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At the age of eight, my family and I had to move out of our home, and we ended up moving in with a family friend. We were homeless. At the time, I was unaware of the term and rarely thought about my family as impoverished. I knew the concept of “being poor,” and I had seen people on the streets, but when you are going through it, it is a very different feeling, like an exposed feeling.
We tend to acknowledge issues only when we face the consequences of these underlying problems. For example, we have an underlying racial issue in the United States that became extremely apparent once again as the Black Lives Matter movement kicked off in 2013. These underlying problems exist, but it takes being face-to-face with an issue for us to address it.
In 2023, the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development found that there were more than 27,000 Texans who did not have a permanent home. This number indicates individuals who may be staying on the streets, in hotels, in their cars, etc. In Dallas and Collin counties, the latest numbers show 3,718 residents are without homes.
The issue of homelessness is a complex dilemma because there are various opinions on how we should address it. Some might not agree that homelessness is an “issue,” but when you have members of your community staying on the streets, that is a problem that needs to be addressed so no one has to ever sleep on the streets or in their car.
The case of Grants Pass v. Johnson that the Supreme Court of the United States recently heard is a good example of how complicated it is to adequately address the issue of home-
lessness. The Grants Pass community in Oregon attempted to make it extremely uncomfortable for those who were staying in parks. These parks are open to the community, so anyone is welcome. But Grants Pass residents complained about the trash and the overall appearance of the parks while seeing people camping there.
The appearance of any public space is crucial to your overall enjoyment of your home. Grants Pass happens to be in the wine country of Oregon, which welcomes tourists from all over to its lively artistic events. The appearance of the community is crucial to continued tourism. It is understandable to want to evict those who may not be conventionally presentable.
However, there must be an adequate solution in place before you can start pushing people out of a place. Grants Pass community members decided to shut off water access, close the restroom, and issue fines as part of their methodology.
The problem came when discussing the Eighth Amendment and the use of cruel and unusual punishment which was brought up
during the Supreme Court hearing. The defendents in the Grants Pass v Johnson case questioned whether it was cruel to punish those who were sleeping in public spaces throughout the community. The Martin v City of Boise case from 2018 was brought up during the Supreme Court hearing of the Grants Pass case. The Supreme Court concluded under the Eighth Amendment that cities cannot punish homeless people for sleeping on public property if they are unable to get shelter.
Grants Pass only has one shelter available and its strict religious requirements lead some people to find shelter in public parks. However, forcing anyone to obey by any religious regulations to receive help can in itself be considered cruel. Therefore, it is crucial that the city of Grants Pass, or any city for that matter, provide accessible shelters for those who are unhoused. Providing these shelters and offering services can discourage individuals from staying in public spaces and keep the integrity of those spaces and the individuals.
STREETZine is a program of The Stewpot.
The STREETZine is a monthly newspaper published by The Stewpot, a ministry of the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas. The Stewpot provides services and resources for people experiencing homelessness or who are at risk of being homeless. The organization also offers opportunities for a new life.
As part of this ministry, the STREETZine seeks to raise awareness about the issues surrounding homelessness and poverty. The monthly publication also offers financial opportunity for Stewpot clients who sell the paper to Dallas residents. Vendors are able to move towards economic self-sufficiency by using the money they receive from selling copies to purchase bus passes, food, and necessary living expenses. Clients also receive stipends for contributing articles to STREETZine
The content in STREETZine does not necessarily reflect the views or endorsement of its publisher, editors, contributors, sponsors or advertisers. To learn more about this publication, contact Betty Heckman, Director of Enrichment, 1835 Young Street, Dallas, Texas 75201 or BettyH@thestewpot. org. To read more about STREETZine, a member of the International Network of Street Papers, go to www.thestewpot.org/streetzine.
Managing Editor: Wendy Rojo
Editorial Advisory Board: The Rev. Amos Disasa
Brenda Snitzer
Suzanne Erickson
Russell Coleman
Poppy Sundeen
Sarah Disasa
William McKenzie
Betty Heckman
Dee Leone
Photo Editor: Jesse Hornbuckle
Editor’s Note: This essay is excerpted from a sermon that Rev. Disasa preached at the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas on March 31, 2024.
