Build brotherhood in wake of Harvey
It was August 2017. Everyone in the office at Healthcare for the Homeless–Houston, where I have worked for the last 11 years, was huddled around talking about the storm projections. There was chatter about sandbags and water supplies and backup batteries. There were phone calls with our partner agencies about street outreach and getting clients into expanded-capacity shelters. There was concern but not panic. We knew it would be bad. But we didn’t know how bad.
As I walked through the stagnant heat to my car under the Pierce Elevated, I passed a familiar face, an African-American man in his mid-50s who had been homeless for the better part of 20 years. I had to ask: “The storm is coming, are you sure you’re not going to head to shelter?” He shook his head. He did not want to leave his bicycle, loaded with everything that gave him a semblance of home, and he was certain they would not let him take it into the shelter.
The whole thing felt like a dream. As the news stations flashed images of the flooded city and of small aluminum boats motoring slowly down what just days before had been roadways, I thought about my friend under the bridge and of how many people now looked just like him — homeless and left with only what they could carry.
Following Harvey and for the first time since 2011, Houston saw an increase in the number of people experiencing homelessness. According to the annual homeless point-in-time count conducted by the Coalition for the Homeless, there are 18 percent more unsheltered Houstonians in 2018 than in the previous year , most of whom cited the storm as the reason for their homelessness. This has long-term implications.
Houston is on a long road to rebuilding — not only in terms of infrastructure, but also in terms of brotherhood. What we must talk about now, underscoring all of the conversations about affordable housing and access to mental health care, is that racial inequity is a profound factor contributing to homelessness.
A needs assessment conducted by Healthcare for the Homeless–Houston and the University of Texas School of Public Health in July 2017 — before Hurricane Harvey and more than a decade after the most recent major natural disaster to impact the Gulf Coast —found that 7 percent of Houston respondents cited a natural disaster as the catalyst to their homelessness. And in 2008, nearly three years following Hurricane Katrina, the National Institute of Mental Health reported that many who faced poverty, mental illness and/or addiction prior to the storm remained homeless. These individuals had constructed shanty-like encampments throughout New Orleans because they could not regain housing. Those who remain homeless are mostly AfricanAmerican.
In Harris County, 19.7 percent of the population is African-American, yet they represent 56.5 percent of those experiencing homelessness. This is not an anomaly. In Washington, D.C., 88.4 percent of those who are homeless are black. In Chicago, 81 percent of the sheltered homeless population and 76 percent of the unsheltered population are black. In New York City, 58 percent of individuals experiencing homelessness are AfricanAmerican, and across the United States, 12.5 percent of our nation is African American. Of the total population of homeless individuals in the United States, 47.1 percent are African-American. We, as a people, are failing to move the needle on race disparity, and subsequently, its impact on homelessness.
Preventing short-term homelessness post-disaster from becoming long-term for those who are displaced in Houston requires addressing racial inequity. In the last few years, our city has made significant strides in coordinated homeless services and the expansion of permanent supportive housing, which has systemically shifted our community’s response to homelessness. But underscoring conversations about housing units, about coordinated care and access to mental health – is race.
As we look down our continued road to recovery, the momentum that brought us together during Harvey, as a city and as a people, can begin to move the needle on homelessness if we don’t ignore a significant contribution to the problem. The brotherhood we felt in August 2017, just one year ago, is the brotherhood we need. The camaraderie we felt then, to leave no person behind, is the camaraderie we need now. We need to link arms — all races, creeds, religions and affiliations — and keep walking out of the water. That is what it will take to truly address homelessness.