109 stories of homeless & formerly homeless human beings
in
Between 2000 and late 2003, anthropologists,
anthropology interns, and formerly homeless people collected 109 stories of the
homeless and formerly homeless in
The people that gathered these stories and helped analyze
them were anthropologists Jill Florence Lackey, Mary Roffers,
Kelly Willis, Jamie Merkel, and Kate Lindenmeyer. In addition, formerly homeless UrbAn board member, Carol Smith, collected 25 stories.
Using Spradley’s (1980) emergent data analysis model, the
following taxonomy of findings emerged.
Please follow the links to samples of the actual stories
themselves. The stories reveal the
complexity of homelessness and the number of pathways into homelessness. They also reveal that the initial problems
that led to homelessness are compounded once one is on the streets, making it
extremely difficult (and sometimes nearly impossible) to find a way back. Any pre-homeless factor—lack of
family-supporting job, inability to get good housing, drug and/or alcohol
abuse, family problems, eviction, health problem, underemployment, mental
illness, personal crisis, violence—will almost always move from bad to worse
while homeless. Programs that specifically
address homeless prevention are critical.
. Descriptions of pathways into homelessness (see
stories that follow)
1.
General poverty (n=80)
a.
Unemployment/underemployment (n=40)
b.
Evictions (n=40)
2.
Alcohol and drug abuse (n=58)
3.
Family problems (n=27)
4.
Personal crisis (n=20)
5.
Mental illness (n=13)
a.
Mental illness (n=10)
b.
Lack of motivation (n=8)
Date: Fall, 2001 Site: Outside of
My story is simple, but you won’t like it. I had a job and I made $9 an hour. But one-third of what I had went to the
childcare center and nearly half went to rent.
The rest went to food and regular bills.
I got five kids. I got no other
money. You can’t make it on that. It’s just
plain and simple. I got skills. I went to school and learned to be a
cook. I work good restaurants. I did what I was supposed to do. You just can’t have kids and make it on $9 an
hour. When my daughter got pneumonia I
had insurance, but the co-pay was high and the hospital wanted me to pay out
$300 a month. I couldn’t give them but
$20 or $30 and they took me to court.
Then my boyfriend got married and wanted to get custody of my kids. I had to fight him in court. I paid $200 a month for a lawyer and he didn’t do nothin’. I had to get all the witnesses and do all the
legwork. Then my car needed a new
exhaust. And that was $1,000. Comes a point where something’s gotta give. With the
car—I had to have that to work. The
lawyer wouldn’t stop getting after me for the money I owed him. There’s just no way. I fell behind a little on my rent and got
kicked out. Ain’t
no way you can do it.
You figure the math. They tell
you, you got a skill and you be making $9 an hour. You can pay your bills—JUST pay your
bills. Then anything come
up and you’re flat. You can’t do it.
They say here that they will help
me, and they do. But I can’t just
convince them of the obvious. I’m off
the streets now, but I’ll be back. Ain’t no way you can do it. I could do like these other women and sell a
little pot, but I ain’t raising my kids in that
environment. So I do it the way they
say. Ain’t no way it can work.
Do the math.
I’m trying now to find a job that
will pay me just a little more, but so far no good. The good salad and grill jobs are way out by
Date: Summer,
2000 Site: St. Ben’s Demographics:
African American/m/40-45
I had a good job making $40,000 a year, but my job moved out
to
It was like a Cinderella story in
reverse. I was in programs. I slept in garages, in cars, on one of those
kid’s slides. A lot of homeless people
have to hide or you get a ticket. I’ve
been on the streets 5 months. I’ve been
looking for a job, but every time I get a job it’s one of those temporary jobs
and then they tell you they don’t need you anymore. So I haven’t tried to get a place until I get
a full time job. I’m still at the
I go out and see employers during
the day. I’m a welder. My old company was good. I got my GED, I took
up my own training. I’m not depressed
but I’m anxious to get a job and get back to my old life and get reunited with
my family again, which I’m not able to do right now.
