, gender identity, sexual orientation, or ability … by providing education, promoting safety, and offering compassionate support (while) always honoring the confidentiality of those we serve.” 

Former clients speak out

On websites like Charity Navigator and Indeed, CADASI’s shelter has overwhelmingly positive reviews for financial openness and working conditions. 

But out of the 62 service reviews for the shelter on Google, 17 are negative, and those reviews have overwhelmingly more likes than the positive ones. CADASI’s corporate office, which is listed separately online from the shelter, has only one review, which is negative. 

Wisconsin Watch confirmed the negative reviews with names attached were all from real people located in or near Winnebago County at the time. Among CADASI’s online reviews, three other women said the organization had kicked them out.

Jennifer, a single mother of three, said she sought support from CADASI sometime between 2011 and 2015 for an emotionally, financially and sexually abusive relationship. Jennifer, who wished to be identified by her first name, was often living in her car at the time.

She initially found the center’s programming to be helpful. She took a choice and consequences class with a former advocate whom she described as “awesome.”

“She would help me out when I was kicked out and didn’t have a job, but my kids needed something like a Halloween costume. She’d give me gift cards,” Jennifer recalled.

After that advocate left the center, however, Jennifer said things took a drastic turn. She got into an argument with her abuser, who told her he had contacted a legal advocate at the shelter. CADASI then abruptly canceled her services, refusing to speak with her or provide alternative resources because staff claimed a conflict of interest.

“Christine Ann has the right to decide who they can allow services or what a conflict of interest is,” she recalled the advocate telling her after repeated phone calls asking for an explanation. 

Multiple sources said CADASI used the phrase “conflict of interest” when refusing or withdrawing services, though it does not openly define this term. The nonprofit organization’s GuideStar profile says it has a conflict-of-interest policy, but it’s not publicly available on its website.

The United States Office for Victims of Crime says that “when a conflict arises between a victim’s interests and those of the victim assistance provider or program, the provider should verbally disclose the situation to the victim, refer the victim to an alternate provider, and/or consult a professional regarding appropriate resolution of the conflict.”

The experience ended up following Jennifer, who went back to her abuser. When she attempted to leave him again, she said Harbor House in Appleton, a CADASI partner, refused to serve her. 

She also said when she was hired for a job at Garage for Good in Neenah — a low-cost auto repair garage opened by CADASI and Harbor House for domestic abuse survivors that closed in 2020 — the job offer was rescinded the morning she was supposed to start working.

“Not only would they not help me, but now I can’t even have a job,” Jennifer said. “I finally got a job, and it was going to be good and I’ll make decent money so I’d be able to support myself, and I don’t have to go back. … And then the rug was just pulled out from under me.”

Jennifer didn’t talk to anyone about her experience with CADASI for a long time because she thought “no one cared.”

“The worst part about that was then when I left (my abuser) finally, permanently, I needed help, and I knew I couldn’t go to the Christine Ann center,” Jennifer said. 

Rejected survivors

CADASI is transparent about its inability to help all survivors in its community due to limited space — a nationwide problem as domestic violence shelters face funding cuts and uncertain futures. 

Advocates with Wise Women Gathering Place, a Green Bay nonprofit that provides culturally specific services to Native American victims of violence, told Wisconsin Watch that dozens of their clients have been turned away or abruptly kicked out of shelters across the state, particularly in the last few years. 

CADASI’s website notes that before the shelter moved and expanded from 37 to 64 beds in 2024, it turned away about 50 survivors annually for capacity reasons. But Johnson questioned that claim, saying her unit had five empty beds prior to her eviction. She said she saw two empty apartments on her floor and empty apartments throughout the third floor. 

Donna Prost said she was fleeing abuse and living in her car when CADASI turned her away in 2021. She said the shelter appeared mostly empty each time she visited, even though staff told her there was no room for her. 

CADASI declined Wisconsin Watch’s request for data on its occupancy rates, citing “the safety and confidentiality of (its) current and former clients,” though the shelter reports biannual point in time occupancy numbers to Wisconsin Balance of State Continuum of Care, which tracks homelessness.

