Outreach workers hope to knock on 100,000 doors across Philadelphia to prevent overdoses
City officials hope residents will keep naloxone in their house in case of emergencies, just as they would aspirin or Tylenol.
City outreach workers are knocking on thousands of doors to give lifesaving overdose reversal drugs directly to residents in North Philadelphia neighborhoods, where overdose deaths have been rising sharply and people often lack access to addiction resources.
Outreach workers from the city’s community engagement arm, Philly Counts, have been fanning out through the 19140 zip code, where 85 people died of overdoses in 2022. Only Kensington’s 19134 zip code saw more overdose deaths in 2022. Since 2017, overdose deaths have increased by 77% in 19140, an area that includes Hunting Park, Nicetown-Tioga and Franklinville.
The Philly Counts teams have knocked on about 2,400 doors and spoken directly to 411 residents, handing out tote bags filled with the opioid overdose-reversing drug naloxone, testing strips that can detect the deadly synthetic opioid fentanyl in street drugs, and pamphlets outlining city resources — including treatment options.
To reach as many people as possible, outreach workers are targeting everyone in the community — not just people known to use drugs, or their loved ones. The city’s goal is to visit about 100,000 homes in “hot spot” zip codes such as 19140.
“People want to help, but they don’t know what to do,” said Takia Anderson, a Philly Counts canvasser. “Having face-to-face conversations allows me to explain things to people that they otherwise wouldn’t consider. We see stuff on the news, but it’s different when you have it at your door.”
A new kind of outreach
The city has “a ton of resources” for people who use drugs, said Noelle Foizen, the director of the city’s Opioid Response Unit, “but you have to come to a table or sign up for a training.”
The new program, she said, could help the city reach people who are ashamed to tell anyone that they use drugs — or don’t know where to turn for help.
“Resources are not going to the people who need them most,” said Keli McLoyd, the deputy director of the city’s Opioid Response Unit. She and other city officials are particularly concerned about Black and Hispanic residents, who have seen significant increases in overdose deaths and are less likely to access treatment and medication for addiction.
Because of the stigma around drug use, Anderson and canvassers like her aren’t always sure how they’ll be greeted while door-knocking. They reach out to block captains to let them know canvassers will be in the neighborhoods before they head out.
In conversations with neighbors, Anderson also tells people about other city resources, such as housing support and food assistance. She emphasizes that naloxone is a medication that everyone should have in the house, like ibuprofen or aspirin.
It’s not unusual for neighbors to open up with stories of their own struggles with addiction, or of losing a loved one to an overdose. The canvassing teams stay in touch with a mobile addiction treatment unit in case they encounter someone who is ready to get help.
For some canvassers, including Anderson, the work is deeply personal. In April, her cousin and his wife both died of fentanyl overdoses. Her sister has also battled addiction.
“Drug use affects everyone,” she said. “It’s not just a North Philly issue — it’s a people issue.”
Personal connections with neighbors
For some North Philadelphia residents, a knock on the door from a Philly Counts worker was the first time anyone from the city had reached out about the overdose crisis in their neighborhood.
On a recent Thursday, a woman named Amparo, who declined to give her last name because of the stigma associated with drug use, wiped away tears as she accepted a tote bag with naloxone and fentanyl testing strips from outreach workers.
Amparo said her son, now in his 40s, had been addicted to drugs, primarily cocaine, since he was 15. Vanessa Caracoza, director of community engagement for the city’s Office of Community Empowerment and Opportunity, had tagged along on the day’s canvassing. Caracoza helped her flip through a pamphlet with a list of resources for people with addiction.
Speaking Spanish as Caracoza translated, Amparo said that she was terrified that her son would overdose. She had heard that sometimes cocaine is contaminated with fentanyl, the opioid behind most of the city’s overdose deaths, and said she would give the naloxone and testing strips to her son. She hoped, too, that she could convince him to enter treatment.
“This is the first time I’ve talked to someone that helps with drugs,” she said. “There’s a lot of suffering.”