According to a March article by Glenn Thrush in The New York Times, homelessness in the U.S. has risen for the fourth straight year, attributed to a survey by the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. Thrush said about 580,000 people (many of whom were single) were living on the streets or in temporary shelters at the start of 2020, before the pandemic.
This data was based on a single night in January of 2020 and did not accurately paint a picture of homelessness in our country. Still, this pronounced underestimation of the crisis of homelessness is the data that is used to determine the allocation of funds toward programs and resources used to combat it. This same survey cited an increase of 27% between 2019 and 2020 in the state of Delaware.
But I don’t need statistical data to prove that there is a problem with the way in which states collect data on people and families experiencing homelessness and seek to support them. I live it, and I’ve been living it since July 2019.
I want to be fair and say that, during my journey, I have been led to some awesome programs, such as Vera’s Haven Transitional Housing, that work to prevent families from ending up in motel rooms or overcrowding in family’s or friends’ homes, but this is a temporary fix. I am at a loss for words when it comes to the resources and the channels that you must go through just to receive temporary assistance to a prolonged issue.
I have lived in motels, and these places are not fit for families; however, this is the solution that is offered from the state service centers in various locations in the state of Delaware.
I am guessing that there are no standards for these situations because these places that families are being placed are deplorable. They are oftentimes bedbug- and roach-infested places. Any person or family with a motel voucher is treated with a less-than-desirable demeanor, as though people experiencing homelessness do not deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. What criteria must these vendors meet in order to be contracted by the state? Who is inspecting these properties to ensure that they are habitable, and where are the client advocates who will ensure that these individuals and families are not further traumatized by being unexpectedly ousted from a place they have lugged their belongings to?
How do we put a stop to chronic homelessness? Once a person finds him- or herself in a living situation that is unstable, their livelihood becomes unstable, as well, which inevitably impacts their ability to care for their family. In speaking with an employee of Housing Alliance Delaware on Aug. 12, 2021, I mentioned a young man, currently employed and experiencing chronic homelessness, who was sleeping at the Smyrna rest stop so that he can be close enough to make it into work, and I was met with the response, “And what’s the concern?” If this is the attitude of the employees put in position to make a difference in the lives of the residents of the state of Delaware, then where should we turn for assistance?
It is time to take a closer look at not only the circumstances which land people into homelessness but the systems in place which might work to keep them in that position. This includes things like lack of affordable housing, rent inflation due to the COVID-19 pandemic, or my experience with the sudden need for a 650–670 credit score that is being required by some property managers, where the required score to rent was 580 last year. How is it possible to have so many vacant properties in the state of Delaware and no programs in place to assist families that need stable/permanent places of residence?
I am not dismissing the first-time homebuyer programs, emergency shelters or even transitional housing. However, there needs to be safeholds in place for individuals and families currently in between the steps that people need to take for elevation. That is, the space that many people find themselves in that is called chronic homelessness. They are almost, but not quite, eligible for permanent residency.
I am in this situation, and I was not always in this place. I have had great jobs and had the opportunity to reside in nice rental properties. However, my family and I are currently facing homelessness, and I am defined as chronically homeless, and I am not alone in this sort of situation. I have a job, am a sophomore at Delaware Technical Community College, and I home-school my children. We need affordable housing.
What is the solution, and who are the right people to talk to about it? This is the worst reality for a family trying their best to make ends meet, with what seems like no resources in a state filled with nothing but resources. I have called the housing alliance, and I have lived in shelters, motels and, most recently, in a transitional shelter. As our time here draws to a close, I have been forced to ponder what this situation is truly meant to be a transition to.
Perhaps what is needed is a sit-down between the officials who are implementing policies for individuals experiencing chronic homelessness and those who are actually living it. There are some grave missteps being made and an obvious need for better insight. Who better to assist in the resolution of this crisis than those most impacted by it? I truly desire to sit in the room with people who have meetings on this subject to discuss this very multifaceted issue, both to ask questions and share my experiences and thoughts on how we can work to better combat this issue, which impacts us all.
If my current bout with homelessness has done nothing else, it has inspired me to work to become a part of the solution and solidified my desire to help families like my own to move from homelessness to homeownership. Like most people, I have good days and trying days, and I have no choice but to yield to faith and the hope that, at the end of this portion of my journey, I will be a part of the solution to this seemingly insurmountable circumstance. One day, I will be able to lead praying mothers and fathers toward the very answers to the questions I am seeking support with today.
Etoile McIvor is a mother and sophomore at Delaware Technical Community College. She lives in Dover.
