Vulnerability

One the rare occasion one finds an article or editorial sympathetic to the plight of homeless people, the word “vulnerable” is often used. But I wonder if they, or we, even realize just how vulnerable we really are.

Whenever I’m at the shelter, I can easily spot dozens of wrongs that, in any other situation would be labeled a civil rights violation: women publicly humiliated about personal health conditions, lack of access for the disabled, improper cleanliness of the facilities, among other things. Unfortunately, the shelter I go to, and many others are exempt because 1) they are run by religious organizations, and 2) they receive no government funding. Therefore, they are not obligated to abide by HIPAA, ADA, or the any of the other laws pertaining to institutions and civil rights.

So, where does that leave us?

The shelter does provide forms with which to write a grievance. However, there is no formal grievance policy to ensure that 1) the grievances are heard, and 2) there is no risk of retaliation for filing a grievance. Which brings me to my second point: The staff is very, very small. How can one be certain that a grievance will be taken seriously amongst a staff of half a dozen members?

Perhaps we should appeal to public and garner their sympathies…

What sympathies? In Toronto, a program that brings in "starchitects" and upscale furniture designers to renovate local homeless shelters has gone under fire:

“A lot of the housing for the homeless is offered under the premise that these people don’t deserve good housing,” says [Victor Willis, executive director at Parkdale Activity Recreation Centre in Toronto], who partnered with Public Displays of Affection, a Toronto-based design cooperative that teaches free design workshops and aims to bring designer wares to at-risk communities. “(The attitude is) they don’t respect themselves and so why should we?”

And that’s not just a Canadian sentiment: In Coeur D’Alene, ID, the closing of a neighborhood homeless shelter brings no sympathy from the citizenry. (Read the comments at the bottom. Or better yet, don’t.) And in Burlington, KY, debate has sprung up over whether homeless people should even given the right to vote because they are unable to register a proper address. Here in Nashville, there is a movement called the Nashville Downtown Partnership that actively discourages giving money to homeless panhandlers on the presumption that “they often use your money to support their addictions to alcohol and drugs.”

But what if there was a way? What if, one day, a big-shot attorney or a well-respected journalist finds this blog post. Then with his or her help, we start a media campaign to bring light to all of the injustices served at this shelter and others like it, and under the pressure of the community or under the pressure fix all of the hazards and retrain staff to properly cater to the needs of its clients, the shelter closes...

And there would be no where else to go.

And that is where our true vulnerability lies. There are some who admire the idea of not being tied down to one place and having to the freedom to do and move about as we please, but what they and what most people realize is that we are trapped.

We can't demand better treatment. Who'll be willing to give it to us?

We can't demand respect. We "don't respect ourselves."

We can't plead for understanding when people refuse to listen.

And this is what it's like to be homeless. And this is what I and millions of other men, women, and children live with on a daily basis.

And it's terrifying.