Professional Documents
Culture Documents
living in low-income housing; it is with this group of people that I have spent my internship this
quarter. Since July I have been working with the Urban Rest Stop (hereafter to be known as
URS), providing various services and encountering issues well outside our jurisdiction as an or-
ganization that continue to impact the work that we do. Incarceration of homeless individuals
causes problems that impact their lives in huge ways, from employment to their very status as a
homeless individual; but their incarceration often stems from an illegal action that, in any other
circumstances, would not be illegal. For the purpose of this paper I will be using the term inter-
action with illegality (a term I haveto the best of my knowledgecreated and am using for
this paper only) to refer to an action, interaction, or other event that casts a homeless individual
onto the spectrum of illegality. I use this definition because, as will be demonstrated later in the
paper, the criminalization of homelessness has created many illegal actions that turn homeless
individuals into criminals, when a non-homeless person may not be viewed as a criminal for
performing the same action. It is not the action, therefore, that is illegal, but the identity of the
individual as homeless that casts them into the land of the criminal. First, however, I will provide
a background into the organization with I have been privileged to serve with for the past five
months.
The URS is a local organization whose primary purpose is to provide a clean, safe and
welcoming facility where individuals and families experiencing homelessness can come and use
restrooms, laundry facilities and shower (Urban Rest Stop). Hygiene products are also pro-
vided for our patrons to take with them, such as deodorant, tooth brushes and tooth paste, femi-
nine hygiene products, and some basic first aid items. It also, as donations enable it to do so, dis-
tributes clothing. While working there, I as well as my fellow staff members also served as re-
source referrals for individuals who came in searching for a different program, such as Roots, the
needle exchange, and various other services being offered in the area. The URS is a program put
on by the Low Income Housing Institute (LIHI), which works locally in Seattle and:
develops, owns and operates housing for the benefit of low-income, homeless and formerly
homeless people in Washington State; advocates for just housing policies at the local and nation-
al levels; and administers a range of supportive service programs to assist those we serve in
In terms of where the URS fits into LIHIs organizational umbrella, it is a program designed to
help support self-sufficiency among its patrons by allowing them to have access to the basic hy-
giene items that they need in order to live. Our organization aims at serving any homeless or
low-income individual in the Seattle area; however, based on my observations from my time
there, while the age and gender of our patrons does vary greatly, the vast majority of our clients
were men between the ages of 30 and 50. Many of our clients (about 50% from my observations)
The URS works in unofficial collaboration with the organizations nearby. At the location
where I was working, we share a building space with Roots young adult shelter, and were next
door to a building that held a variety of different services, from thrift stores to meals, as well as
other more fun activities such as a talent show. While not officially affiliated with these pro-
grams, we still worked alongside the people who hosted them and referred our patrons to their
services, as they referred their clients to ours. We worked together to help provide our clients
with the most services that we could offer them. Additionally, the URS had an unofficial rule
seemingly akin to the Dont Ask, Dont Tell of the military (though not in the discriminatory
sense). While many of our patrons abused certain substances such as heroin, meth, and other
hard drugs, and many participated in less-than-legal activities (as was admitted to me by pa-
trons several times over the course of my working there), members of the police force (despite
knowing, of course, exactly where we were located) did not ever enter the space unless called to
do so by someone reporting a physical threat to their or someone elses safety. Nor were our pa-
trons less-than-legal activities ever reported to anyone within the criminal justice or another le-
gal system (for obvious confidentiality reasons; also, if our patrons felt threatened by coming to
use our services they would not then return to make use of our services). Thus, we operate slight-
ly similarly to Dont Ask, Dont Tell, in that we neither asked about nor reported on any illegal
activities that our patrons may have been participating in outside of our premises.
As my supervisor, Dan Lewis, noted on one of my first days working with him: people
always forget about this stuff (Lewis); he was referring to the hygiene products that we have
and pass out to our patrons. Donators will generally give clothes and food, but certain basic hy-
giene items are often forgotten in lieu of what is viewed as more important. While food and
clothing are, of course, important donations, a former supervisor of mine, Mary-Pauline Diaz,
once remarked to me that sharing basic hygiene products and allowing people to be clean, to
feel like a normal person taking a shower (Diaz), helps maintain some of their human digni-
ty (Diaz). It reminds them that they are not any less worthy of being clean than anyone else, and
reminds them that they are not left alone to sit in the mud. In addition to helping them maintain a
sense of basic human dignity, however, basic hygiene products serve a very real purpose. Many
of the patrons that I spoke to were in the process of seeking employment, if they were not al-
ready employed somewhere. In order to either find or maintain a job, it is important that they
maintain a certain level of personal hygiene, as employers dont want to hire someone who
stinks (John).