I was born and raised here and the
job was here. My wife and kids are in
It’s lonely to be homeless and
frustrating. But you see love on the
streets—sometimes more love. You learn
how to survive, how to find the next place to stay, how to get the next meal,
how to volunteer in churches. I go to
the library a lot also. It has a good
side—being on the streets. There’s no
responsibility on the streets. It takes
a long time to get it back when you get used to life on the streets. Now I miss my responsibilities. If you are a man you should take care of your
kids. I’m not bitter. I went to jail for a while. I saw God then and it helped. I’m now a born again Christian and now I know
I won’t be on the streets much longer.
Date: Fall, 2001 Site: Library Demographics:
European American/m/63-70
I worked for [major industry] for 35 years. I took an early retirement and early social
security. It didn’t leave me with much
to live on. I didn’t have any insurance
after [age] 63 and I had to have a bypass.
It took all my savings and I still have to pay for the hospital bill
each month. I started drinking heavy
after that. I was lonely too because I
didn’t have any kids and all my brothers had died. With the drinking and the low cash, I lost my
house. I rented for a while and then
ended up in a rooming house.
Now I live like six months
homeless and six months with a room or something. I try and make sure the six months homeless
are in warmer weather. I don’t really
care. I don’t have nothing
to do anyway. So I stay in my own little
secret place, then I go to the meal site for breakfast. Then I come here and read about world
religions. It’s nice to read, but I wish
my glasses was better.
Most of the time I just gotta take them off
and read real close like this. But I
like the reading. Sometimes I get the
big print books. They got these in
mysteries and all kinds of things. The
library folks are nice to you as long as you don’t stink or go to sleep or
bother nobody. I try and keep clean so I
don’t look homeless. But they know I
am.
Then in fall I have enough money
saved to get a little place. Sometimes
the money lasts for the whole year, but mostly it don’t. It’s okay the life I lead. I do a lot of praying and I feel real close
to God. I am learning all about the ways
that people in other lands worship God and it gives me a perspective. The library here is nice—quiet, pretty, and a
spiritual place to be. I feel a kind of
inner peace. I learned that the Hindus
do this—go out and leave their homes and seek the inner light. That is what I feel like. I don’t regret nothing
that happened to me, because it all happens for a reason.
EVICTION/PROBLEMS
WITH ABSENTEE LANDLORDS
Date: Summer,
2003 Site: Grand Ave.
Mall Demographics:
m/African American/32
I was homeless once.
I had a bad apartment and I kept telling the landlord. The toilet didn’t flush and the bathroom sink
was plugged up. I had to keep the
bathroom door closed because it smelled like an outhouse. So I said I wouldn’t pay the rent and he
tells me to leave. I refused until they
called the sheriff. I tried to call one
of them TV stations to complain but I couldn’t get through. My brother took me in. But the wife didn’t want me to stay, so three
days later he dropped me off in front of the Guest House. But they were full. He never even brought my clothes with me, so
I couldn’t change for work. [YOU HAD A
JOB?] I had a job at this [fast food
place] out on Moreland Road. I used to
take the Coach line bus to get there. The first night I’m homeless it’s pretty
warm—it’s October, so I find a park bench and sleep there. So I go to work but I didn’t shave and the
boss asks me why and I say I’m homeless.
So he says I got to do something to look better for the customers. And I try again at the Guest House. Then the Mission. The Mission takes me in, but I don’t get
woken up early enough for my job and then they tell me to wait until I’ve got
my life together and I should come back to work.
I get my check from my boss and
rent this room. Then my brother brings
my clothes and I get cleaned up and the job takes me back. But it took a long time to get my life back
in order. Then I started going to the
meal sites to save money, like now. And
I get free clothes from Casa.
I tell everyone I am living
creatively and they all laugh. I been able to figure out things—where to go to get the good rent
and the free food and clothes. If
you work it out well enough you can live on almost anything. But I won’t ever deal with no
landlord like that one again. And I ain’t spoken to my brother’s wife in two years. What they done to me shouldn’t happen to no
brother. My brother, he felt bad, but
she never said she was sorry. My
employer was good though. [ARE YOU STILL
WORKING FOR THEM?] Uh
huh. Four years
now and two months. I still take
that bus out there every morning.
