The words no parent should ever have to say: “We have to sleep in our car tonight.”
Every day, our team meets families at the most fragile points in their lives. Just this week, one of our clients finally gained access to the state emergency shelter system. Since she is 6 months pregnant, we celebrated that she had a safe roof over her head for the remainder of her pregnancy, but the relief was short-lived. Under the state’s new rules, her stay will last only six months. At that point, she’ll face an impossible choice: leave when told and hope she can eventually re-apply after months of waiting, or stay put and risk being forced out and barred from shelter altogether. By then, she will have a newborn in her arms.
For almost all of the families in shelter, the state points to a program called HomeBASE as the solution, but we see every day how limited and flawed it truly is. Families are given $30,000 to use over two years toward market-rate apartments. Landlords, who are being offered financial incentives to participate, sign families into leases with high rents and steep move-in costs. Within months, the HomeBASE money is gone. Families can’t keep up, evictions follow, and they end up homeless again. The cruel twist? If you’re evicted from your apartment for non-payment after your HomeBASE runs out, that is not a qualifying reason for shelter. When we asked our colleagues in legal aid if anyone was tracking—or even publicizing—how many families actually lose housing after using HomeBASE, the answer was simple: no. There is no accountability for what happens when the subsidy runs out. Success is measured only by “entries” into the HomeBASE Program, not by whether families can survive once they’ve obtained an apartment. But our staff knows the truth: that a large share of the families we serve are former HomeBASE participants who are now homeless again. The system is failing.
Currently, we’re also walking alongside a mother paying out of pocket for a hotel while raising a child with special needs. She can’t risk the streets, so she manages to put together money each night for a room. She applied for RAFT, the state’s rental assistance program, to help her secure funds for move-in costs but was denied. Why? Because if you can pay for a hotel, the state says, you must not need help. The logic is maddening: if you’re paying for a hotel, you can’t possibly save for move-in costs (often ranging from $8,000 to $10,000 upfront). But if you stop paying for a hotel in order to save, you’re suddenly sleeping in your car—and only then do you “qualify.”
This is the impossible trap families are caught in. The state is not working to prevent trauma. Instead, it often requires families to go through the trauma of sleeping outside, in cars, or in unsafe spaces, before any help is available. If you manage to scrape together a little too much income by working full-time at minimum wage, you’re punished. If you choose to keep your child safe for a night, you’re punished. There is no winning.
Imagine, for just a moment, that in four hours you will have to look into your child’s eyes and explain that tonight you’ll be sleeping in your car. Imagine their questions. Imagine their fear. Tell me this moment won’t echo in their lives forever.
This is what families are facing every day. And this is why we refuse to look away.
On Sunday, October 18th at Lynch Park, we will gather for our Walk to End Homelessness. Join us. Help us convince our neighbors that homelessness should never exist.
