By: Ayeshah Somani
When Maryum Phillips walks into a Status: Home apartment, she doesn’t see case files or metrics. She sees plants on the windowsill. She hears laughter in the next room. She smells dinner on the stove. And in those everyday details —quiet, ordinary, often overlooked —she sees the extraordinary.
Because for Phillips, this work isn’t about optics or output. It’s about outcomes. It’s about dignity. And it’s about belonging.
Since taking the reins of the Atlanta-based nonprofit in 2021, Phillips has led Status: Home with a rare blend of clarity and compassion. She describes her leadership as “collaborative, transparent, and deeply rooted in the mission.” However, behind that modest phrasing lies an ambitious vision, one that challenges our traditional perspectives on housing, care, and community.
Status: Home, formerly known as Jerusalem House, provides permanent supportive housing for people living with HIV. But in Phillips’ hands, it’s become a blueprint for what equity can look like on the ground.
That transformation began with a rebrand. The shift from Jerusalem House to Status: Home wasn’t cosmetic; it was philosophical. “The rebrand was about making sure our name reflected our vision,” she explains. “It’s not just a shelter. It’s not temporary. It’s not reactive. We’re creating places where people can settle, grow, and heal.” In other words, home isn’t just a place, it’s a status. And it’s one everyone deserves.
That message is particularly critical in a field where the population served remains highly stigmatized. HIV-related housing carries a legacy of misunderstanding and marginalization, and Phillips has had to navigate the tension between advocacy and protection, raising awareness without compromising privacy or safety. It’s a delicate dance, but one she’s come to understand deeply.
“One of my big learning curves has been understanding how great it is to support a population that faces and fears extreme stigma,” she says. “We have to educate the public while respecting that our residents still face real discrimination.”
That dual approach, bold and careful, has become something of a trademark. Phillips is a strategist as much as she is a caregiver. She knows that permanent supportive housing works. The data proves it. Stable housing improves health outcomes, reduces emergency room visits, increases rates of viral suppression, and ultimately saves public dollars. But more than that, it changes lives.
Her leadership has brought that data to the forefront. As Chair of the National HIV/AIDS Housing Coalition, Phillips advocates on a national scale, working alongside organizations in Texas, Minnesota, Hawaii, and beyond. That role provides her with insight into broader systems and policy trends, which she brings back to Atlanta to refine local strategy.
It’s not always easy. Government funding, policy constraints, and public misconceptions can all act as barriers. But Phillips is pragmatic. “We lean into innovation while staying grounded in what’s realistic,” she says. “Our work is sustainable because we evolve constantly and plan carefully.”
Still, she’s clear about what’s needed: more funding. “This is a solvable issue, but only if we treat it like the urgent public health matter it is,” she says. Increased investment in housing services is non-negotiable if communities like hers are to thrive.
Internally, Phillips has cultivated a work culture that prioritizes care just as much as the programming does. That means generous paid time off, mental health initiatives like an annual Wellness Week, and a unique organizational tradition: each year, the entire team reads a book focused on personal empowerment. “We then discuss ways we can enact these new tools at home and in the office,” she explains. It’s leadership development disguised as self-reflection—and it’s working. Staff retention at Status: Home is unusually high, with some employees having stayed for over two decades.
But Phillips isn’t only focused on keeping her team happy. She’s training them to be excellent. She looks for team members with “innovation, agency, radical empathy, flexibility, and excellence”—a tall order, but a necessary one in work that often involves supporting residents through trauma, grief, and uncertainty.
And those relationships run deep. “One thing that’s unexpected, for some, is just how close our staff get to the residents,” she says. That closeness is what fuels the passion. It’s also what keeps the work from becoming purely administrative. “We’re not in the business of Band-Aids,” she adds. “People need stability. That’s the foundation for health, growth, and self-sufficiency.”
For Phillips, legacy isn’t measured in accolades, though there are plenty. She’s a Georgia Titan 100 and a Leadership Atlanta alum. But those honors pale in comparison to the real legacy: a resident who says, “This is the longest I’ve lived anywhere.” A grandmother raising her grandkids in peace. A family that no longer has to choose between medication and rent.
“That’s the legacy I care about,” Phillips says.
When the days are heavy, she resets with long walks and good documentaries. Outside of work, she’s passionate about family, books, and the kind of travel that gives her breathing room. But even in those quiet moments, the mission lingers. Because for Maryum Phillips, this work isn’t just a job. It’s a movement.
And at the center of that movement is a single, radical idea: that everyone deserves to feel at home, and that it’s time we start treating that as policy, not privilege.
Published by Jeremy S.