Date: Winter,
200 Site: Casa
Maria Demographics:
f/African American/35-40
I was working 44 hours a week at the hardware store. Mother of two children, two sons, 14--no 13, and 12. He is so grown I think he is 14, he’s 13. . . My husband has some problems with drugs. I got out of it. I‘m okay. I have to take all the responsibility for myself and my children. We were okay with what was going on. My husband kept his friends and everything to himself. The way we got here though, I moved into an apartment without having to pay a security deposit. Landlord lost the property, instead of rerenting this property, they were boarding it up because he lost it, I guess the city is taking it or whatever, so we were asked to move. This was like the middle of the month and the manager told us that we had another month before we had to move, which wasn’t true. The fourteenth of the month came by and he said you guys got to go to court in two days. I said, “Why do we have to go to court in two days?” “Because we’re evicting you.” “Well, you said I had 30 days to move and it’s not been 30 days.” So we were to go ro court.
We knew we were going to have to
move anyway, so I never went to court.
Two days later, the sheriff person showed up with a 24 hour notice. He said you gotta
be outta here in 24 hours or you what what they were gonna do.
I called [that hotline] and here I
am. Myself and
my two children are here and my husband is wherever he can be. He’s staying with one friend and then the
other, wherever he can, but he’s not here with us. . . [She apparently lost her
job when she became homeless.]
I don’t worry about me that much,
although I worry about my sons. They’re
a very impressionable age and they need a strong person to say this is things
you’re gonna have to do. You know, if you get into this situation and
I’m not here you’re gonna have to know how to talk to
people, you’re gonna have to know how to deal with
people, you’re gonna have to know how to ask for
help. And that’s what I’m teaching
them. And I hope it’s gonna help them. If
it comes to that and I hope it’s gonna help them. In the meantime I’m trying. I’m trying to be strong for them.
Date: Spring,
2000 Site: Hope
House Demographics:
f/African American/21-13
Before I was homeless I was abandoned [by a male], three babies, working a job, struggling, no help, no welfare, no family child support or anything. I managed to work on my own for four years with no help. Jobs went from $7 an hour to $8 an hour, very hard. There were some harsh conditions. Housing which was rat infested, roaches, as far as my wages would allow me. [SHE TAKES PICTURES OUT OF HER POCKET TO SHOW ME. ONE IS OF A CORNER OF A ROOM WITH SOME LIQUID OOZING OUT UNDER THE WALL IN THE CORNER. TWO ARE OF THE GROUND, CONCRETE. EACH SHOWS A RAT TRAP WITH A MOUSE TRAPPED IN IT].
This is the house where there were
like two, three, or four or five rats.
And this is the condition my children were in. From one slum house to the
next. People were being allowed
to rent for outrageous money. Ninety
percent of what we’re making.
Dilapidated house that were rat and roach infested. We had to tolerate that because our rent
[money] would only allow that. . .
You’re working and you have no money.
All your money you were getting was going toward rent, light, gas, phone. And you had 60
cents left over and felt less than a human being.
. . . So I had to make a decision
and either stay there and allow my children to be in a situation where there are rats, roaches, and
mice are running around all day and pay $400 or try to better my
situation. I refused to pay the rent any
longer in that condition. And that’s why
I’m here, hoping to find another place. . ,
PATHWAY TO HOMELESSNESS—ALCOHOL
AND DRUG ABUSE
Date: Summer,
2000 Site:
Demographics:
European American/m/between 30 and 40
Before I was homeless I was, um, an alcoholic and drinking a
lot. The money was coming from
disability. The thing is, I had all the
food I could eat, and I had my rent paid, limited budget. I had all the cigarettes I needed and all the
food I needed for a month, and I was bored.
I used to sit in my room and drink 40-ouncer after 40-ouncer, and that
was the first thing I do in the morning.
