Who is Tylor Chase? From Nickelodeon fame to homelessness—and why his mother halted fundraisers

Early 2000s kids won’t ever forget Tylor Chase.

Long before a viral video reintroduced him to the internet, Chase was a familiar face in after-school TV rituals—best known as Martin Qwerly on Nickelodeon’s Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide. The show ran from 2004 to 2007, and for a generation of viewers, Martin’s quiet presence was just as memorable as the chaos around him.

Born on September 6, 1989, in Arizona, Chase stepped into acting as a teenager in the early 2000s, landing roles that placed him squarely inside the golden era of Nickelodeon. On Ned’s Declassified, he starred alongside Devon Werkheiser and Daniel Curtis Lee, becoming part of a trio that defined middle-school TV for millions of children.

His face popped up beyond the Nickelodeon universe too—on Everybody Hates Chris in 2005 and in the indie film Good Time Max in 2007, according to IMDb. Even if audiences didn’t always remember his name, they remembered him—and for years, that was enough.

In September, a video surfaced on TikTok showing Chase living on the streets of Riverside, California, in a visibly disheveled state. The clip, which has since resurfaced and gone viral again, prompted widespread concern online.

In one widely shared moment, the person filming asks Chase if he used to be on Disney Channel.
“Nickelodeon,” Chase corrects her, before confirming that he was on Ned’s Declassified and stating his full name.
“Oh yeah, you’re that kid on it,” the fan responds.

The interaction, brief but heartbreaking for longtime viewers, quickly spread across social media.

Following the viral clip, TikTok user @lethallalli (Citlalli Wilson) launched a GoFundMe campaign to help Chase with food and basic necessities. The fundraiser raised over $1,200 before it was voluntarily shut down—at the request of Chase’s mother.

Wilson later shared screenshots of text messages explaining why the fundraiser was stopped.

“Yes, Tylor needs medical attention not money. But he refuses it. I appreciate your effort. But money would not be a benefit to him. I have gotten him several phones, but he loses them within a day or two. He can’t manage money or his meds by himself…. it could possibly hurt him… he is a good sweet kid. But he does need medical help.”

Chase’s mother revealed that her son is dealing with bipolar disorder and ongoing financial difficulties, stressing that his situation requires medical intervention and long-term care, not short-term financial aid.

Her comments shifted the conversation online—from fundraising to broader questions about mental health support and systemic gaps for former child actors.

Chase’s former Ned’s Declassified co-stars addressed the situation earlier this year on their podcast, Ned’s Declassified Podcast Survival Guide.

They reflected on their mixed emotions after seeing the viral footage:

“When I first saw it, I was angry because I’m like, why put a camera in someone’s face when they’re on hard times? But then after I was angry at the people who were filming it, I was upset with myself in that I feel powerless because I feel like there’s not much I can do.”

Actor Daniel Curtis Lee later visited Chase and urged fans not to look for “quick fixes,” emphasizing that stability, housing, and long-term medical care are essential.

Despite the attention and concern, locals reported that Chase remained on the streets toward the end of 2025. While many fans expressed heartbreak and frustration, others questioned whether filming and sharing the video was ethical in the first place.

The resurfaced clip has reignited conversations about the long-term struggles faced by child actors once fame fades, and how the industry—and society—often fails to provide sustained support.

As of now, updates shared by those who encountered Chase indicate that he has received basic care and wellness checks, but his situation remains unresolved.

For many viewers who grew up watching Ned’s Declassified, the story has become more than a viral moment—it’s a sobering reminder of what can happen when early fame collides with untreated mental health challenges and limited safety nets.