A New Hollywood Facility Will Provide Private Rooms, Wraparound Care, and Dignity for Pregnant and Postpartum Women
In the heart of Hollywood, just blocks from the Walk of Fame, a new building is rising with a quieter, more urgent purpose. Behind its modest walls will be 27 small rooms—each one private, each one locking—set aside for pregnant and postpartum women who otherwise might be sleeping in their cars, on sidewalks, or in encampments with newborns at their sides.
This is the promise of a new $9.3 million project from Aviva Family & Children’s Services and DignityMoves, a nonprofit developer pioneering modular “interim supportive housing” across California. Advocates describe it as a rare bright spot in Los Angeles’s housing crisis: trauma-informed care, focused on women and children who often slip through the cracks of both homeless services and maternal health systems.
Why It Matters
The facility, slated to open in 2027, will increase Aviva’s residential capacity by 50 percent and serve 40 to 50 families each year. Residents will typically stay up to 12 months, receiving wraparound support—from substance use treatment to case management and maternal health care.
“This population is particularly vulnerable,” said Elizabeth Funk, founder and CEO of DignityMoves. “Women having babies on the street—that can’t happen in our society.”
The project is funded through a mix of philanthropy and California’s Proposition 1 behavioral health dollars, designed to expand services for those with mental illness and substance use disorders.
A mother and her toddler at an Aviva program space in Hollywood. The new perinatal residential program will keep families together while parents receive treatment and support. (photo courtesy of Aviva Family & Children’s Services)
A Different Kind of Shelter
DignityMoves’ approach is deliberately unlike traditional mass shelters. Instead of rows of bunk beds in cavernous rooms, the Hollywood site will use prefabricated modular units placed on borrowed land—keeping costs low while creating stability for residents.
“Traditional shelters don’t work. People are still in crisis mode when they’re packed together,” Funk explained. “When you have your own room, your own door that locks, you’re finally in the mental place to deal with life’s challenges.”
The model has been tested in Santa Barbara, San Jose, and San Francisco. Each community saw initial skepticism from neighbors transform into support once the projects opened.
The Service Provider
While DignityMoves supplies the buildings, Aviva Family & Children’s Services will take on the day-to-day work of supporting families inside them. For Amber Rivas, Aviva’s president and CEO, the project is more than a pilot—it’s a model to be scaled.
“This program creates an opportunity for Hollywood to do something different and show other communities how families can stay intact while receiving services,” she said. “Once we show that it works, it can be replicated not just throughout Los Angeles, but nationwide.”
The facility will rise on long-vacant city-owned land (in partnership with Los Angeles City Council District 4), leased at no cost for 30 years. In the meantime, Aviva is making referrals and leveraging its existing interim housing program for women and children. However, Rivas admitted that options for pregnant and postpartum women are “frankly quite limited.”
Operating the program will cost an estimated $3.7 million annually. Medicaid reimbursements and county contracts will help, but philanthropy will remain essential. “Government contracts don’t cover the full cost of care,” Rivas said. “We’re fortunate to have supporters who step up to help sustain these programs.”
Community response has been positive so far. Aviva has worked closely with neighborhood councils, churches, and business leaders to frame the project as a community benefit.
Equity is also central to the vision. “The majority of the families we serve are Black and Brown,” Rivas said. “Our goal is to measure impact not just while they’re in treatment, but beyond—to lift up those families and show that outcomes can improve.”
What the Research Shows
Experts say the stakes couldn’t be higher. Pregnancy and postpartum homelessness are associated with increased maternal mortality, preterm birth, and low birth weight. Many women also face compounding risks: domestic violence, substance use disorder, and trauma.
“Homelessness during pregnancy is a public health emergency,” said a UCLA researcher whose work examines maternal health and housing at the UCLA Homelessness Policy Research Institute. She notes that women of color—particularly Black and Latina mothers—are disproportionately affected. “We see racial disparities layered on top of the housing crisis, creating vastly unequal outcomes for mothers and infants.”
A growing body of research, including analyses summarized by the Center for Health Care Strategies, finds that more than one in five postpartum deaths nationally involve suicide or overdose, and recommends integrated, family-centered models that combine perinatal care with SUD treatment and community supports (CHCS report).
The scale of Los Angeles’s crisis underscores the urgency: the 2025 Greater Los Angeles Homeless Count points to persistently high levels of homelessness countywide, with women disproportionately unsheltered (LAHSA Homeless Count).
The Challenges Ahead
The Hollywood project is groundbreaking, but it is also modest. Los Angeles County has thousands of unhoused families, many headed by single mothers. A 27-bed facility barely scratches the surface.
Rivas acknowledged the scale gap but framed the facility as a starting point. “Every community looks different,” she said. “Homelessness is not a one-size-fits-all problem. The solution has to be tailored depending on the needs and strengths of each community.”
Funk echoed the point, emphasizing what she calls the “demonstration effect.” “If people see that for not a whole lot of money we can build something safe, clean, and effective—then we can rinse and repeat.”
A Different Metric of Success
For Funk, success shouldn’t be measured only by how quickly someone moves into permanent housing. “We measure the wrong things,” she argued. “For some, just thriving—sleeping through the night, eating three meals a day, feeling safe—that should be enough.”
That philosophy, she believes, is especially important for mothers with newborns. “If the mother gets well, and the child is cared for, that’s success.”
Looking Forward
Funk dreams of scaling the model statewide. “Five years from now, there’s no reason anyone should be sleeping on the streets in California,” she said. “Ending the housing crisis will take decades. But ending street homelessness is possible right now.”
Rivas echoed that hope. “Our goal is to strengthen the continuum of care for women and children in Los Angeles,” she said. “This program is one step toward making sure no mother has to give birth or raise a newborn on the street.”
For Los Angeles, the question is whether city leaders—and the public—are willing to embrace a model that prioritizes speed, dignity, and incremental progress over the perfect but elusive goal of permanent housing for all.
In the meantime, for the 40 families who will find safety inside the Hollywood facility each year, the stakes are immediate and deeply personal. As Funk put it: “Women shouldn’t have to choose between keeping their baby safe and surviving the night.”