Put a face on homelessness

Ruth Griffiths

If you are reading this column in your own copy of the Daily Herald, it is quite likely that your housing situation is secure. But if your circumstances had been only slightly different, you might have been homeless.

We talk about “the unhoused” as if they were a group of faceless  people, but the truth is, every person has a different story; every person has walked a different path that might have created a situation in which they found themselves without stable housing.

I recently interviewed a woman who had a life much like mine. She married, had children, had work she enjoyed. And then her life hit an iceberg! Within the space of two years, her marriage ended, she lost her job and she began treatment for cancer. The Canadian safety net didn’t provide her with enough income for rent, food and other necessities. Without the support of friends she would have been homeless. Without secure housing, her health would have been even further compromised.

How many of us are one step away from homelessness?

What does a homeless person look like? That person is likely to be a young Indigenous man (but almost as likely to be female). ln March 2022 Riverbank Development Corporation counted people in Prince Albert who did not have stable housing on that snowy day. Teams of volunteers interviewed at least 120 people who were experiencing homelessness. They talked to people on the streets, in detox, in shelters and other temporary housing. That survey put this face on homelessness:

  • 99% identified as Indigenous
  • 53% identified as male, 41% female, 5% two-spirited
  • 97% were ages 16 to 49
  • 26.5% we’re under age 18 (20 children under t16 were recorded homeless with a parent)
  • 42% reported receiving provincial benefits
  • 45% reported no income
  • 57 people were sleeping unhoused, double the previous year
  • 63 slept sheltered, including “couch surfers” … the hidden homeless who live temporarily with family and friends, often paying no rent.

People are far more than statistics. Each person who was counted has a unique story. Each of them was someone’s son or daughter, some are mothers and fathers. All of them are members of our community worthy of our concern.

When I hear people say “someone should do something about all of these homeless people on the streets,” I wonder who that someone might be. Perhaps that someone is you.

Let me share my story. While getting into my car outside the Daily Herald office I was approached by a young man who smelled strongly of mouthwash. He wanted cash, but something clicked and all of sudden I saw him as someone’s son.  He was sick and needed food in his stomach to counteract the nasty liquid he had been drinking. I took him to a nearby cafe, ordered a modest meal and sat with him until the food arrived. I paid for the meal and left, because I was needed at home to look after my own teenage children. For a brief moment, he WAS my son. He WAS a person.

I haven’t always been that open to seeing people on the streets in that way. I think it is easier for me to close my eyes and look away than it is to see the grim realities. It hurts to care about people in these situations. But closing my eyes doesn’t make the situation go away.

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