Data from 2014 to 2025 shows CADASI has rarely been near capacity during the two nights each year the homeless advocacy organization recorded its occupancy rates. In half of the counts, occupancy rates were less than 50%, dipping as low as 13.5% in July 2022. The shelter has not exceeded 100% capacity during the counts since 2014.

A Wisconsin Balance of State Continuum of Care spokesperson told Wisconsin Watch a shelter might not appear full if it houses a family in a single unit with more beds than there are family members.

CADASI’s 2024 tax form, known as a 990, says the shelter provides families with private rooms, while single adults of the same gender may share rooms. The form also says the shelter does not limit how long clients can stay, though its website says housing is offered for up to two years.

Organization leaders did not respond to requests for clarification about the homeless counts and their bed capacity. 

After being turned away from CADASI, Prost returned to her abuser. “I had nowhere to go. I was selling my home at the time (and) ended up backing out of that,” she said.

She approached CADASI again in 2023 for help filing a restraining order due to an escalation in the abuse. She said CADASI was ultimately unhelpful — despite Winnebago County instructing people to contact CADASI for help with restraining orders. Prost ultimately completed her restraining order with help from the local library.

“I would probably have been killed somewhere along the line (without it),” Prost said. “I wouldn’t say (CADASI) was mean or anything like that … but both times they just didn’t want to be bothered.”

Carl, a 40-year-old Wisconsin military veteran who asked to be identified by his middle name because he feared retribution and wanted to protect his coparenting relationship, said a social worker friend encouraged him to call CADASI in 2018 for therapy resources after he showed her a video of his ex-wife verbally abusing him. He was hesitant to do so, half-convinced that he just had a “crazy ex.”

When he called the organization’s 24-hour helpline, Carl said it took time to convince the advocate on the other end that he wasn’t an abusive husband seeking help to stop abusing. Instead, he said, he wanted someone with whom to talk through his experiences. 

“I finally made her realize that, in my mind, I was a victim, and the response that I got will stick with me forever. She laughed,” he recalled. “She laughed at me and said that this was a women’s shelter. That they existed to protect women from people like me. (She said) men are not victims, and that I should just go check out the homeless shelter or something.”

Carl’s account was echoed by an anonymous online reviewer who said he filed a complaint with the shelter. 

The man said staff told him by phone he could stay after his girlfriend was arrested for domestic violence, but staff turned him away when he arrived because his presence would be a “conflict of interest” and that “women felt scared having a male stay there.” 

Studies show as many as 32% of Wisconsin men experience intimate partner violence, rape or stalking. CADASI’s websites and brochures say it serves “people of all backgrounds, genders, ages, ethnicities, sexual orientations, and abilities.”

CADASI receives annual government funding from the Wisconsin Department of Children and Families (DCF), the state Department of Justice (DOJ), Winnebago County Health and Human Services, the cities of Oshkosh and Neenah’s Community Development Block Grants and FEMA-EFSP. State law prohibits organizations that receive state funding from discriminating. 

Oversight and redress 

Some of the concerns raised about CADASI relate to a lack of transparency surrounding grievance and nondiscrimination procedures for clients. 

CADASI’s website says it encourages clients to report discrimination “promptly” after it occurs. According to GuideStar, a clearinghouse for nonprofit information, the organization “aim(s) to collect feedback from as many people (they) serve as possible” and makes additional efforts to collect feedback from “marginalized or under-represented people.”

The profile also says the organization has difficulty getting people to respond to requests for feedback because it lacks technology to “collect and aggregate feedback efficiently.” It says CADASI staff “find it hard to prioritize feedback collection and review due to lack of time.”

CADASI does not specify what its procedure is for collecting feedback, nor for addressing discrimination complaints or client grievances. CADASI declined to comment when asked by Wisconsin Watch.

Johnson said that when she asked an advocate how to file a grievance report two days before being kicked out, the advocate refused to explain the process. She still wants to officially report her shelter experience, but like many survivors in similar circumstances, has “no clue” where or how to do so. 

A Wisconsin DCF spokesperson told Wisconsin Watch that domestic violence agencies receiving DCF grant funds are contractually obligated to have a grievance process for staff and clients. If a client has completed the program’s complaint/grievance process and does not feel that the complaint has been resolved, the person can submit a complaint to DCF’s general complaint form. DCF lacks a complaint process or records database specific to domestic violence shelters.

