Shelter system braces for a ‘tidal wave’
Bob Duff runs St. Simon’s men’s shelter, on Bloor St. just around the corner from Sherbourne — good place, thoughtful staff, decent grub, kept as clean as possible. And full every night. Guess what? It is not just full but overcrowded, and so are all the other shelters. The system resembles a pillowcase stuffed with a hockey stick, a microwave oven, a beach ball and some boxes of used books. Nothing fits. You can’t get any more in. And things are sticking out.
I can’t tell you the rest of the story without some numbers. Or rather, Bob can’t. He began with a reminder: “In 2013, council passed a resolution that 90-per-cent capacity would be considered full.”
I remember that resolution — great, humane and thoughtful, and a benchmark to guide us and spur us into making improvements How’s it working? Bob said, “Across the shelter system, here are the numbers for yesterday: we’re at 95-per-cent capacity for men; for women, it’s 98 per cent; coed is 92 per cent; and for families in the shelters, it’s 100 per cent.” How’d that happen? In part because Seaton House, our biggest and most progressive shelter, is losing beds as a result of the George St. redevelopment; those beds have yet to be replaced, which puts pressure on the existing shelters, such as St. Simon’s.
Bob said, “Last night, in the best weather, we were at 96-per-cent capacity.”
It’s going to get worse, because we also have new city shelter standards. Those standards are intended to improve conditions in the shelters, but they also mean places such as St. Simon’s are going to lose some beds. Why?
Some of the top bunks at St. Simon’s are too close to the ceiling. Bob said, “You need three and a half feet clearance. It looks like we’re going to lose 12 beds.”
Where do those 12 guys go?
Maybe down into the ravines, or under the bridges; the back alleys may be fine right now, but winter’s coming.
Here’s the upshot: We’re making the system better, but that’s making life worse for the homeless.
What will the loss of beds mean for St. Simon’s? Bob said, “We’re cheap, on the per diem scale; we get $52 a bed. If we lose 12 beds, our operation loses $240,000 a year.” And he runs on a shoestring. I repeat: we’re taking beds out of the system, and we have yet to replace them; and the new standards mean that even more beds will be taken out, all in the name of improvements. The irony: we make things better which means life will get worse for the men, women and children on the street.
Can’t Bob do what shelter supervisors always do, and be, um, creative? He doesn’t have much wiggle room. “Our budget is $1.1 million a year. We spend 53 per cent on wages and benefits; food services are another 30 per cent, and we feed 62 men three meals a day all year long. We pay about 10 per cent in rent.”
Hang on; 10 per cent in rent? I thought the church was — oh, never mind.
“That leaves us with about 5 per cent to spend on communications, insurance, audit and bookkeeping, education for our users and mattresses.”
And here I am reminded of the shelter bed of Procrustes: if your legs are too short, they will get stretched on the rack until you fit; and if your legs are too long, then we’ll cut them to size.
Listen to me. Everyone in Toronto’s shelter system has the best intentions, and everyone does good work. But none of that is worth a damn right now.
And if things are bad now, the future is darker. Bob said, “The age of the guys on the street is going up. We have regulars, six of them, who are in their 70s. The average age of our men is 61. The tidal wave is coming.” He paused. I looked up.
“We’re having to buy adult diapers.” God help us all. Bob said, “Every morning at 8:30, I say goodbye to a guy who’s 74 years old and I have to tell him he can’t come back here until it’s 4:30.”
Yeah, and maybe that guy has a swollen prostate, and he has to take a leak every hour; where does he go, what does he do? We’ve made things better? The hell we have. There are more than 4,000 people — men, women, boys, girls, children and families — relying on shelters every night. The shelter system is a house on fire. You can’t see the flames.
I smell smoke. Joe Fiorito appears on Monday. Email: jfiorito@thestar.ca