How will the homeless sleep tonight?

by Lydia Howell

Imagine having your hours cut back, or being “down-sized” out of your job. How long could you last before you got behind on the rent or mortgage? Evicted, with a lower-paying job or temp work, you look for cheaper housing, saving money for first and last month’s rent and deposit. Sleeping in your car, you risk arrest. This is only one of the “crimes” with which Minneapolis police regularly charge homeless people.

“How can police see me at 1 a.m. on a corner with everything CLOSED and arrest me for ‘loitering with intent to sell or purchase’? I know homeless people with 9 or 10 of these violations! In court, the judge dismisses it,” said Micha* at a Homeless Forum to the Hennepin County Commission, January 10. “But, it doesn’t get written off your record! Tell me that’s JUSTICE! Speak to me about compassion.” (*The names of the homeless people have been changed for this story.)

Micha continued, describing security guards at the Greyhound station taking kickbacks from drug dealers who set up shop there, only to have these same guards call the police on homeless people who were seeking shelter from below-zero temperatures. The MPD officers came and dumped Micha out past 394, threatening arrest if they saw him downtown. Micha also faces selective enforcement of anti-loitering laws. “Dumping” homeless people in the suburbs is common. As homelessness has doubled in recent years, shelters resort to a nightly “lottery” for the limited spaces. Inevitably, almost 1,000 end up on the streets. If they’re found in the regular “sweeps,” police make arrests and confiscate all their possessions. Camping in any public place is another homeless “crime,” (though evidently, theft by police is not).

“Your police abuse us, steal what little we have: sleeping bags cut-up, camping gear taken. Then, they say, ‘Why don’t you make something of yourself?’” Lyle is a Native American veteran, who introduced himself as “24/7, 12 months a year, living under bushes, in abandoned buildings, by the river,” since 1992. “Part of the problem is the brutality. The cops take our food, take our IDs and Social Security cards, cut them up and then arrest us for not having proper ID!”

After the two-hour forum and interviews at Catholic Charities, it’s impossible to conclude that the recent police abuses of homeless Indians, widely reported by media, are an aberration. Only the officer’s urination may be rare, with harassment, arrests, beatings and theft of property by police regular facts of homeless life.

“As a shelter advocate, I’ve tried to report these abuses. Civilian Review wouldn’t take the report,” says Margaret Hastings, a housing activist since the mid-1980s. “Politicians will say ‘we have no reports of this happening.’ People who have no voice and are seen as having no civil rights are treated as invisible.”

Those at the Homeless Forum defied stereotypes: pregnant teenagers, laid-off men of every ethnicity, parents with children, a middle-aged German mother, a deaf woman and other disabled people whose landlords stopped taking Section 8 so rents could be raised. One 23-year-old white woman, who was obviously mentally ill, spoke of a childhood of homelessness and abuse; others spoke of struggles with addiction exacerbated by homelessness. Many men are veterans. Women lost childcare, making employment impossible, leading to eviction. More than 40 percent work; virtually all have an eviction (unlawful detainers/UD) on their records, insuring landlords’ rejection. Disasters like fires or illness lead to the streets.

Hastings organized an overnight camp out on the Hennepin County lawn January 30, demanding that the ordinances criminalizing the homeless be repealed. Sweet-faced and graying, she fiercely stated, “These are human rights and civil rights violations,” citing the United Nations International Declaration of Human Rights, which includes “basic shelter for all.”

Building for the January campout, Hastings contacted city councilmembers and Mayor R.T. Rybak asking their positions on the anti-homeless ordinances. Most refused to respond at all. Council President Paul Ostrow said he opposed repeal, but refuses to give his reasons. Mayor Rybak promised an interview, canceled it, but relented just after the January 31 City Council meeting on the budget. He had a victory to share: passage of the Affordable Housing Trust Fund (AHTF), which he has worked for since his election. This centerpiece of Rybak’s plan to address the housing crisis was slashed by half, to $2 million. Its purpose is to leverage financing to refurbish or build multiple-unit housing, that advocates hope will be for low-income families.

Strongest opposition came from 4th Ward Councilmember Barbara Johnson, who asserted the fund undermined the $11 million Neighborhood Revitalization Fund (NRP), prioritizing single-family home ownership. To jeers by observers, Johnson called the AHTF’s mission for the poor and homeless “putting a special interest ahead of everyone else.” NRP regularly subsidies housing priced at $200,000-$500,000 with profits going to private developers.

“I’m not making any promises today [about repealing anti-homeless laws],” Rybak forcefully began, preferring, he said, “to talk about long-term, permanent solutions to homelessness. If we repeal these laws, are we saying, ‘It’s fine for people to live in the streets’? We don’t want to say that.”

This reporter reminded the Mayor that the numbers of homeless are rising, no new shelters have opened, leaving people on the streets. “Is it right to jail them for sleeping in their car or camping out?” I asked. Obvious distress passed over Ryback’s face.

“I’m just learning about these laws,” his voice softened, almost to a whisper. He listened to part of the Homeless Forum two weeks earlier. “Part of the problem is the way some police treat homeless people,” says Rybak.

His hard-won small victory on the housing fund is dampened by reality. The last mayor created the homelessness crisis that Rybak inherited. The crisis now borders on catastrophe with the impending budget cuts.

“What you need to be concerned about is the federal cuts to public housing,” he said. Cities regularly blame state and federal governments’ refusal to adequately fund low-income housing, yet don’t acknowledge how local policies contribute; relentless demolitions of inexpensive units, replaced with housing that HousingMinnesota says only people making $54,000 or more can afford.

