We're ending homelessness, but what are we starting?

Finding everyone's place in the future we're fighting for

I’ve been trying for three weeks to write about Trump.

After my last post, which I subtitled “2025 Homelessness State of the Union Part 1”, I promised to engage the Trump presidency as well as the wildfires in California and project how we ought to orient ourselves in this tumultuous year to best be in solidarity with our unhoused neighbors.

I’m still going to do that, but I need to come at it from a different angle.

Every time I’ve tried to start writing my intended piece, a couple things keep stopping me: (1) pure existential dread that we’re even in this current moment, and perhaps more saliently, (2) the chaotic way things keep changing and rolling out. By the time I finish outlining one version, there’s a new thing to address, and by the time I address that it’s already been reversed, except just kidding no it wasn’t!

And so another approach is needed. Perhaps when (if?) things level out and we get a sense of the “new normal”, I will expend some time to reflect on best approaches for us. But the good news is, we don’t have to wait for any of that to get to work.

Because ending homelessness isn’t fundamentally oppositional work. I have to remind myself of this regularly, because it’s so baked into our language—we’re confronting, fighting, adovcating, etc. Even “ending homelessness”, a phrase I use constantly, draws perhaps too much attention to the problem and not the solution.

When we’re not totally clear on what we’re up against, it’s the perfect time to focus instead on what we’re building toward.

This year, I want to spend more time and energy working with allies than confronting enemies.

I want to focus less on dissecting lies and more time telling the truth.

I want to think more about where we’re trying to get than how far away we are.

These aren’t mutually exclusive; working with allies does confront enemies, but puts you in community with those who can support and check you; telling the truth does combat lies, but disrupts their soundbites without repeating them; remembering where we’re trying to get does involve a stark view of the present, but without getting lost in despair.

This isn’t a shift in priority or value, but a reorientation of strategy. And in this reframing, we can all better find our place in the future we’re dreaming up.

I believe that we can (and could) end homelessness in this country. But under the present circumstances, we are further from doing so. There’s no better time, then, to invest our energy in remembering what type of world we’re building, and becoming the people we would need to be for that type of world to flourish.

Folks who work or volunteer in this field know the sorts of tasks and roles we need to occupy to address homelessness (even as we see all the gaps.) But so many folks, including I suspect many who are reading this, may struggle to know what part they play.

But reframing—focusing not on what we’re ending but what we’re beginning—helps us know where to begin.

We are working toward where everyone can be home. This means that everyone has access to housing that is safe, affordable, and desirable; that within a close distance of where people live we have access to all they need for education, food, clothing, and community; that we would have neighbors who care for one another; that we would all not only live but belong.

There are those of us whose job it is to struggle against systems and powers to make even a semblance of this possible for the most vulnerable. But all of us have a role to play in making our communities like this for whoever currently lives there. Are we the types of neighbors who are attentive to the needs next door? Do we even know our neighbors’ names? Are our homes hospitable? Are our schools and grocery stores accessible? Are there public spaces for gathering that don’t require spending money? These basic things, over which the average person has a significant amount of power, are all part of the world we’re trying to build. As folks like me and my colleagues are fighting to bring unhoused people into housing, we need loving communities to surround them once they are safely indoors. And that begins inside the inner circles, and hearts, of every one of us.

There will be no shortage of things to fight against, oppose, resist, and mourn in the coming years. You will read about them frequently here. But for now, let’s take stock in remembering the world we’re charting for, and orient our inner compasses toward it—lest we get lost in these tumultuous seas.

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