Should DCF identify “instances of concern or non-compliance” with grant requirements for a shelter, DCF said the program agency must “take immediate corrective action” or work with DCF on a Corrective Action Plan in serious cases. If the shelter doesn’t comply with the plan requirements, DCF said it may terminate the grant agreement.

Responding to a Wisconsin Watch records request, DCF said it received a complaint about CADASI in 2019. The complainant accused the organization of sharing her address with her abuser, denying her shelter due to medical needs and not preparing her for her court hearing or helping her with transportation.

Currently, all DCF-funded shelters must provide temporary housing and food, educational arrangements for school-age children, emergency transportation, a 24-hour crisis line and an intake process for clients.

In response to the complaint, a DCF spokesperson said the agency had a conversation with CADASI and shared the results of the conversation with the complainant. The agency was “satisfied” with the outcome of the conversations, the spokesperson said without providing more detail.

End Domestic Abuse Wisconsin, a statewide coalition that works to “educate shelter and program volunteers and advocates, law enforcement, legislators, and community members to provide safety and support to survivors,” also has a multistep process for approaching grievances, communications director Elise Buchbinder told Wisconsin Watch.

When a client or survivor reaches out to End Domestic Abuse Wisconsin about a negative experience with a local agency, the coalition first tries to address the issue on a program level. The coalition may contact the agency informally to inquire about any problems, offer gaps in support and work alongside the agency to address survivor concerns.

The second step, Buchbinder said, is to bring the problem to the organization’s board members. The board is typically responsible for developing the policy, procedures and regulations of an agency, evaluating its programs’ performance and addressing client complaints.

Two former CADASI board members declined to comment for this story, and others did not respond to requests from Wisconsin Watch. 

Finally, if End Domestic Abuse Wisconsin receives many complaints about a shelter or agency, or if it is unable to address disputes locally, the coalition would contact the program’s funders and grant managers — including the DCF — as well as elected officials and the media. 

Buchbinder declined to comment on whether End Domestic Abuse has received complaints about CADASI.

The final option for survivors seeking redress is to contact the Wisconsin Department of Justice (DOJ), though its oversight also applies only to the shelters it funds, and even then is “limited” and “not regulatory” in nature.

When the DOJ receives a complaint about a domestic violence shelter, it first decides whether the complaint “relates to the terms and conditions of (its) grant” for that shelter. If it doesn’t, the DOJ either forwards it to an outside agency or returns it to the complainant.

“The DOJ generally does not have the authority to act on complaints regarding conduct that is not contemplated by the terms and conditions of the domestic violence shelter’s DOJ-administered grant program,” the agency said.

Discrimination complaints, for example, must be handled by the U.S. Department of Justice, but the Wisconsin DOJ typically assists complainants in submissions. 

When the DOJ finds that a grant recipient violated program conditions, it will typically work with the shelter or affiliated statewide coalitions to “achieve compliance,” sometimes attaching special conditions to grants or reviewing and revising the shelter’s policies.

In severe cases, the DOJ says it may reject future funding requests from the organization.

Some advocates argue that there is too little oversight or accountability for domestic violence agencies across the state. Shelters across Wisconsin, particularly in Winnebago County and the Fox Valley, have accumulated negative online reviews over the years.

Wise Women Gathering Place advocate and Oneida Nation member Julia McLester said many clients have faced discrimination from domestic violence agencies, including in Winnebago County. Advocates have called the police on clients and referred them to psychiatrists for practicing cultural rituals, discouraging some survivors from working with non-Native advocates altogether.

Nationally, more than half (55%) of Native women have experienced physical violence from an intimate partner. 

McLester has worked with the Wisconsin Coalition Against Sexual Assault to create a racial inclusion checklist for domestic violence agencies, but the idea hasn’t gained traction.

“Mainstream agencies need to be learning and growing and being accountable to how they provide training, trauma-informed care training, diversity, equity, inclusion skills, and accountability, how to check our own implicit biases so that it’s not creating harm to people coming in the door,” McLester said.

