A New Spring: How Community Spring Changed My Life
My name is Leigh Scott, and a little while ago, I began a journey that fundamentally changed my life: I became a Fellow at Community Spring. It wasn’t just another line on my résumé; it was a profound period of growth, learning, and genuine empowerment.
I’ve written before about losing my wife, struggling through addiction, and being sent to prison instead of getting the mental health care I needed. Those experiences shaped me, and they are why the Community Spring fellowship became such a turning point.
At Community Spring, I had the privilege of co-designing Links Not Locks, a campaign that explored the painful intersection of incarceration and behavioral health. This wasn’t abstract policy work; it was personal. As a formerly incarcerated individual who had endured unimaginable loss, I had navigated every level of the mental health and substance use system. At the same time, I was working full-time at GRACE Marketplace, a large homeless shelter, where I saw the same broken systems harming people every day. I didn’t just study the issues Links Not Locks aimed to address; I lived them.
What set Community Spring apart was how they treated me. In other spaces, my lived experience was often tokenized or dismissed. I was told that things were just the way they were, or that I should come back once I had a degree. My hard-earned knowledge, born of pain and resilience, was seen as less valuable than academic credentials.
Community Spring was different. From day one, they saw me as a whole person, capable, valuable, and worth listening to. My insights weren’t just tolerated, they were sought out and respected. Instead of a dismissive we can’t help everyone, I was met with encouragement: Tell us more, show us what can be better.
That trust fueled a powerful sense of agency. I was pushed to research, dig deeper, and articulate solutions. My voice wasn’t just heard, it was elevated. I was introduced to local leaders not as an impacted person, but as an expert—a social worker, a member of the community whose perspective mattered. That acknowledgement built me up in ways I hadn’t realized I desperately needed.
My fellowship became a rich tapestry of learning. I joined listening sessions that expanded my perspective, participated in group therapy that provided emotional support, and explored new ways of learning that deepened my understanding. The lessons I gained continue to shape my work and my life today.
The relationships I built at Community Spring are lifelong. I found friends and colleagues who share a passion for justice and a commitment to creating a better world. Together, we didn’t just look at our community; we built a new ecosystem. Real change took root in Gainesville. And I wasn’t an afterthought in that change. I was an expert, helping to lead it.
Since my fellowship, I have continued to stay deeply involved in our community. I now serve as Director of Community Outreach at Released Reentry, where I get to walk alongside people coming home from incarceration and help connect them with resources, encouragement, and hope. My work builds on everything I learned at Community Spring and allows me to give back in a way that feels like a calling.
Outside of work, I have a full life as a husband, father, and grandfather. The seeds of possibility that Community Spring planted continue to ripple through my family and my community.
Community Spring didn’t just give me an opportunity; it gave me perspective, purpose, and validation. And it taught me the power of authentic inclusion and the transformation that happens when lived experience is valued.
Here’s to Community Spring, a place where voices are amplified, insights are honored, and lives are changed.
Author’s Note: If you’re interested in more of my journey through grief, incarceration, and navigating broken systems, you can read my earlier blogs.