See the humanity
Abbott’s solution to homelessness should start with listening to those actually experiencing it.
“I’m a Texan. Not trash.”
With those five words, Austin resident Sherry Hughes, one of more than 1,100 unsheltered homeless in Austin suddenly in Gov. Greg Abbott’s crosshairs, stated plainly the challenge confronting all of us in Texas who have a home: the necessity of truly seeing the human beings in our midst who don’t.
It’s too easy to clearly see homelessness — a social problem with many causes — but still miss the people behind the label who start every day asking: Where am I going to sleep tonight? For some, it’s where will my children sleep? Or where can I keep my pet warm?
The homeless not just in Austin but in every city in Texas asked those questions this morning, and they’ll ask them tomorrow. Chronicle reporter Sarah Smith’s powerful story on Sunday’s front page illustrated the predicament of many of Austin’s homeless residents as the governor squares off against city officials.
When Austin relaxed its ban on camping, the number of homeless men and women sleeping in tents under overpasses grew noticeably. The problem of homelessness there was suddenly harder to ignore, and that made many people uncomfortable.
Taking his cue from President Donald Trump’s demand that California reduce the number of homeless on its streets, Abbott ordered state employees to clean up homeless encampments near state highways or interstates.
On one hand, state assistance in reducing the number of homeless people in Austin or any Texas city should be welcomed. Behind the statistics are thousands of individuals who can be helped by hot meals and warm, dry shelter. Providing that help will do more than clean up cities’ images; it will mean healthier, stronger communities, students with more stability — and thus better chances for success — and families more likely to stay together.
The question Abbott doesn’t seem to have asked, however, is what kind of help is needed. Simply rousting men and women from their encampments won’t solve homelessness. It merely targets the most visible among the homeless population and makes their lives more difficult.
If he really wants to be helpful, Abbott should start by changing his strategy. Instead of waging war on people who are homeless, he could show more empathy for them. Instead of focusing on how homelessness affects the rest of Austin, he could show more concern for homeless Texans.
Perhaps that empathy would lead him to support the many local efforts by the city as well as religious and secular nonprofits that are laboring mightily to improve the lives of people who are homeless — in some cases, working to make their time on the streets as brief as possible.
Such work is being done in Austin, Houston and other Texas cities. The governor should lift those programs up, using his considerable bully pulpit to encourage donors and volunteers to help.
Those efforts could use partners at the state level, whether it’s by providing more money, manpower or just moral support.
Some of that partnership may happen under Abbott’s plan to temporarily move the homeless to an encampment on a 5-acre plot of state-owned land across from the Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. The encampment will have portable restrooms, handwashing stations and meals provided by local charities. In addition, the Austin Chamber of Commerce announced a coalition of business leaders, nonprofits and faith-based organizations will try to raise $14 million to construct a 300-bed shelter in Austin.
Still, Abbott must stop tackling homelessness as if it’s a public relations problem for Austin or somehow a political liability for the city’s more liberal policies.
If the governor wants to help Austin, he should start by listening to homeless Texans such as Hughes whose experiences with homelessness have been raw and direct. Listening to them, Abbott would learn that homelessness, first and foremost, is a crisis for the people experiencing it. That’s where the governor’s sympathy should start.