I almost forgot what happened on an ordinary day a few years back. The memory was lost for a while, concealed by the passing of time and shrouded by the haze of more remarkable occasions. The memory came back recently when I read a verse from the book of the prophet Isaiah: “It will be said on that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. This is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”
The prophet’s vision came to an unremarkable Ethiopian restaurant in North Dallas. One ordinary day, I was on my way back to church after visiting a church member. It was probably a Wednesday or Thursday; I don’t remember exactly, but I know it was around lunchtime because I was hungry.
The prophet’s vision came to an unremarkable Ethiopian restaurant in North Dallas.
Lunch is usually an afterthought for me on days when I’m not scheduled to eat with someone or attend a meeting where food will be served. It’s not that I’m too busy to break for lunch, I just forget about it until the last minute and then I forage around the church, checking each of the four refrigerators for leftovers from someone’s committee meeting.
So, you can see now how I ended up at the Ethiopian restaurant on a random weekday requesting a table for one in the back. Ethiopian restaurants are notoriously practical about their decor. It was my first visit to this one. The menu was familiar, just like the scene: clear rubber tablecloths, stackable banquet chairs, and traditional Ethiopian baskets haphazardly nailed to the walls.
It was an ordinary day, an ordinary lunch,
at an ordinary table, at an ordinary Ethiopian restaurant tucked in an ordinary strip mall; the whole scene destined to be erased from my memory to make room for the triumphs and tragedies, deaths and resurrections, friends and strangers, joys and sorrows, Easters, Christmases, reunions, road trips, tears, unanswered prayers, and unexpected grace worth remembering.
It was an ordinary day, and I can’t tell you which day of the week it was exactly, but I’m certain that 700,000 people in Texas that day did not know where their next meal would come from.
I forgot what I ordered that day, but I’m certain that somewhere an immigrant was on their way to their second job washing dishes at a restaurant famous for their signature dish of rich food filled with marrow served with a well-aged wine strained clear.
I don’t remember the month, but I’m certain that somewhere that day a mother would prepare her child’s body for burial, another life lost to another war fought by children given no other choice.
I’m not certain which church member I visited before lunch, but I’m certain that somewhere the tears of cast outs, scapegoats, prisoners, orphans, and widows were falling from faces, pooling into the open palms of people easily forgotten by a world that would rather look away.
It was an ordinary day. Nothing was to be expected of it. It should have been forgotten. It almost was.
It was an ordinary day. The dull hum of the human condition – that we are made in the image of God and yet still capable of causing each other so much hurt – was perceptible if I dared to listen. It was an ordinary day. Nothing was to be expected of it. It should have been forgotten. It almost was.
The prophet Isaiah remembered it for me with a vision of God wiping away all the tears from all the faces. It’s a resurrection promise perfectly suited for the season of Easter. But then what? What are we supposed to do next? Is there more to the vision than no more tears? How will we know the empty tomb and the defeat
Continued on page 5
Editor’s Note: STREETZine posed a series of questions to Stewpot Executive Director Brenda Snitzer about the issues involved in the City of Grants Pass, Oregon, v. Johnson, a case that the Supreme Court of the United States heard in late April and that this edition of STREETzine is focusing upon. Below are her answers, which only have been edited for length or clarity.
Does a city have a responsibility to people in its community experiencing homelessness? And “city” does not just mean a government. It also means the people and organizations that comprise a community.
Every city should be concerned about all its residents, whether housed or unhoused. This includes the city and county government as well as various organizations and residents. Nonprofits and other civic groups and government authorities that show concern for the betterment of a community should consider how to bring about equity and support for the citizens as a whole.
Every city should be concerned about all its residents, whether housed or unhoused. This includes the city and county government as well as various organizations and residents.
What should those responsibilities include?
Communities, cities, states and other regional bodies are designed to enact laws and policies to guide or enforce the goals of the people they represent. The purpose of local government has also become increasingly a mechanism to deliver services.
One city manager, James Keene of Palo Alto, California, sees “the deeper purpose of government, especially at the local level… as a way to establish and maintain agreements on how we are going to live together.” In this vein, responsibilities might include, as he once told Governing: “not merely a service deliverer, but also as a convener, facilitator and a clarifier.”
You chair the All Neighbors Coalition, whose purpose is to bring together ser-
vice providers to collaboratively address the needs of people experiencing homelessness in Dallas and Collin counties. Why do you think that shared mission is important? And what are a couple of examples of your collective work?