“It’s absurd that people without a home are subject to arrest,” said 6th Ward Councilmember Dean Zimmerman at the camp out. “Wealthy people don’t want to see people sleeping in cars or pitched tents in plain view.” Zimmerman promised to raise repeal of the laws at City Hall, but he emphasized that a more “winnable” strategy would be reopening park buildings during winter. With the season’s lower crime-rate, police could provide security. But would that feel safe to people regularly victimized by law enforcement?

“While homeless, I’ve been beaten up four times—three times by police. I’ve been robbed three times—all by police. Why should I trust you?” Talking at the forum, Thomas’ voice quavered. I recognized the thin, thirty something man with a grayish pallor and hounded demeanor. He was at the rally after the MPD murdered Chris Burns (who St. Stephen’s employees told me had stayed at their shelter).

A twentysomething interracial couple I interview say police harassment has haunted their relationship, escalated during four years of homelessness.

In shelters and at the forum, morethan half are people of color, living indictments of pernicious racial discrimination in housing and racial profiling by police. “Of course, racism is part of the problem,” says Minneapolis NAACP president Rev. Al Gallman at the Housing on the Hill day at the State Capitol February 11. He echoed shelter advocates and legislators, that “Housing for ALL incomes must be built—not just for the well-off. Our time reminds me of Dickens’ ‘best of times, worst of times.’ For those WITH opportunity it’s better than ever. For those withOUT opportunity, it is very bad.” I ask about the Northside Heritage Park development emerging out of the 900 destroyed low-income units. He’s skeptical that even the 120 “affordable” units promised will materialize.

Gov. Tim Pawlenty announced his “unallotments,” cutting $350,000 from emergency shelters, already desperately under-funded.

“When people are turned away because the shelters are full, I say, send them to the Governors’ Mansion! He’s got a nice residence,” said Hennepin County Commissioner Gail Dorfman, who organized the Homeless Forum. Choruses of “send them to the Mansion!” thunder off the Rotunda. “When shelters close, send them to the Mansion! With less treatment programs, send then to the Mansion! When youth are on the streets, send them to the Mansion!”

I remember Andrew’s testimony: biracial, 17, homeless for a year since his North Oaks parents found out he was gay, facing homophobia from county services from which he sought help.

“Since ending up on the streets, I know what racism and homophobia are. It’s not fair that if you end up homeless, all basic human rights are stripped away! Being turned away for help because of my sexual orientation and my age. Child Protection can’t do anything because my parents won’t return their phone calls,” his melodious voice edges into anger. “It’s not fair to work my butt off at a job, sleep outside, graduate high school and still no one will rent to me because of my age!”

Advocates estimate that half the homeless youth are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender, thrown to the streets by their families. For the almost 700 homeless youth, there are 65 shelter slots. They are jailed as delinquent or, when they’re not white, assumed to be gang members. Bobby, a homeless 18-year-old, homeless almost two years, ruefully says, “I get profiled for WWB—Walking While Black.” He’s already been charged with “loitering with intent” twice. Young women just say, “It’s scary on the street” and sit back down. Youth say police treat them like criminals when they’ve asked for help or tried to report crimes committed against them.

“Ride the bus all night, where some try to stay warm and safe. On the second night, you’ll recognize faces,” Charlie Phenix has a more than passing resemblance to Willie Nelson. He describes homeless people he knows at St. Paul’s Dorothy Day Center to the Capitol crowd: people up at 4:00 for work. “Think about going to work or applying for a job, carrying all your possessions. Homeless people have to be somewhere. Shelters are a lot more expensive than creating the housing we need. It’s parallel to folks using the ER for their healthcare.” He has the crowd following his reedy, rousing voice, joining in when he shouts, “Housing Minnesota!” fist raised in the air.

I’ve known Charlie over a decade, a West Banker and fellow exile-Texan. His speech makes me remember sharing pitchers at Palmer’s Bar and his stories “hell-raisin’ against the Vietnam War.” In recent years, he’s one more friend whose housing met the bulldozer, who lost a job, ended a romance, or slipped too far into the bottle, landing on the streets. It could have been any or all of those things that made him homeless. I respected his dignity enough not to ask. Now, he stays at Dorothy Day, his mischievous blue eyes sharp with sobriety.

In economic boom years, politicians claimed, “No money available” to solve homelessness. Now, budget deficits could be their fig leaf for continued inaction. Looking around South Minneapolis at what’s torn down and what’s built at public expense, it’s undeniable that elected officials are making the problem worse. Last year, Councilmember Zimmermann promised to push for a moratorium on demolitions. Now, he says “economic dislocation is the problem” and 5 percent vacancy rates mean many apartments. Soaring rents add to homelessness. When people pay more than 30 percent of less-than-$20,000 incomes, any crisis can make eviction inevitable.

“Some landlords won’t ever rent out units that they can just keep collecting application fees on,” says Donna, homeless with two kids.” It adds up, paying $50 or more for each place you look at.”

Margaret Hastings continues to challenge ordinances criminalizing the homeless, planning another camp out on the Hennepin County Government Center lawn on Sat., March 15, 3 p.m. To get involved call 612-822-5745 or m1r3201@aol.com.
“It’s about justice. If we’re not going to guarantee people any income or basic shelter, we can’t then, arrest them once they’re forced to live on the streets,” Hastings said. “That’s civil rights based on economic status.”

“Take off your suit and tie. Come out of your suburb down to these streets,” says Micha. “If they don’t know who you are, they’ll treat you just like they treat us—and you’re not going to like it.”