Potential has somewhere to live

When Sam Prater talks about Dunamis House, a residence on Los Angeles’ Eastside that can house up to 64 young people, he starts more than 2,000 miles away in his hometown of Detroit. 

That’s where his godparents ran a small church ministry called Dunamis. After Sam’s mother died, they took in four of his siblings, giving his father some much-needed relief and helping hold the family together.

When one of his godparents died years later, Sam wanted to honor him and the sacrifice they had made for his family. He carried the ministry’s name with him to Los Angeles, giving it to the home he created for young people experiencing homelessness and hunger.

“Dunamis means power and potential,” Sam says. “That really encapsulated what I wanted our students who lived here to feel.”

Dunamis House is part of Los Angeles Room & Board, a nonprofit Sam founded to end college student and youth homelessness and hunger, so students have a real chance at finishing their degrees. Along with housing, students receive meals, mental health and academic support, financial education, and career preparation. Together, those services provide the kind of stability Sam often went without as a kid. 

Another life across Eight Mile

Growing up, Sam was one of 14 children in a three-bedroom house. He remembers the noise, the faith, the family, and the feeling that there was never a dull moment. He also remembers coming home to no dinner and living without lights or heat while his father tried to make things work for a family of 16. Those memories still shape the spaces he creates for young people.

“When I think about how I structure and build spaces for our young people, I’m always thinking about what that was like for me when I didn’t have things,” Sam says.

Money became visible to Sam early. He remembers crossing Eight Mile Road in Detroit and seeing a version of life that felt brighter. On one side was the neighborhood he knew. On the other, where his godparents lived, the lawns were lush, the houses were beautiful, and something different seemed possible. His godparents made that life feel less distant. 

“I can aspire for more because they did it,” he says.

Sam could imagine a different future, but he wasn’t prepared for how soon he’d be expected to find his own way. 

He didn't call it homelessness

Sam’s father had what the family called the “18 and out” rule: If you didn’t have life figured out by then, you had to figure it out somewhere else. Sam wasn’t joining the military, heading to college, or starting a family, so he left home and tried to make it on his own. Unprepared for independent living, he was quickly evicted from his first apartment and began couch surfing with a friend, who was later evicted, too.

Within a year, Sam had been evicted twice and was living out of his car. At the time, he didn’t think of himself as experiencing homelessness. To him, homelessness meant living in a tent under a freeway overpass. He didn’t have the language for what it meant to be young, unstable, and just trying to get through the day. “When you’re going through it, it’s survival,” he says. “You still gotta eat, you still gotta go to work, and you still gotta show up in the world every day.”

His credit suffered, too. Sam says he didn’t get a handle on his personal finances until his 30s. Before then, poor credit followed him. He remembers buying a car with an interest rate of nearly 24% because he needed transportation and didn’t have better options.

“You have to just kind of do what you have to do,” he says.

Those years still shape the way Sam talks to young people about money, housing, and the choices that can follow them for a long time.

Making a map from the wrong turns

At Dunamis House, students don’t pay rent. Their meals are covered, too. That gives Sam an opportunity to talk with them about money and stability before the stakes get higher. If a student wants a car, for example, he walks them through the full cost, including insurance, gas, maintenance, and whether buying used or waiting might be a better move.

He also talks with students about using credit responsibly and paying it down quickly. Sam knows the lessons don’t always land the first time, but he’d rather repeat them than watch someone learn through eviction, debt, or a decision that follows them for years.

“People say that experience is the best teacher,” he says. “I argue that experience is the teacher of a fool. Sometimes you need to listen to wisdom.” 

That’s what Sam tries to offer. He’s made some of those mistakes himself. He remembers what they cost, and he wants the young people around him to have a chance at a different outcome.

“I had this experience,” Sam says. “And because I had this experience, I don’t want you to have that experience.”

First came the keys, then came the questions

Sam’s own financial life is something he’s still working through. In 2021, he bought a home in Los Angeles, a milestone he describes as both a privilege and one of the most significant investments a person can make. 

The house is 117 years old, so there’s almost always a repair or renovation to plan around. Some expenses fit within his paycheck, while others require more careful decisions about credit, timing, and what he can responsibly afford.

He’s also planning for what happens when his adjustable-rate mortgage changes. The first eight years are locked at 2.5%, but a higher rate down the road could mean a much larger monthly payment. Before then, he may need to decide whether to sell and move, refinance, or invest more in the property 

“Uncertainty feels like a twin sister to anxiety,” Sam says. But uncertainty also makes him curious. He wants to learn enough to make an informed decision, and when he finds something useful, he’s already thinking about how to pass it on.

When time is the real return

Buying a home changed the way Sam thought about taxes. He felt as though he’d entered a new stage of adulthood. With a home, student loans, charitable donations, and other details to consider, he began wondering whether he should work with an accountant instead of filing online.

Then an accountant friend told him he used TurboTax, which helped Sam feel more confident using it himself. "It's so intuitive," Sam says. "It's so user-friendly." TurboTax gave him a guided way to move through the process, with prompts that helped him think through the year and understand what information he needed. He could manage his federal and state taxes in one place, and he appreciated knowing up front how long the process was expected to take. “I know exactly how to budget my time,” he says.

That’s important because Sam’s days are already full. Between running the nonprofit, supporting young people, and moving between properties, he has little time to spare. Knowing how long filing should take helps him plan for it.

“The last thing you want to do is pore over mountains of receipts and documents,” he says. TurboTax guides him through the process without taking over the rest of his day.

"Time is precious," Sam says. "Having a tool like TurboTax allows me the liberty and the freedom to enjoy the very limited time that we have."

Hope has a staff meeting

Most mornings around 5:30, Sam checks his phone to make sure he hasn’t missed an overnight emergency call from his staff, then moves on to emails, meetings, site visits, and check-ins across the organization.

Fortunately, he’s not carrying that work alone. In the beginning, Sam was the only staff member, handling fundraising, case management, meals, and cleaning. Today, Los Angeles Room & Board has a staff of nearly 30. 

“This is a team effort,” he says. “Can’t get anything done without them.”

Sam describes his team as people who bring heart and compassion to the job every day. Together, they’re helping young people stay housed, stay fed, stay in school, and see that there’s still a way forward.

The chance to change what happens next

For Sam, the mission reaches beyond the services students receive each day. It’s also about safety, support, and helping them hold on to a future they can still imagine. That’s why Dunamis House is designed to surround young people, not just house them.

Sam knows what it’s like to come home and not have enough, to be young and unprepared and just trying to survive, and to have someone step in at exactly the right moment. Now he wants to be that person for someone else.

“I’m here to be a vessel of hope,” Sam says. “I’m here to keep people safe. I’m here to equip them with all the tools that they need to get through this hard life. I’m here to make some kind of difference in this big city, trying to make some small impact.”

He also sees the work as a way to honor the people who stepped in for him. “I’m here to do what I can to pay for all the kindness that I’ve received; to pay for all the love that I have received over my life.”

At Dunamis House, the care that once held Sam’s family together now helps young people see their own power and potential.