Housing Forward leads the Continuum of Care for Dallas and Collin counties. Every community that seeks federal funding for homelessness must have a Continuum of Care and a lead agency responsible for it. In our case, Housing Forward is responsible for ensuring the collection of organizations addressing homelessness are working on a strategy and implementing an effective response system.
We are working to make homelessness rare, brief, and non-recurring in these two counties. We have proven over the past three years that having a shared mission across the collection of organizations makes an impact.
For example, we have seen a drop in homelessness since 2021. That includes a 19% decrease in overall homelessness and a 24% decrease in unsheltered homelessness.
We are working to make homelessness rare, brief, and non-recurring in these two counties. We have proven over the past three years that having a shared mission across the collection of organizations makes an impact.
The All Neighbors Coalition, which consists of a collaborative network of organizations, has been able to house more than 10,100 people experiencing homelessness in Dallas and Collin counties since 2021. That’s according to reports from the 2024 State of Homelessness in Dallas and Collin counties.
Due to this work, The Stewpot, along with other partners, are able to move people from living in encampments and shelters to getting them housed. It literally takes the village.
What’s the one thing you want people to know about Stewpot clients experiencing homelessness or at risk of such?
That the majority did not choose to be homeless. They are folks just like us who have had a series of difficult situations that caused their homelessness. Many believe that the majority of people today are one crisis away from losing a place to live. For most, it is a lack of a support network when a crisis occurs.
Brenda Snitzer is executive director of The Stewpot.
While most of us are settling into our comfy beds at night, Mike Norwood is stretching out on the grass at a park in downtown Dallas. “I’ve been camping out for the past couple of years,” he says, “coming off Covid.”
The pandemic didn’t directly affect Mike’s physical health, but it had a significant impact on other aspects of his wellbeing. “I’d worked in security almost all my life. Then came Covid and the cutbacks. I was trying to get another job, but you couldn’t even go in for a one-one-one interview.”
With no income, Mike soon found himself homeless.
Initially, he stayed at Austin Street shelter. “It was pretty good for a while, and then I just started bouncing around.” He hasn’t spent a single night at a shelter since. “Shelters are okay, and they do help you,” he admits, “but if you live on the street and know where to go, you can get pretty much everything you need.”
In a short while, Mike identified his go-to places. He learned where to get out of the rain, where to seek respite from the summer heat, and where to find protection from the winter wind. He even rode out last January’s prolonged freeze without availing himself of the city’s temporary shelters. “I got a good sleeping bag from The Stewpot, and I got a good coat.”
He also forged friendships with fellow campers. “I’ve got people I don’t mind being around.” He explains that camping out with companions reduces the danger of having belongings stolen—something that has happened to Mike a time or two. “It goes with the territory. You know, two o’clock in the morning, when you’re asleep. It’s usually younger kids. If they’re hungry, they might take your bag.” Despite the rare instance of theft, Mike has never worried about his physical safety.
To Mike’s way of thinking, there are unwritten rules for sleeping in public. “If you make a mess, clean it up. Don’t be too
loud. Be nice. It’s basic stuff, common sense.” Not everyone follows the rules. “Some do. Some don’t. The guys I hang out with, we clean up every morning.”
Morning is also when campers are expected to get up and pack up. “In the morning, if people don’t get up, they’ll be addressed by security officers. And then after two or three times, they’ll call the police and the police will get them up.” In rare instances, Mike has seen the police make arrests. “I think the charge is criminal trespass.”
Mike doesn’t have a strong opinion about the sprawling encampments that have engendered so much controversy. “I’ve never been part of an encampment myself. I think some of those people live in them because they feel safe together.” He acknowledges the complexity of the homelessness issue. “I can see both sides. If they’re able to, a person needs to take care of themselves. That’s if they’re able to. But there are some people who really have big problems like mental illness. So, I think maybe it’s up to the rest of us to help them.”
When Mike packs up and leaves the park
in the morning, he heads for The Stewpot. “Three years ago, a friend told me about their art studio.” He decided to apply. After reviewing his work, program director Betty Heckman gave Mike an enthusiastic nod. He’s had regular spot in the studio ever since.
Art was already a longtime hobby for Mike, but now it’s a major focus of his life. “I’m currently painting flowers. I change gears — flowers, scenic stuff, jazz.”