I was so depressed, I would just sit there and drink and drink until I
would pass out and forget about life. I
lived in such flophouses, just being in a stale room, and my landlords got
tired of me. Even though they were such
flophouses they wouldn’t sometimes let me live there. The thing is they probably didn’t even want
me there. I went down a long road of
debauchery and drunkenness and I started to bleed internally and tried every
type of care I could find manageable to get treatment for my alcoholism, but
when I got through with the programs I would just start drinking over again,
even though I had a place to stay and stuff--a place to go home to.
There were times I would take the
homeless in, offer them a place to stay.
What a loser I am. I feel very grateful in what I have received
from this country and my benefits for being mentally ill, but I have not only
cheated myself, but cheated but cheated the system because I’ve been an addict
all my life and I am not able to recover.
I was bleeding internally and I
was moved from house to house to house. Some places [were] better than others
with higher standards, and I would be evicted from the worse ones as much as
right up to the best ones. And I would
wind up out on the street. The one time
I was really evicted where I wound up on the street for a long time was when I
began to smoke crack cocaine. I hustled
for it and others shared it with me. I
would sell things my parents bought me and stuff. The reason I was really homeless was I had
such a need for cocaine. I knew that if
I drank anymore…well, I was in intensive care three times from internal
bleeding from alcohol. They told me if I
touch another drink I would die. You
have an artery inside your esophagus ready to burst. You drink one more time you’re dead. So I had been experimenting with crack and
went out on the streets. I was only on
the streets for 6-9 months but it was wintertime. I don’t remember that time very well.
I believe I participated in
helping a friend pay his rent, and I had to wait until he got back from work to
get in. And we were always hustling
money—he and another friend. We were
going out hustling, saying we were homeless and we needed money for food and it
was cold outside. We wanted to get off
the street, we said. The most I ever
panhandled in my life was $100 at one time—one person gave me that. But I could go out and get $50, $60, maybe
$70 a night in the wintertime. We did
this on
[ARE YOU HOMELESS NOW?] No, I’m not.
I was just recently on the verge of being homeless. My counselor had this little conversation
with my landlord. The landlord really
likes my parents a lot so I was given a second chance. Today I come to the Grand Ave. Club and drink
sodas and smoke cigarettes. Now I’m
better off [doesn’t say if he is in recovery or not in recovery].
PATHWAYS
INTO HOMELESSNESS—FAMILY PROBLEMS
Date: Summer,
2000 Site:
I was living at home.
I had my son at home and the father said he wouldn’t marry me because
why should he buy the cow when the milk was free? My mother called me a whore and my dad beat
me. They said they should keep my son
because I wasn’t worth him. I was 25 and
had never been married and the father deserted me. I had a job as a hairdresser. I went to school for that. I wanted to move out but my parents kept
saying that they would take my son away if I did. I didn’t do no drugs
but they kept saying that I did.
Then one day I slept late when my
son was crying and they just kicked me out. They locked my son in the room so I
couldn’t get him with me. I moved into
the Hope House and then here. I could
get in here because I had a job, but I still can’t get my son back. I got a lawyer from them now and I am going
to sue them to get my son back. [HOW OLD
IS YOUR SON?] He’s 2 ½ now. I wasn’t really homeless because I got here
right away and they gave me an apartment.
They know I don’t do drugs and they think my parents are just
unreasonable, so I get a lot of support from them. If I get my son back I will move to another
state because I think they will kidnap my son.
The whole thing is that I didn’t get married and I had a baby so they
think I am a whore and because of that they think I am not worthy to raise my
child. I see a lot of [____] girls here
who had 2, 3 kids and weren’t married and no one tells them they can’t raise
their kids. My dad was raised in
But I will do okay. I always worked and I will do okay. I will get my son and I will go away and I
will tell my son that his father died and no one will ever know. My name is [name] and half of
PATHWAY TO HOMELESSNESS—ALCOHOL AND
DRUG ABUSE
Date: Summer,
2000 Site:
Demographics:
European American/m/between 30 and 40
Before I was homeless I was, um, an alcoholic and drinking a
lot. The money was coming from
disability. The thing is, I had all the
food I could eat, and I had my rent paid, limited budget. I had all the cigarettes I needed and all the
food I needed for a month, and I was bored.
