Reprinted from the Out of Sight, Out of Mind: The unseen reality of hidden homelessness issue of Visions Journal, 2024, 20 (2), pp. 5-7
Being homeless takes a lot of work, and it's exhausting.
Lining up daily for a shelter bed, trying to stay awake so no one steals your belongings, walking across town for a drop-in program only to find it closed because you arrived on the wrong day, searching for a medical clinic or pharmacy that will provide basic wound care or fill your prescription—these are just a few of the daily challenges faced by those experiencing homelessness. Many find themselves scraping together or begging for a few dollars, desperately seeking some control over their lives and the choices they can make.
To avoid living on the street, in the park or at a shelter, some are able to remain hidden by staying in a vehicle or RV, in an abandoned garage or an overcrowded apartment. Across BC there has been a silent epidemic of hidden homelessness. People across our province are being pushed into makeshift shelters deep in the woods, staying in dilapidated vans at highway rest stops or parking lots and trading sex for a night on the couch. People are struggling with mental health challenges, acquired brain injuries, substance abuse and grief.
Unfortunately, instead of responding with compassion and providing people with real options, we are seeing recriminalization and forced treatment; policies that have failed over and over again, and only did more harm; policies that will push people further into hiding and into even less safe places.
People often judge unhoused people for their choices or look away as if you aren’t there. The common perception, reinforced by the media and politicians, is that you’re lazy and dangerous. This narrative ignores the reality of your suffering, the abuse you have endured from individuals and society at large and the gaping holes in our so-called “safety net” that have allowed you to fall through and remain trapped.
When the system feels designed to keep you entrenched in homelessness, it becomes difficult to see a way out. The process of securing housing is fraught with obstacles, including endless cycles of applications, assessments and waitlists. Support services are often divided, forcing those with the least resources to navigate a complex and dehumanizing bureaucracy. This is made worse by structural discrimination and inequity.
If you are fortunate enough to secure lasting housing and leave behind homelessness, you may quickly discover that some supportive housing can segregate and isolate individuals. Paternalistic curfews, invasive “wellness” checks and restrictive guest policies create an oppressive environment that confines you. The alternative options—predatory single room occupancies (SROs), a return to the streets, encampments or another hiding place—offer little hope for a better future.
The underlying causes
The demographics of those experiencing homelessness have shifted in recent years. Social assistance hasn’t kept pace with the rising cost of living and soaring rents. The lingering effects of COVID-19 have disproportionately impacted the most vulnerable populations. Many who were precariously housed faced evictions and temporary benefits weren’t enough to secure lasting stability. There has been an alarming increase in the number of women and marginalized genders, Indigenous and racialized youth, and seniors facing first-time homelessness or resorting to unsafe housing.
In particular, women, gender diverse peoples and youth will suffer intimate partner and family violence because they see nowhere to escape to. They stay in abusive households because they’re not only worried about the stigma and violence faced by all people experiencing homelessness, but also fear specific threats of exploitation and sex trafficking.
The toxic drug supply, driven by trauma, anxiety, pain management and grief, has devastated an entire generation. Grappling with intergenerational trauma from residential schools, the 60s Scoop, and Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Girls and Two-Spirit people (MMIWG2S), Indigenous communities face an uphill battle for healing, exacerbated by the tragic loss of many parents to the ongoing drug crisis.
For those struggling with substance use, the potency of available drugs makes it harder to seek help or function effectively. Long waitlists for recovery and detox spaces and a lack of data on their effectiveness further complicate the situation. After recovery, the absence of second-stage housing (short-term units with specific housing stability supports aimed at helping people move into long-term housing) forces many to return to precarious living situations.
Looking for a different way forward
The need for support far exceeds the available resources, but solutions are within reach. Increasingly, outreach and peer workers are focusing on building rapport with those experiencing visible and hidden homelessness. They move at the speed of trust and connecting through culture to foster meaningful relationships. To create lasting change, we must prioritize:
- prevention programs to support those who are living precariously to be rapidly rehoused in appropriate housing
- easier, transparent and consistent pathways to housing
- faster access to treatment and recovery
- more safe housing options
By addressing these critical areas, we can begin to dismantle barriers that perpetuate homelessness and work towards a more equitable society for all.
The changing face of homelessness reveals a complex tapestry of challenges that demands urgent attention and compassionate action. As we confront the systemic failures that have led to the current crisis, it is essential to recognize the humanity of those affected and to dismantle the stigmas that perpetuate their suffering.
By advocating for comprehensive solutions that prioritize accessible housing, effective recovery support and a holistic and culturally appropriate approach to mental health and addiction, we can foster a society that not only addresses the immediate needs of unhoused and precariously housed people, but also empowers them to reclaim their dignity and agency. It is our collective responsibility to ensure that everyone has a place to call home. In doing so, we can build a more just and inclusive future for all members of our community.
About the author
Rachel is a proud Indigenous woman/PWLLE from the We Wai Kai Nation with over 14 years’ experience in non-profit housing and harm reduction work on the DTES/lower mainland. As co-owner of Parker-Plamondon-Assu Consulting, she is dedicated to implementing innovative programs that support vulnerable communities and enhance cultural safety while reducing risks of the toxic drug poisoning crisis
Kevin is a biracial Black man from Vancouver with decades of lived experience, including with homelessness and substance use. With 12 years in harm reduction and non-profit housing, he co-owns Parker-Plamondon-Assu Consulting, where he implements innovative programs through a diversity, equity and inclusion and anti-racism lens
Stephen is Executive Director of the Homeless Services Association of BC