Mike’s paintings have proved popular at art shows, including The Stewpot’s annual Soup’s On event. “That’s a big show. Everybody at the studio sold something this year.”
The proceeds of his art sales provide pocket money, but far from enough to afford an apartment. “Sure, I’d like the niceties of having my own place, but I can’t complain about my situation—as long as I get to paint.” As to the future, “I don’t think about it. Probably should. But if I’m this happy in five years as I am right now, then what’s the harm?”
Poppy Sundeen, a Dallas writer, is a member of the STREETZine editorial board.
Continued from page 2
of death was real and not another metaphor?
When I imagine the day that I almost forgot, I hear the cackle of laughter coming from the only other table that was occupied in the restaurant. Actually, it was two tables pushed together. Seated around it were five middle-aged men that made enough noise for 10. They were drinking coffee and eating boccolo, a dried grain each of them scooped from a bowl and popped in their mouth dramatically between sips. I wondered how they managed to not choke on the boccolo considering how often they laughed. They spoke Amharic, a language I’ve mostly forgotten over the years.
Truth is, it wouldn’t have mattered how much Amharic I retained because there were at least three conversations going on at the same time, and every other sentence was capped with a chorus of laughs. Big laughs, hearty laughs, uncontrollable laughs.
After the laughs some of them had to
take a break while they wiped tears from their eyes with a handkerchief. And then, it’d start again: the storytelling, the cackling, then the handkerchief.
They’d been transported somewhere else. They were gone. Time meant nothing. The past and the future had collapsed into each other. It was as if they heard Isaiah say, “Let us rejoice and be glad,” and took it upon themselves to kick off the party.
It’s become ordinary, maybe even fashionable for Jesus followers, to be skeptical about visions of the future that include joy and gladness. I predict that if the prophet Isaiah was giving this “Let us rejoice and be glad” sermon during an election year like this one, at least 50% of the worshippers would whisper under their breath, “Rejoice about what?”
They’d been transported somewhere else. They were gone. Time meant nothing. The past and the future had collapsed into each other.
I too doubted that anybody could actually be that happy in an Ethiopian restaurant
in the middle of the day. Didn’t they know there is a war going on back home? And don’t they know about George Floyd, and
But they saw something I couldn’t see. They’d escaped the tyranny of the urgent. They’d traveled to the future and come back to tell me about it.
Ukraine, and the pandemic, and politics, and inequality, and climate change, and a lack of affordable healthcare? How can they rejoice and be glad when the prayers of God’s children are coming back empty?
But they saw something I couldn’t see. They’d escaped the tyranny of the urgent. They’d traveled to the future and come back to tell me about it. I don’t have any idea if they were spiritual, but I knew their joy was not of this world. They were offering me a glimpse of Isaiah’s vision. Their laughter echoed their hope that everything was going to be alright.
Reverend Amos Jerman Disasa is senior pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Dallas.
My husband and I had an unusual experience this past week. We still live in a tent close to White Rock Lake and Creek. My husband Bill was going to 7-11 to get a couple of soda drinks. Before he got halfway up the trail, a baby armadillo came darting out of the bushes and landed on his shoe! Bill immediately picked him up and brought him back to our tent. The armadillo was shivering and scared. And hungry!
Over the years, we have rescued several of the wildlife here, fed them, and checked them for injuries. After a few hours and sometimes a day or two, we let them resume their normal lives.
But this baby armadillo was quite different. We did a little research and found out what armadillos eat and some of their habits.
Bill and I have rescued dogs, cats, puppies, kittens, and birds, but this was a new experience. We put the armadillo in a cat carrier with leaves and twigs. After a couple of hours, we let him out to forage for bugs and worms.
Afterwards, he walked back to Bill and sat on his shoe. It was so cute how the armadillo followed my husband around like a puppy dog. After all, it was my husband who rescued him. We named him Dandy Andy Armadillo.
Now at White Rock Lake, a pair of bald eagles live at the north end of the lake close to Lake Highlands. I haven’t found the nest yet, but a couple of weeks ago, I saw one of them fly over our tent not too high up.
I stood there in shock, and then it looked down at me. I don’t think there were any words to describe what I was feeling at that moment.
Some people may not know that American Bald Eagles are federally protected. People who try to kill or capture an eagle will end up at a federal penitentiary.