I used to sit in my room and drink 40-ouncer after 40-ouncer, and that
was the first thing I do in the morning.
I was so depressed, I would just sit there and drink and drink until I
would pass out and forget about life. I
lived in such flophouses, just being in a stale room, and my landlords got
tired of me. Even though they were such
flophouses they wouldn’t sometimes let me live there. The thing is they probably didn’t even want
me there. I went down a long road of
debauchery and drunkenness and I started to bleed internally and tried every
type of care I could find manageable to get treatment for my alcoholism, but
when I got through with the programs I would just start drinking over again,
even though I had a place to stay and stuff--a place to go home to.
There were times I would take the
homeless in, offer them a place to stay.
What a loser I am. I feel very grateful in what I have received
from this country and my benefits for being mentally ill, but I have not only
cheated myself, but cheated but cheated the system because I’ve been an addict
all my life and I am not able to recover.
I was bleeding internally and I
was moved from house to house to house. Some places [were] better than others
with higher standards, and I would be evicted from the worse ones as much as
right up to the best ones. And I would
wind up out on the street. The one time
I was really evicted where I wound up on the street for a long time was when I
began to smoke crack cocaine. I hustled
for it and others shared it with me. I
would sell things my parents bought me and stuff. The reason I was really homeless was I had
such a need for cocaine. I knew that if
I drank anymore…well, I was in intensive care three times from internal
bleeding from alcohol. They told me if I
touch another drink I would die. You
have an artery inside your esophagus ready to burst. You drink one more time you’re dead. So I had been experimenting with crack and
went out on the streets. I was only on
the streets for 6-9 months but it was wintertime. I don’t remember that time very well.
I believe I participated in
helping a friend pay his rent, and I had to wait until he got back from work to
get in. And we were always hustling
money—he and another friend. We were
going out hustling, saying we were homeless and we needed money for food and it
was cold outside. We wanted to get off
the street, we said. The most I ever
panhandled in my life was $100 at one time—one person gave me that. But I could go out and get $50, $60, maybe
$70 a night in the wintertime. We did
this on
[ARE YOU HOMELESS NOW?] No, I’m not.
I was just recently on the verge of being homeless. My counselor had this little conversation
with my landlord. The landlord really
likes my parents a lot so I was given a second chance. Today I come to the Grand Ave. Club and drink
sodas and smoke cigarettes. Now I’m
better off [doesn’t say if he is in recovery or not in recovery].
PATHWAYS
INTO HOMELESSNESS—FAMILY PROBLEMS
Date: Summer,
2000 Site:
I was living at home.
I had my son at home and the father said he wouldn’t marry me because
why should he buy the cow when the milk was free? My mother called me a whore and my dad beat
me. They said they should keep my son
because I wasn’t worth him. I was 25 and
had never been married and the father deserted me. I had a job as a hairdresser. I went to school for that. I wanted to move out but my parents kept
saying that they would take my son away if I did. I didn’t do no drugs
but they kept saying that I did.
Then one day I slept late when my
son was crying and they just kicked me out. They locked my son in the room so I
couldn’t get him with me. I moved into
the Hope House and then here. I could
get in here because I had a job, but I still can’t get my son back. I got a lawyer from them now and I am going
to sue them to get my son back. [HOW OLD
IS YOUR SON?] He’s 2 ½ now. I wasn’t really homeless because I got here
right away and they gave me an apartment.
They know I don’t do drugs and they think my parents are just
unreasonable, so I get a lot of support from them. If I get my son back I will move to another
state because I think they will kidnap my son.
