In the quieter neighborhoods of Henderson, Vera Jackson Moore is rewriting what it means to begin again

True Beginnings

Vera Jackson Moore Builds Second Chances in Las Vegas

BY BRIAN G. THORNTON

Las Vegas has long been a city of dazzling lights, towering resorts and a rhythm that draws the world to its famous Strip. But beyond the neon and spectacle lies another story — one of resilience, community and second chances. It is here, in the quieter neighborhoods of the Historic Westside, that Vera Jackson Moore is rewriting what it means to begin again.

A Black woman, mother of four and grandmother of three, Moore’s life has carried her from San Francisco to Virginia and ultimately to Nevada. Along the way, she has endured challenges that might have silenced others — including incarceration — yet she has transformed that lived experience into a mission of advocacy and hope. In 2013, she founded True Beginnings, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting justice-involved women and their families.

Through housing initiatives, trauma recovery, job readiness and leadership development, Moore and her team are helping women reclaim their place in society with dignity. Their work is as much about immediate care as it is about long-term transformation. From securing safe shelter for homeless mothers and children to creating pathways toward careers and self-sufficiency, True Beginnings stands as both a lifeline and a launchpad.

Her vision extends further still: Moore dreams of a warehouse space that doubles as a training hub and furniture workshop, where refurbished pieces become symbols of renewal and women learn skills that reshape their futures. In her words and her work, reupholstery is not just about fabric and wood — it is about restoring hope.

Moore’s story is aligned with Chic Compass’ ongoing mission: to reveal the soul of Las Vegas beyond its bright lights, to celebrate those who bind our community together and to highlight voices that remind us that reinvention is at the heart of this city.

She knows what it means to begin again. Thirteen years ago, she stood at a crossroads most would not survive. A history of incarceration, homelessness, substance misuse and domestic violence weighed heavily on her — until one call from her daughter shifted everything. Her daughter, a new mother, admitted she was homeless and collecting cans to eat.

“On Aug. 23, 2012, I took one last pull from my pipe, crushed it, flushed it and opened my front door. With $174 and $562 in food stamps, I moved my family so my daughter could finish college and my granddaughter wouldn’t inherit my curse. That was my true beginning.”

Moore said, “Why did I do it? To build a legacy. I didn’t want to leave this earth as a drug addict who abandoned my children. Death has always lingered in my thoughts, but I’ve been spared many times. In treatment, I learned something hard about myself: I had been a practicing narcissist. I love-bombed people, gaslit them and felt entitled. I wanted to change.”

From that leap of faith, Moore built a new life in Virginia. She helped young men find jobs, supported neighbors in need and became part of a powerful initiative that was recognized by the governor of Virginia for helping over 25,000 returning citizens regain their right to vote. By 2019, she had carried her calling westward, establishing True Beginnings in Las Vegas, determined to create a legacy of dignity and renewal for women whose struggles mirrored her own.

The Challenges of Reentry

When women first arrive at True Beginnings, they often expect another system of rules and restrictions. Instead, they find warmth, dignity and sisterhood. Food without obligation, furniture without stigma and interviews that ask about readiness rather than eligibility — every detail is designed to signal care.

“At True Beginnings, women are met with sisterhood — not just a program,” Moore said.

This foundation matters because women leaving incarceration often feel ostracized long before prison itself: rejected, traumatized and excluded from jobs and homes. By opening doors first, True Beginnings reverses rejection into welcome. Stable housing provides safety; healing work restores self-trust. Together, they create the ground on which women can rebuild.

“You cannot become a safe and whole member of the community until you are safe within yourself — and that only happens when someone first chooses to be a safe haven for you,” Moore explained.

A Leader Forged by Experience

Moore’s leadership is rooted in lessons both painful and profound. Her father, a Black Panther, was murdered when she was nine. Her mother, one of San Francisco’s first Black women police officers, raised her with strict rules and constant reminders that every move would be scrutinized.

“My lived experience has given me grit, empathy and vision,” she said. “It has taught me to lead not from authority, but from example.”

