The Interview: Rob Banghart of Shine A Light
A conversation about purpose, relationships, and effective case management
The other week I wrote about the difference between “efficient” and “effective” organizations in the social service sector, and then a follow-up on markers of effective organizations. To ground these ideas, I want to publish interviews and case studies that demonstrate effective work, beginning with Shine A Light Foundation in Las Vegas. Rob Banghart, Shine A Light’s vice president of community integration, sat down with me for an interview.
Shine A Light is a homeless outreach and placement service with a primary mission to reach those living in the 600-plus miles of storm-drain tunnels under the city, where as many as 1,500 people live. The organization’s model is long-term case management for those experiencing homelessness. Weekly, the team, along with volunteers, go into the tunnels with supplies—water, batteries, flashlights, socks, and food. This is where the relationships begin. Then, when people are ready to accept more help, Shine A Light’s comprehensive program supports them for up to two years. Its case workers are the through-line for individuals moving from detox and into treatment, transitional housing, and, eventually, independent living.
I’ve come to know several case managers at Shine A Light. Each can stand in front of a room and speak eloquently about their organization, its services, and their own recovery—it’s impressive. The other unique thing is that Shine A Light operates almost solely on private donations, allowing maximum flexibility to serve clients in a sustained, personalized way. I encourage you to read the testimonials of people who’ve accepted help through the organization—their words make a great companion piece to this interview, in which Rob speaks about mindsets, purpose, relationships, and legacy.
Connect with Shine A Light on Instagram, or you can give to them here. — Steph
What is Shine A Light’s purpose?
At a basic level, we’re a relationship-building and referral service. We call it “continuity case management”—we offer additional case management services to what’s offered through the safety net of recovery. Partner agencies—including detox, treatment centers, sober living, and outpatient facilities—existed before us. All we did was create an honest pathway to recovery. Our model is called IPATH, which stands for Instant Placement with Access to Treatment and Housing.
Here’s a way to think of it. Consider I bought you a car. I took it apart, then spread the parts out in your driveway. It’s great that you have them, but it’s not a car anymore. Each piece is effective, but it isn’t working together. This is the recovery system—it’s not designed to succeed. Agencies fight for the same grants, certain places can’t take this or that insurance, and there are different perspectives and beliefs about recovery.
I went through detox 50 times—literally 50 times. Each time, I completed, and those facilities reported it as a successful completion because they’re hyper focused on the moment, not the journey, when we know that the first 18 months of recovery are the most critical time. That’s when people need to be supported, guided, and mentored.
How do you foster positive, trust-based relationships?
It starts with authenticity and is informed by lived experience. We help people get to a positive outcome—but it’s their outcome, not ours. It’s their timeline, not ours. We are all about the client.
When someone decides to come in, within an hour, we pick them up. We’ve never had a waiting list. Immediately, the “triangle” engages: the client, our case manager, and the case manager at the placement facility. The triangle model ensures that along the entire recovery journey, there are always two points of contact and support. Those who come in through us don’t know it at the time, but advocates and volunteers across the community will begin to identify them as “Shine” clients as well—including judges in Clark County.
Remember, these are people rebuilding their entire lives. Their existence has become very primal. You loose hope on the streets. You don’t think about anything other than the next 10 minutes. Imagine if you hadn’t used a phone in five years. It could take you a month to be comfortable enough to sleep in a bed.
How is your organization responsive to its context?
We were originally associated with a treatment center, then eventually separated to become a stand-alone 501(c)3. In the beginning, we didn’t know if the community would buy into our model, but the system softened. People grew more willing to work with us. They saw the benefit for everyone involved.
We continue to evolve. For example, we began to realize there were specific pillars we could build within our overall program, including WINGS—Women Inspiring New Growth and Strength, which is super strong.
How do you prioritize depth over speed?
You plant a seed, then just keep watering it. As an industry, how we track outcomes is inconsistent, financially motivated, and only capturing short-term outcomes, so it took us a lot of years to develop an emphasis on relationships and hope. In Shine A Light’s first year, we got 12 people out of the tunnels, but that was enough to help shift the narrative.
We track everything through our case management. For example, a guy came to our offices for months straight during the hot summer to charge his phone. He was a big talker, and I built a rapport with him. I used to say, “Here’s the deal … I love you, and you get 200 words a day with me. I gotta work.” But then I’d watch him, and he began helping out the community, doing service work. He bought in because of what he saw. Then, he disappeared. Two months later, we get a call that he’d accepted help through a different program. Since then, we’ve also heard he relapsed.
Everyone’s story is different. That’s the point, not the problem.
The model could be replicated anywhere. Yet, how do we typically deal with problems in a city? Someone gets on a panel, their soapbox, complains about it, and we give them money and votes. But do you really believe the problems are affected? No. It goes back to the car engine analogy.
How does your internal culture match external values?
There’s no difference. None at all. That’s the difference. We’re like a family. We offer a lot of grace; we’ve been in each other’s lives for many years. Jokingly, my team calls me the uncle, or the older brother, because I hold them spiritually accountable, support them, love them, because we’re all recovering from something.
This is a lifestyle for us. It’s a 24-hour-a-day job, and our work is not distinct from who we are. We’re going against the grain in ways—it’s still edgy—but it draws attention because people see how it is beneficial.
How do you build an organization that learns?
We help our team grow through trainings, setting personal goals, etc., and each individual is different, so that means something unique for each person. We all have our own pathways of recovery. We do have goals based on the programs that we’re overseeing, but we’re very fluid: did we show up? Are we creating safe spaces where people can develop and take ownership?
I’m here every day, seven days a week, so I’m in constant contact with everyone, and I wear different hats: “This is me talking to you as your friend,” or “This is me talking to you as your boss.” But I don’t know who, on my team, is here right now, because they have jobs to do. They’re empowered.
How do you live the values of equity and inclusion?
It’s empathy at a different level. What we’ve grown into is this: we are a community, and everyone knows pain, and everyone knows crisis. It’s a human experience.
We’ve always been attracted to finding our people. The president of a health insurance company, for example—she was affected by our work. She was moved. That’s our people. That’s the common thread in all of it … we have empathy, we have compassion, we connect. The lived experience helps with our clients, but it doesn’t make anyone less effective. Kindness is nobody’s trigger.
How do you think about your organization’s legacy?
Our staff is our product. The lives that we live today are our legacy. We do recover. Almost seven years ago, I was homeless, and now I am living this life.
A large part of what I do, and have fallen in love with, is advocacy. This is a community issue; it needs a community answer. We may be the guides, but at the end of the day, it’s every single person rolling up their sleeves to get involved.
We forget that people on the streets are somebody’s brother. Somebody’s father. Somebody’s son. These are human beings. We put labels on them, but they are somebody’s somebody … in crisis.
It’s a gift to exist. And with existence comes suffering. There’s no escape from that. I guess I’m either a Catholic or a Buddhist when I say that, but I didn’t learn I was grateful for the thing I most wish hadn’t happened—I realized it. If you are grateful for your life, then you have to be grateful for all of it. You can’t pick and choose. —Stephen Colbert