One-size-fits-all approach won’t solve youths’ plight
Homelessness in America can feel like an overwhelming problem. So it’s understandable that politicians propose broad policies that treat all types of homelessness the same.
But as someone who was homeless until quite recently, I believe we need incremental policy initiatives, targeting specific groups. And we should start with homeless young people, who have immense potential to change their lives with assistance.
I was 18 and living with my parents in Santa Monica in 2008 when the economic downturn came. My dad, a salesman in the commodities industry and the sole breadwinner, could no longer maintain his level of income. My mother, who has Huntington’s disease, couldn’t take care of herself. We were evicted, and my mother went into a nursing home. Dad and I stayed in a Culver City (Los Angeles County) motel for about a month. Then we moved into his car, a compact Geo Metro. That began a six-year journey for me. I learned about the Ocean Park Community Center shelters and wanted to access their services, but my dad, too proud to accept a handout, refused. So we split up; I moved into a shelter, he stayed in the car.
I desperately wanted to get work skills. I started with telemarketing, trying to emulate my father, but couldn’t make any real money at it. Working retail at Sears was a dead end. Over time, I couldn’t make enough money to meet the savings goals that the shelter set for me. I left their program.
I relocated to downtown Los Angeles, looking for work everywhere and moving between shelters. When my situation grew bad, I slept on the streets. The transportation system often defeated me; I’d miss a bus back from a job and miss the inflexible curfew at one shelter and spend the night visiting diners and other 24-hour places.
One day in 2014, desperate for a place, I called L.A. County’s 211 phone line for housing services and learned about Jovenes, a program serving homeless young men, ages 18 to 24. I was 24, nearly too old. But I got in. It made a difference.
Jovenes’ focus on a specific subset of the homeless population made its services much more effective. It was designed with the flexibility that young people need. If you were running late because of an interview or a class, you could call your case manager and explain the situation. And because my fellow Jovenes clients were around my age, it was easier to compare notes and make connections than in a typical shelter.
Jovenes helped me find warehouse positions that allowed me to save enough to put down first and last months’ rent for an apartment owned by the organization. I now rent a $500a-month unit in the South Park neighborhood near downtown L.A. I also have found time to enroll at Santa Monica College. It’s a hike from downtown, but Santa Monica has a strong transfer rate; in two years, I expect to transfer to the University of Southern California.
Jovenes doesn’t work for everyone — that’s my point. I understand why the other shelters I stayed at had certain regulations. Parents with minor children, recovering drug addicts, disabled veterans and the mentally ill all have different needs. And so do homeless youth. The biggest mistake that’s being made in the homelessness services field is trying to use a one-size-fits-all approach.
I’m still working to improve my life and those of my peers. One part of this was serving as a counter in the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority’s Homeless Count. To improve accuracy, the counts are reaching out to regions that were missed before and looking for homeless youth who might be living on the streets or in a car, as I once did. I was part of the first youth count in East Los Angeles.
There’s real potential for homeless young people to help each other — to learn from our mistakes and to bond over our successes. A young person can go from homeless or in a gang to being a fully formed successful adult — in just two or three years. I’m fortunate to be one of those who have changed.