Despite the best intentions of those involved, sometimes the goals of the URS are not
met. One of our most popular and in-demand services is our laundry service, but (at least for the
time that I have served with them since this past July) it is unfortunately rarely offered to our pa-
trons due to the fact that our washing machines are almost always broken. Repair work takes
weeks at a minimum, sometimes over a month, and the machine consistently breaks within days
of having it returned to us. Even when a semi-new machine was delivered to us, it still broke
within days of its delivery. Thus, one service that our patrons demand and depend on is not of-
fered on a regular basis. While the URS also has locations in Ballard and in Downtown Seattle,
patrons are inconvenienced by the distance and often cant make it to the other locations with
enough time to sign up for their laundry slots, making it excessively difficult for them to take
In addition to the issues of broken equipment in the laundry facility, the URS faces other
problems within our specific location. Our water heater, while functional, does not always per-
form to the best of its capabilities, resulting in cold showers for patrons who come in to use our
shower services. This is unfair to them, and also, if we decide to turn off the shower because its
simply too old to be used, takes away an available shower from those waiting in line, increasing
the chance that we will have to close for the night without getting through everyone in line. Fur-
thermore, while most of our basic products (such as shampoo for the showers) are kept well-
stocked by our organization, sometimes we run low, not only on donated items, but on items that
we are supposed to be stocked with at all times. We have had to hand out skimpy amounts of
soap on multiple occasions because our soap supply simply had not been re-stocked. The thing
that most obviously prevents greater success of the URS (and less occasions of broken machines
and out of stock products) is funding. Our organization, while a decent amount of funding, can
always use more, but to receive that funding we would first need more public support. With the
stereotypes surrounding homelessness (that homeless individuals are lazy, inherently criminal,
and other such harmful false ideas), public support is minimal at best.
The URS also deals with other issues, if not directly, then at least indirect through our
patrons. Many of our clients, for one reason or another, have had an interaction with illegality
which has resulted in some negative consequences for them; generally speaking, many (not most,
but still a significant proportion) of our patrons have experienced incarceration for one reason or
another. Their incarceration, among other factors, contributes in turning them into long-term
clients, and reduces their ability to find self-sufficiency. (Regarding the names of those whom I
interviewed at the URS, I will be using the names that they gave me, which I know, in many cas-
es, are not their legal nor their full names. As these are the names they wanted to share with me,
these are the names I will be using when quoting them in this paper. Their legal names are stored
in organizational documentation when they first come in to sign up for services, but they are not
required to give their legal name at any subsequent visit, and I do not have access to that docu-
mentation.)
There is an exceptionally high rate of incarceration among homeless individuals as com-
pared to the general population. Historically speaking, jails have always been de facto institu-
tions for homeless individuals (Metraux, 9-3). This trend continues today, with one article esti-
mating that anywhere between 25-50% of the homeless population has been incarcerated at some
point (Incarceration & Homelessness: A Revolving Door of Risk , 1). This statistic holds true
against my observations during my time at the URS; from general observations of conversations
between patrons to conversations that I have held with them myself, approximately a quarter to
half of the individuals frequenting our location have been incarcerated, most of them rather re-
cently. I frequently heard the phrase uttered, for example, by one young woman explaining why
her friend had not been to our location in several weeks: Oh, hes back in jail for a couple
weeks (Susan). I also held conversations with individuals who admitted to having recently been
released from jail; one man, for example, who gave his name as Sam Adams, admitted that he
had recently been released after his time in jail due to an assault charge (which he states was
merely a bar fight that got out of control [Adams, Sam]). Additionally, incarceration is likely,
for a large proportion of homeless individuals, to occur more than once. In Michigan, for exam-
ple, the recidivism rate for homeless individuals is estimated at 40% (Working to Reduce the
Recidivism of Homeless in Michigan). Many of the URS patrons remark casually about their
peers time in jail, some even betting on how long a particular individual can last on the outside
before they are incarcerated once again. This demonstrates the nonchalant attitude with which
reasons, ranging from what I would describe as large-scale criminal incidents (assault and other
aggressive actions, which) to incidents that I would classify as rather trivial (loitering, sleeping in
a public place, and other such actions). However, the number of people incarcerated due to these
small scale interactions with illegality are entirely too high. The criminalization of homelessness
in on the rise, as is demonstrated in one study that found that approximately 30% of homeless
individuals had been arrested for sleeping in public places, 26% had been arrested for loitering,
and 25% had been arrested for sitting or lying down in public (No Safe Place, 17). I discovered
similar numbers of individuals at the URS who had been either ticketed or incarcerated for simi-
