How (Not) to Write about Homelessness

Rule #1: Who is the hero of the story?

I’m starting a new series! As you can imagine, I have lots of strong feelings about how to write about homelessness. I’m constantly reading great and not-so-great articles, books, and op-eds on the topic. I know too that a lot of my readers work in this field as professionals, volunteers, and other capacities where you find yourself writing or wanting to write thoughtfully about this issue. I think it’s so so important to get this right—with such a dearth of content and the stakes so high, it’s crucial to keep our language, tone, and perspective on point.

This series is one that I’ll return to from time to time, rather than in consecutive weeks. I’m constantly learning from trial-and-error and others more experienced on how to do this better, so as I learn and incorporate these lessons, I will bring them to you. Many of these lessons I learned by getting it wrong; I am recording these partially as a way to remind myself of them.

I’m also not word-policing; inherent in each of these is the way that writing either confronts biases and myths or perpetuates them. You’ll notice in these lessons that things we take for granted like word-choice, subject vs object, direct vs indirect nouns, all of which interact with dominant false narratives in homelessness.

How we write about homelessness matters—and more than ever we need writers getting it right. So without further ado, here is the first rule I try to keep:

Rule #1: Unhoused people are the heroes of their own stories… not you!

This is a rule I first learned related to preaching. Have you ever listened to a sermon and halfway through a preacher’s story you realize, This story is about how great they are. It’s not always because of what the story is about, but it’s in the way they tell it.

When it comes to working with people experiencing homelessness, there is always a power dynamic. The Nonprofit or “helper” always has power that the unhoused person or “helpee” does not have. How that power is used—to coerce, to shame, to direct—even in the interest of “helping”, is what differentiates good services from harmful ones. Is power leveraged, or is it shared?

Saviorism—when power is flaunted for the self-congratulation of the helper—is rampant enough in our field that we need to actively write against it. If we believe that people experiencing homelessness are full humans with agency and hopes and potential and resiliency, we should write like it. Yet, very often in trying to highlight the work of a nonprofit or individual, we make ourselves the hero of the story.

The fact is, we can do both. We can tell stories in a way that highlights how crucial the work of nonprofits and supports are, without devaluing the effort, intention, and agency of the people who are fighting for their own lives. And much of it comes down to basic sentence structure.

Here are four ways to essentially say the same thing, but that go from worse to better.

1. [Nonprofit] got Steve all his documentation and housing.

2. [Nonprofit] helped Steve get his documentation and housing.

3. [Nonprofit] came alongside Steve to get his documentation and housing.

4. Steve secured all his documentation and housing with the support of [nonprofit].

In literary terms, Steve should be the Direct Noun, rather than the Indirect one, of the sentence. He ought to be the Subject, not the Object of the action. Yes, we literally objectify people with how we write!

Word choice matters too. The difference between (1) and (2) is only changing “got” to “helped Steve get”, but it at least implies that Steve was a participant in the effort. Changing “helped Steve get” to “came alongside Steve to get” in (3) moves even more of the action to Steve. But (4) is best, because it moves Steve into the Subject/Direct Noun position, and also moves him (instead of the Nonprofit) to the front of the sentence.

In these subtle ways, we communicate values. Who is this story about? Who has agency and power? Who comes first?

Just because a nonprofit gets this wrong doesn’t mean their values are off. (Or, just because they write well doesn’t mean they don’t objectify people!) But the way we write doesn’t just reflect values, it instills them. We fall into patterns of writing and talking this way because that’s how it’s always written and talked about. We’re either working against that, or we’re contributing to the problem.

Examples:

For both a negative and a positive example, I’ll pick on Rescue Missions. If you don’t already know, my upcoming book will critique the Rescue Mission model, in part because of their entrenched saviorism. That said, a few Rescue Missions have done the hard work to decenter themselves and adopt a more person-centered approach. Very often it shows through in their language.

For a negative example, we’ll turn to Union Rescue Mission in Los Angeles, CA:

Last year alone, the Mission rescued 450 families, along with 900 children, from the streets.

“I thank God that we’ve been able to rescue so many precious families and help them get back on their feet,” says Andy Bales, President and CEO of Union Rescue Mission.

Let’s Save Kids from Skid Row

For a positive, let’s look at City Rescue Mission in Oklahoma City, OK. These words were also from their CEO, Erin Goodin:

Almost 200 of the individuals in our care right now are children. Their families have dealt with all manner of hardship — from job loss to eviction, mental health challenges and domestic abuse.

But I don’t despair for those 200 children. Instead, I pray for their resiliency. And I know that they’re exactly where God needs them to be in this moment. Through your kindness and generosity, they’re in a safe, peaceful environment. They’ve got a stable foundation from which their parents can rebuild.

This month, many of the kids at the Mission will be going back to school. And caring friends like you will equip them with the supplies they need to succeed in the classroom.

Notice that both Missions are writing about the same tragic situation: the increase in children experiencing homelessness, and its traumas. In the first, we see Andy Bales who believes and writes like the Rescue Mission’s job is to swoop in and be the hero. “The mission rescued…”, “we’ve been able to rescue…”, “help them get back on their feet”, “Let’s save kids.”

Compare that to Erin Goodin, who highlights “they’re in a safe, peaceful environment,” “They’ve got a stable foundation from which…”, “you will equip them”. First, per above, the unhoused children are nearly always the subjects and not the objects of Erin’s sentences. In the one sentence where the children are the object, the action verb is “equip”, a word that connotes empowerment—it’s giving the children what they need to then go and be successful themselves. The action happening to them is still one of partnership and reciprocity.

And in this framing, the Mission still sounds good! They are the ones providing the stable foundation, the peaceful environment, and YOU the potential donor have a key role to play! But you’re not rescuing or saving anyone… because you’re not the hero.

Our writing should reflect our values, and should communicate to everyone who reads our work that people who experience homelessness are the main character of their stories. We do this not just to show our work, but to change the narrative about homelessness in small but meaningful ways.

When we write about homelessness, we are not just writing our own stories. We are rewriting the dominant Story piece by piece. Every time you write, ask yourself: What story am I telling, and how might it confront or confirm the dominant Story about homelessness?

If you have thoughts, ideas, or questions about How (Not) to Write About Homelessness for future entries, please comment below!

Read part 2!

How (Not) to Write About Homelessness 2

---

These posts will always be free.

But the rest of my work—traveling to speak and lead workshops, creating content, advocacy and direct aid—is enabled and expanded by your support. Consider becoming a Paid subscriber to enhance my reach.