Homeless greet Oakland’s new Tuff Sheds with hesitation, hope
OAKLAND >> Lezett Maurice Watkins, who spent the past three months living in a lean-to beneath a West Oakland overpass, is apprehensive about where his next move will take him — into an experimental, city-sanctioned community of converted sheds across the street.
His new home will offer comforts his current makeshift den does not, including a cot, a locking door and a path toward permanent housing. But it comes with a list of rules and a degree of surveillance that make Watkins edgy. Residents can’t cook their own food, must sign in and out of the compound, and can’t use drugs or drink alcohol on the premises. And they must live with a roommate.
“That’s hard for me,” said Watkins, who built a small wall around his leanto with wooden pallets to keep neighbors out. “My trust level is zero.”
Watkins’ concerns highlight the challenges for cities across the Bay Area that are looking for innovative approaches to a growing problem. Oakland isn’t the only city thinking outside the box as it struggles to provide shelter for the homeless — San Jose plans to build be-
tween 20 and 40 tiny homes for its growing population.
Oakland officials on Monday publicly unveiled the city’s second community of Tuff Sheds — 20 forest green sheds on a fenced-in lot at Northgate Avenue and 27th Street — and said the first 10 homeless residents are scheduled to start moving in this week. The new sheds are the next phase in Oakland’s plan to tackle a crisis that has sent shantytowns sprawling across the city’s sidewalks and displaced families into parked cars and RVs that line the streets.
The Northgate project cost almost $1 million, including $175,000 for the sheds, $550,000 for on-site staffing and services and a $125,000 fund for helping residents land permanent housing, but the funds came from outside donors, not from the city’s coffers.
Watkins was one of several people living in a massive encampment at Northgate and 27th who expressed reservations about moving into the sheds but said they were willing to give it a try.
“I’m hopefully going to give this one a shot,” said 31-year-old Jonathan Jacobs. “But if this one doesn’t work out, I’m going to have to construct another plan.”
To Jacobs, the Tuff Sheds aren’t a huge step up from his tent on Northgate.
“We’re still here on the street,” he said, “it’s just on the other side of the street.”
Oakland launched its first Tuff Shed community in December, erecting 20 units at Sixth and Brush streets, and city officials say they have since improved the shelters. The new sheds have three windows instead of one, with double-pane glass to better block out the roar of the freeway and BART trains thundering by overhead. Other improvements include more insulation, doors with deadbolts and low-voltage electricity to power an LED light and charge cellphones. The sheds also are slightly longer than the prior units, providing more space between roommates.
“These Tuff Shed shelters are better,” Assistant City Administrator Joe DeVries, who has spearheaded the project, said during a media tour.
“These will be quieter inside. They’ll be warmer in the winter. They’ll be cooler in the summer.”
The lot will have portable toilets, and nonprofit Lava Mae will bring a shower trailer to the site twice a week. Residents are permitted to have pets and may invite guests over during the day. While they can’t drink or use drugs in the compound, they don’t have to be sober to live there.
“We really are trying to make this hospitable and welcoming,” Oakland Mayor Libby Schaaf said Monday.
Officials say eight people who moved into the Sixth Street sheds have since found permanent housing, and 15 have found jobs.
Officials hope each resident of the new Tuff Shed community will find a job and permanent housing within six months.
But Eugene Jacobs, who sleeps in a large tent on Sycamore Street, said he’s not moving into one of the new Tuff Sheds. The 27-year-old, who said he suffers from bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, knows the dangers of life on the street — he recently woke up to find his tent on fire. But Jacobs, who is Jonathan Jacobs’ cousin, doesn’t like the idea of being confined in a tiny shed behind a fence.
“It makes me feel like I might as well be in jail,” he said.
Those who decline the Tuff Sheds can move into the homeless shelter at nearby St. Vincent de Paul Community Center, but they won’t be allowed to remain on the street in that area.
Watkins, who has had belongings stolen from his lean-to, expects to feel safer and more comfortable in a Tuff Shed. His home now is made out of wood pallets insulated with cardboard and blankets, with a blue tarp as a roof. It’s dim inside, the air smells of disinfectant, and the surfaces are cluttered with clothes and other items. His bed is a leather couch with a divider in the middle that prevents him from stretching out, so most nights he falls asleep sitting up, an awkward position that has caused his foot to swell.
Lester Vender of Operation Dignity, who will be the site manager at the Northgate Tuff Shed community, said people want to move into the sheds. When construction started on the project, more homeless people began moving into the surrounding encampments, hoping to land a spot in a shed.
“They are eager to come in,” he said, “the majority of them.”