Five miles away, a mom unzips the tent door, peeks out to see the sun rising over a steady stream of early commuters. The 405 is already getting jammed up and it's not even rush hour proper yet. I don't know what follows next. They go to look for food or scrounge to find leftovers stashed in the corner of the tent? Maybe they know of a soup kitchen or church that offers breakfast once a week. Then another summer day stretches out before them, waiting to be filled with what must be done just to meet their most basic of needs.
It's hard to not think about the homeless population in Los Angeles. While we could avert our eyes from the panhandlers in Richmond or the huddled masses of homeless men on the MLK Jr. Boulevard of almost any city, L.A. is a labyrinth of homes, apartments, tents, RVs and vans. Everyone here has an opinion on how to address this issue and they will tell you...in barber shops, grocery stores, on the local radio stations. Everyone wants to fix it, no one knows where to start. It is the result of decades of poor decisions, exacerbated by the law they passed in 2007, which allows the homeless to set up camp on the city's sidewalks. Meant to offset the shelter shortage L.A. was experiencing at the time, it has become a permanent solution to a rapidly growing population's most basic need. A temporary fix has become an eyesore and, in many cases, dangerous. The city officials have scurried to construct or renovate shelters, but no self-respecting resident wants a homeless shelter in their neighborhood.
Can you blame them?
It's the very reason why Australia was colonized. Send them over there.
Except the only potentially habitable frontier is exoplanets so, for now, we must find a place for them here.
I will, begrudgingly, admit that I have echoed the likes of Ebenezer Scrooge when talking about the homeless population. With firsthand knowledge of homelessness limited to the one time I moved in with my grandmother when my best friend ended her lease and moved (I was living in her entryway at the time), I have often found myself exclaiming, "Why don't they go to the shelters? Why can't the churches take them in?" But some life experience and Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond (a sociology professor at Princeton University) are teaching me that the issue is infinitely more complex.
In recommending Evicted (which is set in Milwaukee) to someone, I may go so far as to suggest reading the epilogue first. In it, Desmond explains that to truly immerse himself in the homeless experience, he moved into the trailer park where some of the individuals in his book lived. And then when the trailer park was condemned, he moved to Milwaukee's north side, into a rooming house with a security guard he knew. But, of course, he has 2 degrees, has taught at Harvard and everyone around him knew he was writing a book. He didn't have the true experience. But I suspect he got pretty darn close.
Evicted compares and contrasts two worlds: the one where tenants are scraping Social Security benefits and pocket change together to make rent (or at least try to keep from getting evicted) while landlords express concerns about how many times the police are called to their properties or what to do about late rent payments. Throughout the book, someone is hustling and someone is getting hustled, but who is doing what is constantly shifting. Because Desmond wore a recording device the entire time he lived among his subjects, he has included verbatim conversations throughout the book, especially once his neighbors relaxed their guard around him. Although one woman was convinced he was undercover with Child Protective Services the entire time, even asking again when he saw her again after a couple of years.
Desmond spends much of his time following individuals and families around as they seek to secure housing, which is challenging because of their previous evictions, arrest records and what they can afford to pay versus what most landlords are charging, even for substandard housing. Some landlords won't rent to African Americans, some refuse to rent to a single mom of 4 kids, many will turn a blind eye to all of that, but the evictions come swiftly as soon as the police are called for a noise violation. Although the book only follows the stories of about 10 people, the number of times they are able to procure housing and then find themselves on the street again in just a few months' time is dizzying. It is the vicious cycle I always assumed it was, but with a million more motives driving the actions of everyone involved. And I never knew there is a mathematical calculation for what it should cost for housing: 30% of your income. More than that and something will give. It isn't sustainable. When someone is completely dependent on disability and SSI, 30% isn't much.
There are shelters. But they only allow people to stay for so long and if it's a shelter for women and children, perhaps your 16-year old son won't be welcomed. So, Desmond offers a housing allowance, a kind of voucher system, as a partial solution. He explains it better than I can but, needless to say, it involves some government assistance to span the chasm between 30% of a homeless person's income and what the landlord is charging.
And there are other factors, too...mental health and drug or alcohol abuse problems, the loss of a job, death of a spouse, a serious national financial crash. When the law allowing homeless people to sleep on the sidewalks was passed in 2007, it actually set the stage for the tent cities that are now commonplace all over Los Angeles, even in Beverly Hills and Bel Air. Massive foreclosures in 2008 pushed people into the streets, mortgages skyrocketed which sent rents soaring...which pushed more people into the streets. Skid row bled into every artery around Los Angeles. Eventually, the markets stabilized but the housing shortage in L.A. continues. The cost of living is still climbing. It is a wonder how anyone can afford a roof and a bathroom out here. Even at the bank across the street from our house there is a banner reading, "Apartment loans available." That isn't an invitation to become a landlord; it is so people can afford the first and last month's rent, plus the security deposit, which could easily total $12,000.
During our book club meeting, one of the participants suggested that the best way to begin helping the homeless is to start closest to home. That may mean helping someone in the family or a neighbor. As she spoke, my mind was drawn back to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. When we toured the Amish countryside last fall, our guide took a moment to point out the Amish homes, which sprawl across an acre or more of their family farms. The Amish don't sell their homes; they build an addition when an elderly family member is no longer able to live alone. Multiple generations living under one roof, caring for each other. For the record, Lancaster has a homeless population that hovers around 320 people while Los Angeles weighs in around 50,000. I understand that one city is significantly larger than the other but the difference in city size does not justify the difference in the size of the homeless population.
I enjoyed reading Evicted and discussing it with others who all brought a different perspective to the conversation. I don't know that it solves the crisis, but it certainly opens up the dialogue, which is what our book club is all about. Even after I turned the last page, I continue to contemplate the issue, reading article after article about homelessness in towns from Los Angeles to Lancaster. And that is, to me, what makes a book worth reading.
