How Emergency Responses Affect Those Experiencing Homelessness!

“The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” ― Maya Angelou

Whether people want to admit it or not: Homelessness, poverty, and the need for housing are severe problems in Auckland and Chicago. In response to what I've seen and experienced, I've been writing a post about 7 Differences and 7 Similarities between the 2 cities I've lived and worked in. After realising writing this will be a long journey, I've decided to post each "difference" and "similarity" as separate posts. 

Here's the 5th Difference: I try to answer this question; in the crisis of finding ourselves unhoused and unsure of where to go, how does each city respond to such a traumatic and devastating event? 

• Whenever someone faces homelessness for the first time: It's daunting! It's scary! It's traumatic! 
• It doesn't matter if you're alone or in a family, when the reality of being unhoused stares you in the face, homelessness is a daunting, scary, and traumatic experience! 
• It doesn't matter what someone's circumstances are, who's to blame, where people are located, why they ended up unhoused, or how tough a person may seem; homelessness is a daunting, scary, and traumatic experience! 
• Homelessness wounds. It leaves scars. It's never an experience people dream of or plan! It's overwhelming. It's crushing.

When homelessness strikes, in that moment of panic and fear, in that moment of desperation, people need immediate answers to the countless complex questions that quickly surface, questions they never thought they'd need to find solutions for. They need a bed. They need warmth. They need to feel secure. They need to feel safe. They need comfort. They need help, yet sadly, when facing the fear of the unknown, most people are frightened and alone, having absolutely no idea of whom to turn to, where to go, or what the process is.

Chicago and Tāmaki Makaurau respond to homelessness in vastly different ways. For 25 years, I worked in a homeless shelter where I guided people where to go, accepted people into our place, gave them a bed or mat to sleep on, and often became their case manager. I am used to the Chicago way, where homeless shelters are the initial entry point. These facilities are much more than "3 hots and a cot". Shelters' main goal is to offer wrap-around services, a short-term stay, where case managers guide and assist people toward whatever housing is appropriate. Even though that may be the goal, people often stay longer because there aren't enough affordable houses available.

When I started work at VisionWest, the NZ system was new. It was confusing to me. Auckland does not respond to or address homelessness with shelters. It embraces the Housing First model. The goal is to place people immediately into an appropriate permanent home, without the red tape, without any barriers, without an in-between stage, with wrap-around services to help sustain their tenancy. Even though that may be the goal, there aren’t enough affordable houses available, so emergency and transitional accommodation is always needed.

What appropriate permanent housing means differs on what each individual or whānau needs. Some are young, some are old, some need ongoing support, and some need just a little boost, but for all, the ultimate goal is that when people move into their place, they feel safe, secure, and satisfied and can sustain their tenancies. Both cities have programmes and funding designed to help people move into their own versions of permanent supportive housing, rapid rehousing, and market-rate housing. Let's look at 2 examples of 2 elderly single people around the same age who have faced homelessness, for the first time, on opposite sides of the planet. Let's look at their journeys toward finding a safe, permanent place to call home.

It's a frigid February morning on the southside of Chicago, and Rodney finds himself outside with a stuffed suitcase, no money, and nowhere to go. He had been living with his mother, but she had passed away, and the landlord booted him out. He doesn't know where to turn or whom to ask, so he wanders along the icy paths to a hospital, and they advise him to call the Homeless Prevention Call Center (311). They promise to send a van to pick him up and take him to a shelter. He just needs to wait.

The wait can take a few hours, so, at this point, many people give up and wander off to find somewhere to hunker down for the night. It's difficult waiting, Rodney had the hospital security tell him to relocate as it's only for patients, so he finds a bus stop outside. He's hungry. He's freezing cold. He gets questioned by the police. Whenever he needs to use the bathroom, he worries that he'll miss his all-important ride. Eventually, the van arrives with a couple of fellas and a woman facing the same plight, so he climbs in, thankful to escape the biting wind. The driver asks him personal questions and fills out the appropriate paperwork. Off they go. Rodney is driven to a part of the city he's never been to, a shelter on Chicago's Northside, to Cornerstone.

This may be Rodney's story, but most individuals or families who come to CCO, or any shelter, share similar experiences; the confusion, the phone call, the wait, the interview, the van drive with a few strangers, and then entering into a building full of strangers with their referral, being asked personal questions again by another stranger, eating meals with strangers, and being placed in a bed or room next to more strangers. Within hours, they've gone from isolation to being surrounded by new faces and bombarded by invasive questions. The process is frightening, overwhelming, and necessary, so many take off and sleep on a train or under a bridge instead. Rodney persevered, and as a result, he made lifelong friends and benefited from his case manager, who cared for him, advocated for him and helped him move into his own subsidized apartment. He remains there today!