lar reasons. Many of our patrons told me in conversation that they had friends who had spent the
night in jail due to public loitering or sleeping. As one man put it, we cant do anything without
Even sleeping in their own car can often land an individual with a ticket that they cannot
afford to pay. In Paolo Alto, California, sleeping in ones car is punishable by a fine, or up to 6
months in jail (No Safe Place, 23). One man, John, told me that while he has never been tick-
eted specifically for sleeping in his van, he has faced many other problems associated with using
a car as a temporary form of housing (John). He states that he often get tickets for not moving it
for long periods of time, and is asked often by the police to move along and find another place
to park his van (John). Additionally, the price of gas is a problem (as was noted in No Safe
Place, 24). John also admits to issues paying for gas for his van, stating that that is why he does
not move it very often, and why he cannot afford to move it to different places around the city, or
even use it to get out of the city. Luckily for him, he says that the police he has encountered are
normally very understanding and try to give him as many chances as possible before giving him
a ticket on his parked car (John). However, not all police members are so compassionate, and the
Receiving a ticket for not moving your car, violating the ban on sleeping in public, or for
any other interactions with illegality, places an additional burden on homeless individuals. As
John and others complained, they simply do not have the money to pay the ticket (John). Other
evidence shows this, as in the No Safe Place article where a woman, Sandy, says in an inter-
view that she once received a $400 ticket when she could not even afford $80 worth of other
things (20), such as food, clothes, and other necessities. Failing to pay tickets and citations will
only increase the fees showered upon them, putting them even further into a debt which they
cannot pay.
Such interactions with illegality have serious consequences, beyond merely being incar-
cerated. Many homeless individuals, having being incarcerated, find it difficult to get back on
their feet and find their self-sufficiency again to the point where they are stable enough to be able
to afford housing. As the Center for Economic Policy Research (CEPR) states, a prison record
greatly lowers ones chance of finding work (Barber). While this article comes at the issue most-
ly from the perspective of economic loss (claiming that prison record-holders, without their jobs,
cause billions of dollars worth of loss to the U.S. economy every year [Barber), the issue of
finding work remains the same. Many patrons at the URS complained of the same problem.
An article by Anna Blasco says: 74 percent of those surveyed who reported experiencing home-
lessness before their incarceration reported that stable housing would have prevented their incar-
ceration. Many of the clients that I spoke with at URS held similar opinions. While a large pro-
portion of the individuals that I spoke with had some sort of marketable skill (some were chefs,
some were mechanics, some could code, and others simply had the charisma that would make
them a natural businessman), those who had been incarcerated (especially for violent offenses)
faced severe difficulties in getting hired once they were released from the jail or prison system.
As Sam Adams complained, no-one wants to hire you if youve got a record (Adams).
Even if employers are willing to hire them, however, they often arent for well-paying
jobs. John noted that even if he was hired, it was often for a minimum-wage job doing some-
thing like washing dishes (John). While there is nothing inherently wrong in washing dishes,
such low pay for a job that lacks reward is not enough for an individual who needs to be able to
afford housing and food. This low pay mark also continues the cycle within which they are al-
ready trapped. Unable to make enough money, they cannot afford a house, apartment or other
housing alternative, forcing them to seek shelter in the streets, their car, or other relatively public
places. Once on the streets, the cycle is further perpetuated by the criminalization of their very
lives. They receive tickets and can even be arrested merely for attempting to sleep in public,
when they have nowhere else to go. This further criminalization of their identity makes it even
more difficult for them to live, and, trapped in a cycle, will likely eventually be incarcerated once
again (No Safe Place, 34). The following cartoon was drawn in order to demonstrate the terri-
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(Heil and Bloomberg)
While dealing with incarceration is not something that the URS does directly, incarcera-
tion of our clients has a huge impact on our organization; primarily in that as individuals are in-
carcerated and therefore less able to break out of the cycle shown above, they are also less able
to be self-sufficient due to the barriers placed around them when it comes to employment. Un-
able to find a job, they remain homeless or residents of low-income housing; and therefore re-
main patrons of the URS. While we enjoy getting to know our patrons, we always hope that a
Interactions with illegality often, unfortunately, lead to the incarceration of homeless in-
dividuals due to the increasing criminalization of homelessness. As more and more people are
unable to break out of the cycle of recidivism, more strain is placed on organizations such as the
URS, which, try as they might, are not currently equipped to handle the number of people that
require their services. My own observations at the URS confirmed what I read in the articles pre-
sented within this paper; namely that incarceration, even for short periods of time, is, in reality, a
long-term consequence for members of the homeless community who are unduly burdened with
these punishments.
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Works Cited