Why ‘Point-in-Time’ count of Brevard’s homeless matters
MELBOURNE — Carl Brown has no permanent address, much less a kitchen and dinner table.
But on a recent Monday night, the setting sun blazing orange behind him, the 49-year-old Titusville man came rolling through Sand Point Park in his wheelchair to join others for a chicken and noodles dinner and some companionship near the A. Max Brewer bridge.
It was a chance to feel cared for — and, most importantly, seen. To feel some of the hope that Brown tries to capture in the poetry he writes on scraps of cardboard in his tent home.
For that evening, volunteers of Under the Bridge Ministry made sure Brown knew he — as an individual — mattered. That might sound trite but it’s something being homeless can take from you, Brown acknowledged.
Come Jan. 30, Brown and others will be counted more literally but no less importantly as part of the local “Point-in-Time” count when agencies scour homeless camps, emergency shelters, areas under bridges and other locales to find Brevard’s homeless.
For a dozen years now, the Brevard count — one designed to get a number on sheltered and unsheltered people experiencing homelessness on a single night in January and chart homeless trends — has hovered between 800 and 900 people.
Data from the national
count, mandated by the United States Department of Housing and Urban Development, helps determine how much federal funding Brevard County gets. That, in turn, can play a role in whether the agencies working to assist Brevard’s homeless can provide the kind of support they know is needed. Support that Brown hopes might help him leave behind his tent and again have a place to call home, where he can cook his own daily meals and reconnect with his daughter.
“I’m a fond lover of cooking,” he said. “Even out at the camp, I was posting pictures of me cooking.”
But the problem is the count is short, officials who work with the homeless say. Year after year, it doesn’t reflect the reality they see. It could be as many as hundreds of people short.
And when the numbers don’t reflect the actual needs of the community, organizations helping the homeless don’t receive adequate funding.
“What that says to the funders out there, the federal government, state government and local government officials, is like, ‘It doesn’t seem like a lot, although that is a lot of people. It doesn’t seem like a lot, maybe we don’t have that big of a problem,’ ” said Amber Carroll, executive director of Brevard Homeless Coalition.
“And so having an accurate count really accentuates the need for more services in our community.”
Brevard Homeless Coalition serves as the “pass-through” entity for government grants, distributing funding from the government to agencies throughout the county. They also help to get homeless individuals placed in housing and oversee the Homelessness Management Information System, previously overseen by 211.
Much related to the count depends on volunteers and organizations familiar with the places area homeless live and travel.
Volunteers, about 100 this year, will travel in teams, starting at 6 a.m. and ending at 7 p.m. They’ll cover designated portions of Brevard — north, south and beachside — with a short survey that asks participants questions such as, “How long have you experienced homelessness?” and “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
Rob Cramp is executive director of Housing for Homeless, a nonprofit in Brevard that works with multiple populations to reduce homelessness, including children, veterans, low-income residents, the elderly and those suffering from mental illnesses or physical disabilities. They provide many services to low and no-income families, including housing placement, intake and assessment and case management.
Since Brevard doesn’t have the concentration of homelessness that a metropolitan area such as Orlando might, “we are obviously competing with these other areas in order to get (funding),” Cramp said.
Brevard gets around three quarters of a million dollars in HUD funds every year, allocated by the Homeless Coalition to agencies including Housing for Homeless. That’s supplemented by state funding in Brevard of around $535,000, Carroll said.
But this “very much depends on how big is the problem,” Cramp said.
“Clearly, the more (people) we can find, the more accurate we are that really represents us, then the better chance we have of securing or keeping up the funding that we already have,” he said.
Sometimes, people don’t want to be counted. Many homeless individuals might not want to be asked the questions on the survey, or share personal information for any number of reasons, from past trouble with the law to family or mental health issues.
Carl Brown is waiting on disability — he lost his right leg a few years ago. He gets supplies he needs through organizations like Under the Bridge. And he understands why some people hide. Or don’t want to talk about their situation, even if their name is not shared.
Brown, however, wants to help get the word out about the Point-in-Time count. He referenced Biblical notions on the perils of pride.
“If there’s one thing I don’t want to be though, it’s too proud ... if I have too much pride, I can lose. I don’t want to be that person,” he said.
Homeless students: Are they counted?
This year, the Housing Coalition is teamed with Brevard Public Schools to get a more accurate count of the district’s homeless students. For now, the number is approximately 1,370. That includes all students “in transition,” a term BPS uses to describe any student who lacks a “fixed, regular and
adequate nighttime residence,” according to their website. This includes students couch surfing or staying with another family. In January 2022, there were about 980 students in transition. There are estimated to be about 400 to 500 who meet HUD’s definition of homelessness.
For the Point-in-Time Count, HUD breaks the definition of homelessness into four categories. These categories are:
Literally homeless: Individuals without a fixed, regular or adequate nighttime residence. This includes people who live in homeless shelters.
Imminent risk of homelessness: People who could lose their primary nighttime residence within the next 14 days. A subsequent residence couldn’t be identified and the person does not have resources or support to find permanent housing.
Homeless under other federal statutes: Unaccompanied youth under the age of 25, or families with kids, who may not otherwise qualify as homeless may fit through this category if they are defined as homeless under other listed federal statutes; have not had a lease, ownership interest or occupancy agreement in permanent housing in the past 60 days; have experienced consistent instability in the preceding 60 days; and are expected to continue to experience this status for an extended period of time.
Fleeing/attempting to flee domestic violence: Anyone who is attempting to escape domestic violence, has no other home and does not have the resources or support to find permanent housing.
By working with the school district, Carroll hopes they can capture a more accurate picture of children in need this year.
“Last year, we had a really low count there. This year, we’re going to be able to have a really solid amount so people understand how many kids in our school system are in transition, or who maybe are unaccompanied minors who are going to school, but don’t have a home to go to,” she said.
HUD’s definition of homelessness impacts more than just students. It can also be frustrating for adults. Take Barbara Perry, who has been homeless — in her eyes — for more than two years.
Since being forced to leave a home that was condemned, she’s lived on the street, at Still Waters Ministries (a transitional housing facility), in a shed on private property, and, since last May, in hotel rooms paid for month to month through the county’s Emergency Rental Assistance, ERA. That won’t last forever.
Perry, like many, has struggled to find help. She looked into housing at Trinity Towers in Melbourne, only to learn there’s a years-long waiting list for the housing for low-income seniors. She doesn’t drive, and her only income is disability. She was offered a job as a front-desk clerk at a hotel, but among other stumbling blocks, she’d need to ride a bike, in the dark, for the shift she was offered.
She’s 61; a cancer survivor with neuropathy in her feet. She breaks into tears when she talks about not being considered by some to be “homeless,” remembering trying to ride her bicycle, against the wind, when she was asked to bring ID to the hotel where she’d been offered employment.
“By the time I got back, I thought, ‘There’s just no way I can do this,’ ” Perry said.
“I have reached out to so many people who are very proactive ... I have the mental fortitude to do so but I have to tell you, I am dealing with some major depression. A lot of times, the weight of my situation is too heavy for me to deal with. I cannot get mail at the hotel. I have no home. I am homeless, too.”