I need to clarify something important; these personal questions are invasive and mandated by government funders. These often repeated questions trigger a lot of emotion as they look deeply into people's pasts and ask them what they are struggling with. Most people never have to answer such questions, especially to a stranger. Most social workers I know do not like asking these questions, but it is required! On both sides of the globe, it is an honour to work with people who care deeply for those they are supporting, as they don't want to add more trauma to an already traumatized person and will network with like-minded people for the sake of those in need. 

Now, let us travel down to Aotearoa to see how differently Auckland responds.

Rachael felt comfortable where she lived, but tragedy struck. Her landlord died, so new owners came in and told her to leave, which left her homeless! She is elderly and has life-threatening health concerns, so when this happened, she had no idea where to go or whom to turn to, which resulted in her sleeping with all her possessions in her car at a local petrol station. After enduring weeks of immense pain, she ventured over the hill to a Salvation Army, searching for assistance. This little drive saved Rachael's precious life because she found people who cared deeply for her and were willing to provide the help she desperately needed.

A few of us came together to help Rachael. Networking is vital. Over the following days, we journeyed with this fragile woman, advocating and ensuring she wasn't ignored and forgotten. We went to the appropriate government agency (MSD), asked her personal questions, got the necessary paperwork done, and within 36 hours, she was placed in emergency accommodation. She had gone from sleeping in her car to a nice comfortable hotel room. Unfortunately, her journey had a snag. That first night her pain was so severe that an ambulance had to be called. Rachael ended up in the ICU. After about 5 days, she could go back to the hotel, and then, after a couple of weeks, she was transferred into a transitional housing apartment, where she remains today. Presently, she is being assisted by her case manager to eventually move into a suitable permanent place.

Hotels, run by hoteliers, are used for emergency accommodation in Auckland. The first week is free, paid for by MSD, and then, people must renew their contract weekly and pay 25% of their income. Transitional housing is run by agencies, has support navigators, and the whānau pay 25% of their income to live there. They have their own private lockable rooms, their own cooking section, and their own private bathrooms. This is very different from the shelter system in Chicago, where people stay for free. Shelters are run by agencies, have case managers on-site, and are far less private. If Rachael was in Chicago and ended up in CCO, she would have been given a bed in a large room with over 50 other women, had to share meals in the dining room with well over 100 other residents, and would have to use the shared restrooms.

What I have illustrated here is a simplified version of 2 complex systems. We have 2 cities desperately trying to eradicate homelessness through initiatives, funding, vulnerability indexes, and referrals. It's worked out well for Rachael and Rodney, as they are both healthier and happily housed. But that's not the case for many: people are riding trains, people are sleeping in cars, people go from shelter to shelter for years, people are sleeping in tents, people are living under bridges, people are staying in abusive relationships, people are sleeping on the pavement in front of houses because they've got nowhere to go.

As I reflect on these 2 cities I deeply care about: It pains me to see glaring gaps in these systems, it pains me to see people who don't qualify for or suit the options available, and it pains me to know it's our most vulnerable who fall into those gaps. In Aotearoa, I see how a shelter could benefit those who don't qualify for emergency or transitional accommodation. In Chicago, there's a need for emergency hotels or transitional accommodations for those who don't qualify for shelters. Both cities could benefit from more creative and daring housing solutions to a very complicated problem with complex needs.

As I reflect on these 2 cities I deeply care about: I know too many people who are waiting, waiting, waiting, for their names to be called up to view a house - potentially their permanent home. The waiting lists are long. The waiting lists are only getting longer. This only makes these in-between emergency response solutions necessary. The problem is not dedicated workers. The problem is not the number of buildings. The problem is not a lack of supportive programs. The problem is we need more affordable housing. What we need are more owners and landlords who are willing to take subsidies, who are willing to give those unhoused a chance and take them into their properties.

As I reflect on these 2 cities I deeply care about: Our job is to cry out for more properties, and as we wait, our job is to work within these systems, walking with and beside our most vulnerable whānau, doing our best to find them somewhere safe and secure to lay their weary heads. When someone is housed, our job is to help them sustain their tenancies, so they do not need to go through all this again. 

To read the other differences (and eventually the similarities), and to see the context of this particular piece, please go to Homelessness in Chicago VS Homelessness in Auckland!

My intent in writing these is to break barriers, create awareness, bring justice, and provide compassion for those who are some of society's most vulnerable members, for those experiencing homelessness.