Through struggles with racism, housing discrimination and job loss, Moore learned resilience. She parented differently from her mother, giving her children a voice and teaching them to hustle with integrity. Those lessons shaped her view of leadership: compassionate, humble and grounded in service.

“My purpose revealed itself in Virginia. Some young men were dealing drugs behind my house, and I didn’t feel safe letting my granddaughter outside,” Moore said. “I asked them to leave; they said they couldn’t because no one would hire people with felonies and they had to get their money. I didn’t accept that. I made a deal: if I found them jobs, they’d stop. I found jobs for all of them, housing for one, and when he came to my door in tears, my husband told me: ‘Get an office. There will be more.’ And he was right — the work began. That was when I knew I was going to be a big fish in a little pond. My deepest desire is to create something bigger than myself, something worth every bit of sweat and something I could redirect my pain into while I heal from past pains.”

Las Vegas: A Complex Home

Las Vegas, Moore discovered, is a city of contradictions. On the surface, neighbors are polite and welcoming. Underneath, inequities persist: segregation in housing, inequitable schools and systemic barriers that still define opportunity.

“True Beginnings has a place in Las Vegas — not because people want it, but because it’s needed, whether they know it or not,” she insisted.

The Strip’s dazzling lights may mask the city’s deeper struggles, but Moore remains resolute. Her mission is not dependent on popularity; it is rooted in obedience to her calling.

Family as Anchor

At the heart of Moore’s philosophy is family. Without loved ones to fight for, many women falter. Her own children’s acceptance gave her the determination to change, and she has seen the same in others — mothers reunited with daughters, families mended through patience and perseverance.

“Our children are our legacy, our family is our anchor, and both are essential to recovery,” she said.

For women without family ties, True Beginnings becomes a chosen family, offering sisterhood and stability.
Systemic Change

Though Moore emphasizes personal responsibility, she is unflinching about Nevada’s urgent needs: higher wages, affordable housing, equitable education funding and probation practices that heal rather than punish.

“If Nevada really wanted reform, it would start with wages, housing and schools — the fundamentals every family needs to thrive,” she said.

Her advocacy often resists conventional definitions of “reform.” Rather than appeasing institutions, she chooses to stand firmly with the people.

Measuring Success

The proof of True Beginnings lies in its people. A mother once estranged from her daughter rebuilt trust and now works as a case manager. A woman determined to overcome addiction now leads community outreach and advocacy. A man who once lived in his car earned two degrees and today owns both a logistics company and an apartment building, housing others returning from incarceration. She went on to author “Taking Off My Old Coat,” a powerful novel chronicling her journey through incarceration, and later created the B.A.S.I.C.S. curriculum — an innovative program ultimately published as “The Ex-Offender Toolkit.”

“At the end of the day, no one person is bigger than the team and no team is bigger than the mission,” Moore said.

With over a 65% success rate in reducing recidivism, True Beginnings demonstrates that cycles can be broken.

The Next Five Years

Looking ahead, Moore envisions Amandla Village — a “doors open” initiative to reunite families, provide housing for women and children, and create a community space where healing and opportunity coexist.

“When we build together, no one gets left behind,” she said. “We are working to acquire a warehouse that will employ up to 200 formerly incarcerated people in the next five years. More than jobs, it will be a hub for training, work ethic and community collaboration, uniting organizations, Amandla Village housing and INS employment services to build a true bridge to transformation.”

Her call to the community is clear: invest, employ, mentor and show up. True Beginnings cannot thrive in isolation; it is a village effort.

Defining a True Beginning

Ultimately, a “true beginning” looks different for every woman. For some, it’s a new job or safe housing. For others, it’s a quiet pride in walking taller, loving themselves and rejecting old cycles.

“A true beginning is the courage to love yourself permanently — everything else flows from that,” Moore said.

The organization’s logo — a circle opening into a road — reflects that philosophy. It isn’t about one definition of success but about charting your own.

For further information to support True Beginnings in Las Vegas, visit truebeginningslv.org.