I dedicate this story to all the rescuers and rescue groups who take their personal time to help animals, both domestic and wild, so that they can be healed, fed, and rehabilitated back into the wild or given loving homes. I also dedicate this story to the awesome wild and free animals, whose beauty is so unique. Their strength gives me the will and desire to keep going and keep learning.
Vicki Gies is a STREETZine vendor and frequent STREETZine contributor.
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The Dallas Morning News recently wrote about the point-in-time counts that took place in Dallas and Collin counties. The count took place back in January and is done annually by local agencies to report those who are homeless throughout the United States.
1. Dallas and Collin counties’ point-in-time count is 3,718, making it the lowest count since 2015.
2. Housing Forward marked 2024 as the third consecutive year of reduction in homelessness in Dallas and Collin counties.
3. In 2021, homelessness reached its peak in Dallas and Collin counties.
4. Homelessness, in 2014, fell by 19% and unsheltered homelessness fell by 24%.
5. Reduction was attributed to the collaborative All Neighbors Coalition, which is about 150 local organizations that are working towards ending homelessness in Dallas and Collin counties.
6. January 2024 count also found a decrease in subpopulations: family homelessness dropped 15%, youth homelessness fell 22%, and veteran homelessness declined 22%.
7. Of the 3,718 homeless people counted in January, 88% were from Dallas County and 12% were from Collin County.
8. While Black households make up just 19% of the general population in Dallas and Collin counties, nearly 57% of people experiencing homelessness are Black.
9. About 28% of people experiencing homelessness are White, more than 9% are Hispanic, and about 1% are Asian.
10. Only 22% of households were adults with children, while 78% were adults only.
Editor’s Note: Each Friday morning at 10 a.m., The Stewpot hosts a Writers’ Workshop. During the sessions, participants address selected topics through prose or poetry. In this edition of STREETZine, we feature the essays of writers that explore the concept of cities having the right to police their public spaces versus the criminaliaztion of the homeless.
Invisible
By Savita VegaIt must have been late January or early February. I had just learned of Our Calling and started going there to get a hot meal and a shower or sometimes wash my clothes. The temperature that morning was below freezing. The field across the street from the facility lay under a thick sheet of frost and shone white in the early morning light as I came around the bend and parked my car by the fence. Already a few other homeless people were beginning to mill about, waiting for the gates to open, waiting for the feeding to commence. Some wore thick coats; others were wrapped in blankets, which they dragged behind them through the frost.
Sitting in my car with the heater running while gazing out across a field of ice toward the cityscape which lay in the distance, I noticed a silver tarp not more than 20 yards from the edge of the road out in the field. Of course, it was covered over and camouflaged with frost. But then I noticed, with intense horror, that the tarp began to move, and a woman burst forth from beneath it, sitting bolt upright on the frigid earth. It was someone I knew! A woman I had met several times inside Our Calling.
In fact, the first day I went to Our Calling, when I didn’t know where to go or what to do, she noticed my confusion and called me over to sit at her table. Then she told me how things worked there. She was kind to other people too, especially the differently abled and those who needed a little extra help. I remember how meeting her that day had been so uplifting. She was just so positive about everything, so upbeat, and so genuine.
And yet there she was, frozen to the earth beneath a sheet of ice. I got out of my car and walked toward her. By the time I got over there, she was already standing, straightening her clothes and starting to put her things away. “I have some hot water in a thermos,” I said. “Would you like me to make you some coffee?”
“Nah, it’s five till,” she said. “They’ll be
opening the gate in just a few minutes. I can wait.”
“You sure?” I asked. “Don’t you have a tent?”
“I’m sure. And no, they don’t let us pitch one. Not here.” She turned and motioned toward the cityscape in the background, just across I-30. “They say we ruin the view,” she said, pointing to the upscale apartments that dotted the cityscape half a mile away.
I was seriously thinking of giving her my North Face tent that I had in storage. The thought popped into my mind the moment I saw her surface from beneath that tarp with frost in her hair. I was rather attached to my tent, but, I mean, what else was I supposed to do? This woman was sleeping under a tarp on the frozen ground!
“Are you sure about that?” I asked. “Maybe if you pitch the tent over there, under one of those trees or up against the fence….”
“No,” she said. “We were told that they complained and that the powers that be ruled in their favor.”