The aftermath of abuse

Buchbinder attributes the struggles many survivors are facing with Wisconsin shelters and coalitions to a systemic lack of resources for the survivors and agencies, rather than any ill will by the organizations.

“Our communities will continue seeing individual cases of escalated crises at the local program level due to an overarching lack of survivors’ needs being met,” Buchbinder said. “When an advocate is forced to say ‘no’ to (survivors’) basic needs due to lack of adequate resourcing, further escalation of crisis is too often a tragic outcome.”

Wise Women Gathering Place communications person Brenda John, who is also a member of Oneida Nation, echoed that statement. “The people who work in these settings, they care about victims … their resources are stretched thin as well, so they’re doing the best they can with what they have.” 

Nevertheless, they emphasized that institutional and societal responses to domestic abuse victims can inflict long-term trauma, such as feelings of shame and embarrassment that discourage survivors from seeking services. 

Following her eviction from CADASI, Johnson said she lived in a motel before being forced to live in her car. Now 56 and living with her mother, she struggles to find employment and lacks many of the resources needed to pursue her dream of attending college. 

“They were supposed to do everything they said in their ads,” Johnson said. “At that point I’m telling myself I am so broken, I don’t even know where to begin. And I need guidance, and I need help, and I’ve always been the type of person I will never ask anybody for anything. … I will not beg, you know? And that’s how they made me feel, like I had to beg for it.”

Jennifer said she felt like CADASI “slapped me in the face and victim-shamed me” and was “destroyed” for years after her experience. She remembers weeping in her aunt’s backyard when she was moving herself and three children into her aunt’s two-bedroom apartment. She called the suicide crisis hotline “too many times to count.” 

Though she managed to get a restraining order against her husband, Prost said that being turned away from CADASI made her life extremely stressful. The worry and fear keep her awake at night, even after her husband died in January 2025.

Carl said his CADASI experience was “shattering on a level (he) didn’t quite understand and wasn’t prepared to deal with.” Like Jennifer, he continues to coparent with his abuser without guidance.

Carl said a friend wanted him to go on a “warpath” against the shelter after hearing about his experience. But he advised against it. Carl doesn’t want the scrutiny and doubts anybody will believe him.

“Who are people going to believe?” he asked. “This one dude, or this shelter organization that has been active in the Fox Valley for who knows how long?” 

Still, many of the people Wisconsin Watch spoke with are healing after saving themselves from their circumstances when no one else would. 

They have gone to therapy, found jobs helping others and focused on building better lives for their children. By speaking up, they hope to raise awareness about how society treats abuse survivors and draw attention to the need for more empathy and transparency in the institutions that are supposed to help.

“I still have this dream in my head that I want to start my own shelter, get my own nationwide domestic abuse shelter going and not do this to women,” Johnson said. “It’s my life and my livelihood. How could you just disregard me like I’m less than a dog?”

Editor’s note: This story corrects the name of the local college in Oshkosh where Johnson worked as a cook.

An Oshkosh domestic abuse shelter has been panned online. Survivors describe what they experienced. is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.

Reading Time: 4 minutes

For two decades, one Milwaukee father has been pouring into other fathers on the North Side through his nonprofit, which provides free courses meant to teach them about parenting, manhood and becoming role models. 

Terron Edwards is founder of Fathers Making Progress, which supports Milwaukee fathers with parenting skills, case management, mentorship and more. He launched the organization after previously doing work at New Hope Project focused on advocating for working poor non-custodial parents as well as fatherhood-related work at Northcott Neighborhood House. 

“The work I was doing at Northcott became a passion for me,” Edwards said. “Being a dad saved my life.”

Edwards, a father of five, said growing up was challenging because his father was killed. The pain he felt made him make poor decisions until he became a teen father.

“I decided that I wasn’t going to leave my son the way my father left me,” he said.

Understanding what the program has to offer

After receiving training in various fatherhood curricula, Edwards launched his first 12-week class in 2005, which was later called “Fathers Building Fathers.” 

Participants learned three modules that focus on manhood, navigating different relationships and traditional parenting lessons like discipline, stages of child development and more. 