The whole thing is that I didn’t get married and I had a baby so they
think I am a whore and because of that they think I am not worthy to raise my
child. I see a lot of [____] girls here
who had 2, 3 kids and weren’t married and no one tells them they can’t raise
their kids. My dad was raised in
But I will do okay. I always worked and I will do okay. I will get my son and I will go away and I
will tell my son that his father died and no one will ever know. My name is [name] and half of
PATHWAYS
INTO HOMELESSNESS—PERSONAL CRISIS
Date: Summer, 2000 Site:
St. James Demographics:
Latino/m/30-40
I had a job and a family and things went okay. Then bad things started happening. My brother-in-law got killed in a gang
fight. My sister who ain’t
married got pregnant. My mother
died. All of it was too much. I started drinkin’
a lot and taking drugs—all kinds of drugs—uppers, downers, heroine, crack,
weed. I lost my job and my wife and kids
moved in with her family. I stayed with
my father for a while but we didn’t get along because he was still grieving for
my mother. Then I went to my brother’s
house but he didn’t want me to be using around the kids, so he kicked me out.
I been staying
mainly in parks because the weather is good.
I do some work for [odd job place].
I can’t do too many drugs because I ain’t got no money. But I pray
and I think that God will get me back to where I was. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be where I
was. I think things happen for a reason
and I will just let God lead me where I am supposed to go. I go to church every day when I’m clean and
sober. Things happen for a reason, you
know.
I applied for a couple of jobs,
but it’s kind of hard to get one, you know, when you are homeless and don’t
look too good, and you got no number they can get you at. But when the right one comes along, I will
get it. I just got to take care of
myself until the right time happens. In
the meantime, I read the bible and go to church and get in touch with my
spiritual side.
. Date:
Summer, 2000 Site:
Public library Demographics:
African American/m/50-60
I can hardly remember when I wasn’t homeless. Sometimes over the years I got a room, but
mostly I was in the room a week or less.
Then I would leave.
[WHY?] I got this mental illness. I can’t stay long. I can’t take the medicine because it makes me
sick. I been
hearing sounds since I was a teenager. Most of the time I get messages that I shouldn’t be somewhere or I
should move on. So I go to a
shelter and some case manager tries to get me on medication, but then I get
sick again and leave and go live in a parked car or an old bus or up there
[points to
But I’m not unhappy. Sometimes the voices are like my friends and
they might be better friends than those out here. I know the messages aren’t real now. I used to think they were real. Sometimes I still do, but when I got older I
come to realize it was just a lot of noise in my head. But I got used to the noise and I looked
forward to the messages. So I come here
every day. I just can’t go to sleep here
or else they ask you to leave. But I
read books, look at travel pictures, listen to my friends [I assume he means in
his head].
I think I will always be
homeless. I don’t know where I would
go. Even if I had a place to stay for
free, I would get a message telling me to leave. Being homeless ain’t
that bad. The only thing is to take a
shower. Some places have showers you can
do sometimes, then that’s good. Cause I
don’t like being smelly. But I don’t do
drugs—well, hardly ever—and hardly ever do drinking. I don’t have the money.
PATHWAYS
INTO HOMELESSNESS—MENTAL ILLNESS
. Date:
Summer, 2000 Site:
Public library Demographics:
African American/m/50-60
I can hardly remember when I wasn’t homeless. Sometimes over the years I got a room, but
mostly I was in the room a week or less.
Then I would leave.
[WHY?] I got this mental illness. I can’t stay long. I can’t take the medicine because it makes me
sick. I been
hearing sounds since I was a teenager. Most of the time I get messages that I shouldn’t be somewhere or I
should move on. So I go to a
shelter and some case manager tries to get me on medication, but then I get
sick again and leave and go live in a parked car or an old bus or up there
[points to
But I’m not unhappy. Sometimes the voices are like my friends and
they might be better friends than those out here. I know the messages aren’t real now. I used to think they were real. Sometimes I still do, but when I got older I
come to realize it was just a lot of noise in my head. But I got used to the noise and I looked
forward to the messages. So I come here
every day. I just can’t go to sleep here
or else they ask you to leave. But I
read books, look at travel pictures, listen to my friends [I assume he means in
his head].
I think I will always be
homeless. I don’t know where I would
go. Even if I had a place to stay for
free, I would get a message telling me to leave. Being homeless ain’t
that bad. The only thing is to take a
shower. Some places have showers you can
do sometimes, then that’s good. Cause I
don’t like being smelly. But I don’t do
drugs—well, hardly ever—and hardly ever do drinking. I don’t have the money.