I looked up toward the many posh apartments across the freeway, overlooking the near apocalyptic-like landscape where we stood — a vast waste of fenced-up vacant lots, abandoned buildings with windows broken out, a landscape now dotted with the zombie-like bodies of homeless, wrapped in blankets, slowly making their way toward Our Calling to receive what might be their only hot meal of the day.
“You mean to tell me that the people living in those apartments — with heat and hot water and furnishings from Pottery Barn and Anthropologie — those people have decided that you can’t pitch a tent over here, on the other side of the freeway, because it ruins their view?!”
“Yep, that about sums it up,” she said. “Now we better go and get in line. I’ll come back later and fold up my tarp before breakfast. Nobody’s going to steal it.
Editor’s Note: In late April, the Supreme Court of the United States heard the City of Grants Pass, Oregon, v. Johnson. The case involves whether a community has the right to keep its parks and other sites free of people living in them, even if the city offers very few, if any, services to those experiencing homelessness. Or do those experiencing homelessness have a right to sleep in such places in such communities without being penalized or arrested? The justices’ decision is expected later this summer.
Participants in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop spent two sessions of their weekly Friday meetings this spring discussing the ins-and-outs of the case. You will find their responses on this page and following ones.
It’s invisible anyway.”
I didn’t bother to check on her claim, because it sounded plausible, even familiar. I mean it’s exactly the sort of thing you see in the news all the time: some group of homeowners attempting to make the homeless disappear, attempting to force them to become invisible in one way or another. It’s just like the Grants Pass case in Oregon. Let’s evict the homeless from a public park. Let’s remove them from the sidewalk. Let’s make panhandling illegal so maybe we can starve them out, light a blowtorch and burn them out (it’s been done before), whatever it takes — just exterminate them! Does anyone up there looking down on that encampment below — anyone up there in a cozy chair by a warm fire — know what a burden it is on the soul to be treated day in and day out like a cockroach, to constantly be asked to shrink back into the crevices and become invisible?
Savita Vega is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
The Grants Pass Case Raises Complex Issues
By James VarasAs we all met recently in the Writers’ Workshop to prepare this edition of STREETZine, we had a lively discussion about homeless encampments dispersed on a waterfront in Oregon. We debated whether it was right to arrest, fine, and even jail people without homes for sleeping outside if the city in which they live lacks shelters. What do the homeless do? What should cities do?
My first notion was why would anyone homeless stay in a place with no facilities? My next notion was what type of homeless people are they?
There are so many different types of homeless people. Some have jobs and work. Some are in transition. Some are violent and mentally ill. Others have just fallen on hard times.
In the Grants Pass, Oregon, case, what
After learning about the Grants Pass v. Johnson case, I must say you have to respect a country where a homeless person can take a case all the way to the Supreme Court. It is a turning point in allowing everyone to have a voice. With an explosion in the number of individuals who are homeless without an equal increase in available services, it was only a matter of time until a crisis point was achieved.
What makes this case so important is that this has become a nationwide problem with the future of how we treat the homeless population in the hands of nine justices. Having experienced life on both sides of this argument, I am thankful that I am not in one of those nine individuals’ shoes.
Let me start by saying not too long ago I lived a vastly different life. I had an excellent job, a vehicle, and paid the mortgage on a small house. I had my fair share of struggles but never experienced homelessness. During that time, I felt compassion for those individuals who were homeless, but I did it from a distance. If their lives did not intrude into mine, I really would have paid little attention to their strugle.
During that time, I saw few encampments, but times have changed. This is where the prob-
category of homeless people are these? Do they do and sell drugs? Do they trash their surroundings? Or are they peaceful and respectful of their surroundings? Do they panhandle? Do they abuse the system? Do they set up campgrounds and keep bringing in more and more junk?
I researched the area that was being questioned and it appears to be a very gorgeous place. Are the people in question natives of the area or did they just come to visit and never left? I have been to many beautiful places but unfortunately when it was time to go, it was time to go.
When I look at the pictures of this beautiful area, it looks like a gorgeous camping spot, somewhere I might go on a family vacation or even go visit on the weekend to go fishing. Most of the campgrounds I have been to in Texas, though, make you pay for camping. I know most of these parks try to preserve the wildlife and keep the forests safe and clean.
lem gained some traction. Citizens started to pay attention once the lives of the unhoused intersected with those of the housed. This is the real reason for why the people of Grants Pass started policing the homeless. The site became a constant stain in their field of view.