“We have an alumni network that is made of longtime guys and support groups that focus on different topics, and sometimes there’s no topic,” Edwards said. “Sometimes it’s the opportunity for folks to have a safe space to talk through stuff.”

The organization began as an independently funded movement but was incorporated as a nonprofit during the pandemic in 2020.

Building brotherhood through vulnerability

Demetrius Simmons, 27 and a father of seven children, participated in 2019 before the program became the nonprofit Fathers Making Progress.

“I made a promise to all my kids that I wasn’t going to miss out on any days, I was going to be there and take my role as a father seriously,” he said.

Simmons said he loved how the initiative showed him what brotherhood was and created a safe space. 

“That’s a space to be vulnerable without judgment,” Simmons said. “I found that unique because a lot of times the world doesn’t show us the other side of places you can go and there will be people who will understand you.” 

Simmons had his first child at 18 in 2016, which resulted in him choosing to work and gain experience and provide over school. 

“By the time I had my second child, I had a system down packed,” Simmons said. “Then I got married and had a third child and was able to correct some of my mistakes I made from my first two.”

Chris Harris, 39 and a father of four, participated in the organization in 2011 after being invited by Edwards to attend a session. 

During Harris’ first visit he saw men sitting in a circle and venting about their personal situations. 

“That was very interesting to me because I had never seen that before,” he said. “I’ve been a member ever since.”

Harris describes his fatherhood as great even though it comes with its challenges. 

“Life is full of challenges so you can’t escape those with being a parent,” he said.

Building stronger generational cycles

Edwards’ other focus with Fathers Making Progress is ensuring that fathers develop strong generational cycles, which help them pass down patterns, behaviors and beliefs to the next generation. This can help them maintain a steady relationship with their child. 

One way to build strong generational cycles is through having a good coparenting system. 

“We have to be serious about coparenting, especially with the fact that marriage is already on a decline and divorce is on the rise,” Edwards said. “Dads can have all the tools in the world, but if they don’t have the access because of bitterness and other things then our work doesn’t mean anything if relationships aren’t strengthened.”

Harris said one of the challenges the organization helped him overcome was raising his children in different homes.

“They helped me to understand what it takes to be a better co-parent and how to do it effectively without leaving the other parent out,” he said.

Fathers Making Progress also builds stronger generational cycles through an initiative called “Boys to Leaders,” where men from his organization visit local schools to offer intergenerational workshops, mentorship and other free services.

“We help young men quantify what positive manhood is and what healthy relationships look like,” Edwards said.

Taking in all the lessons and sharing advice

Simmons said his greatest lesson is knowing that being a present father is everything.

Simmons remembers the emotions he felt after missing the birth of his middle son due to incarceration.

“That’s what really made me open my eyes up to a lot of stuff about fatherhood,” he said. “For the other two, I was actually there to cut the umbilical cord, but I wasn’t there for my other child and it made me feel some type of way.”

Simmons said he’s raising two bonus children who are from broken homes, but with support from the organization, he’s confident in not making the same mistakes again. 

Edwards also said that being present is his top lesson. 

“We don’t have all the answers and we don’t have to be the richest, but to show up intentionally for our children will mean the world to them,” Edwards said. 

He advises fathers to develop an understanding of what their beliefs and values are so they can pass it to their children.

“It’s essential that you are living by those as closely as possible,” he said. 

For co-parents, Harris advises them to learn how to work together before the baby is born to avoid confusion and disorganization.

“That’s going over child care, work schedules and things of that nature,” he said. 

Simmons, now a facilitator for Fathers Making Progress, wants young fathers to know that they shouldn’t let their situation define who they are. 

“You can always make your situation better,” he said. “What you put out in the world is what the world is going to give, so try your best to put as much good stuff in the world so you can receive just as much.”

Interested in participating or learning more?

If you are a father interested in taking free courses through Fathers Making Progress, click here to submit a request. 

The course will include meals, activities, gifts and more. 

Click here to view and sign up for other initiatives through the organization that spark your interest. 

‘Being a dad saved my life’: How a Milwaukee fatherhood program is changing the narrative is a post from Wisconsin Watch, a non-profit investigative news site covering Wisconsin since 2009. Please consider making a contribution to support our journalism.