To be honest, when I was a tax-paying citizen, I think the site would have bothered me to an extent as well. Not enough to make me want to criminalize their actions, but I would stop going to the public places where it was a problem.
Now, let us look at this case through my current eyes and past years of experience. When you are homeless, life becomes a constant battle. One in which you might win some, then lose some. But without help you never truly gain any ground.
That said, when you are left with a limited number of options, criminalizing homeless people is the last thing you need. Especially when you are living in a place without proper shelter options that forces you to become involuntarily homeless.
I have been in this situation personally, where the streets or woods were the only options. So, I do not see how you can criminalize something as human as the right to sleep.
This is why I will always advocate for anything that improves the lives of people who are
So, the real question is where do people go if they are homeless? Maybe they should be transported to a place that can help. Maybe we should build facilities in every state and city to address the homeless community.
Building those places can help those in need. The mentally ill, for example, should not be free to roam around the streets unsupervised. They need help and should be at a place that can take care of them. Just like all people, they need help in some way or form.
At the end of the day, there still is one major question: Do the people want help? I’ve noticed that in most campers’ cases, they want nothing to do with shelters. It’s kind of like having a hospital built. The facility is there, but many choose other routes.
James Varas is a STREETZine vendor and participant in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
unhoused, but I understand the other side of the argument. My hope is that the Supreme Court’s decision favors the rights of the involuntarily homeless because it will force the government’s hand to spend money to resolve the issue.
Even though I can see value on both sides, I can note from experience that being homeless is a much more challenging position to be in than having someone’s plight detract from your public areas and experiences. The fight against homelessness can only be fought through compassion. So, instead of complaining and criminalizing, we should act like a good neighbor and help.
I know this idea is easier said than done and at one point in my life I always looked the other way. But, as I mentioned earlier, this is the turning point. I learned from experience that the struggle is real and unfortunately becoming part of the homeless population can happen faster than you can blink.
So, let us look at this time in human history as the moment we started acting like one people rather than a species of haves and have-nots.
Mike McCall is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
Both Sides Have a Point, but Let’s be Practical
By Jason TurnerThe Grants Pass case is the toughest topic we have yet to address in our weekly Writers’ Workshop. I can stand on both the side of the cities and on the side of the homeless. I say that as someone who has been homeless in a small town and in a town with larger resources.
In the Grants Pass case, there are no homeless shelters in the city where people can go. There is only a Union Gospel Mission, where religion is forced upon you. That’s not a good option and it’s barely a shelter, so the park becomes the place where the homeless gather.
I don’t see anything wrong about setting up camps when resources are unavailable. It hurts for residents to see camps, but there isn’t much that can be done if there isn’t any place else to go.
If a town or a city doesn’t have the resources, then they should work closely
with those nearby who have them and move people out. Cities can do that without making homelessness a criminal offense. People should be practical in limiting what others can do.
In no circumstances do I think that homelessness should be treated like a criminal act. I’ve had that happen to me and it’s outrageously unfair and rotten.
Yet I also understand that cities have to make their parks safe. People should not be allowed to put up camps anywhere they see fit. Separation between living quarters and parks and recreation is something that must be done.
And I believe that you have to leave if people don’t want you there. I have run my head into the wall in several places that didn’t want me. I wasted time and energy and was involved in unnecessary cases that only further dug a hole for me.
If you move the people out, though, there should be a place for them to go. If the city wants to get rid of people in the park,
It’s Hard Being Over 50 with No Place of Your Own
By Darin ThomasWhen cities close down places like parks where homeless people camp out, they shouldn’t lock them up. People who are homeless camp in places where they can because they don’t have places to go.
When I was homeless, I walked the streets of downtown Dallas. I didn’t want to get locked up, so I walked a lot. The lack of a place to go is why I think homeless people shouldn’t get locked up for living in places like under a bridge or in a park. I truly believe we need to have more shelter for homeless people.
I’ve been locked up for two months now. And I have a threeyear sentence in the Texas Department of Corrections. When I get out, I still will be homeless. I will go to The Bridge, a homeless shelter in downtown Dallas.
I’ve been homeless for some years now. When I get out of prison, I hope to find some help getting an apartment so that I won’t be homeless. It’s hard for a man over 50 years old to be without a place he can call his own. That’s why I think cities should help provide homeless people a place to stay.
You have some homeless people who don’t want a place to stay. Why, I don’t know. Some don’t want help. I really don’t know what to say about people like that.
But overall, I think cities should help.
Darin Thomas is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
then it should be responsible for providing a worthy shelter or place for them. If the city doesn’t have funds, then relocation is cheaper than criminalization. If they criminalize the homeless, they still have to house and feed them in jail and then increase security.
I will enjoy seeing what the courts say about this case. I was homeless off and on for 10 years. I’ve been treated like a criminal and been in small towns with little to no options. The struggle is real, and being homeless is a learning process. I do wish I never wasted time in the smaller community trying to get resources that either were not there or were being reserved for special cases not brought to my attention.
I’m glad I found a place that could accommodate my needs.
Jason Turner is a STREETZine vendor and writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
Here’s a Solution
By Gershon TrunnellThere is a conflict in Oregon about a park in the city of Grants Pass. The dilemma stems around homeless people sleeping in the park since the city lacks a shelter for them. The only one that exists requires people to attend a religious service.
The residents of the city have a good point about keeping their park as just a park, if the city has a shelter to accommodate its homeless citizens. The city could build a place for people to go get rest, giving them an option other than the city park.
Now, maybe the city thinks adding a shelter would create an eyesore in a place considered beautiful. Or that it would attract more homeless people to the city, and the citizens don’t want that burden or a homeless crisis like we have here in Dallas.
If the people of Grants Pass don’t want to build a shelter, then designate an area of the park for people to occupy. That way, the homeless can be accommodated on one side and residents could enjoy the other. This is part of the future I see: Certain districts or areas of a city will be designated for the homeless community.
Gershon Trunnell is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
Grants Pass v Johnson or is Homelessness a Crime?
By Eric OliverWhen the Supreme Court is involved, the seemingly simple can go off course awfully quick. Suddenly everyone and their dog is a Constitutional Law expert, and off into the woods we go with terms like standing, certiorari, maybe even collateral estoppel. But once in a good while, there appears a case so absurdly clear, with ramifications so instant and visceral, that even the ever-ready legal quicksand has to take a hard swallow before opening its maw.
Grants Pass v Johnson has that rare combination of being both obvious and settled. Nevertheless, the lovely folks of Grants Pass just cannot relent, setting a rule forbidding the use of blankets and cardboard in public parks(!) Wait, they want to ban picnics too? Every picnic I’ve ever assembled has involved not only blankets, but also cardboard. But, wise reader, you know that this rule has nothing whatsoever to do with picnics. And that the Court, by agreeing to hear the case, may be the spur for a new wave of
Oh, vacant lot, where for weeks now a hawk I watch from my balcony comes to perch, talons ready, on the fencepost...!
Oh, vacant lot, where a skunk lives – I know because sometimes I catch a whiff of its scent as I walk my dog around your periphery!
Oh, vacant lot, all the little animals, scurrying, burrowing, leaving trails which I can see from my perch high above the mixed field of flowering weeds the birds and bees love!
Oh, vacant lot, with your one tree, lush and green and your trapped wall of graffiti almost post-apocalyptic were it not for its searing, raw beauty.
Oh, vacant lot, you nurture so many and contain so much, you are the arms of a mother to many, the basket of abundance for the unseen
efforts to criminalize homelessness using punitive – not to mention ineffective –measures.
A literal mountain of briefs was submitted to the court on all sides of the issue, and I invite the frisky among you to explore these at length. My own efforts have laid bare these rather obvious truths: 1) that the ban was intended to make a social ill into a criminal act; 2) that such criminalization does little more than make emerging from homelessness more difficult; and 3) that those who managed to miss these truths lack expertise and are just plain void of compassion.
Returning to the question at hand, is homelessness a crime? Asked another way: If the wealthiest society in all human history writes off a sizeable group of people and refuses them adequate mental health care, and refuses them affordable housing, and now bans blankets and cardboard, is that a crime? Well, yes. And if a town has a shelter, but one that, puzzlingly, charges weekly rent and requires attending a religious service for the privilege of shelter, is that a crime? Well, yes. A number of unhoused folks
creatures, the open-air gallery that turns anger and frustration to art.
Oh, vacant lot, you surely would throw your arms wide and house the homeless, even from your one abandoned structure, you would make the effort, and you would feed them from a backyard garden where tomatoes grow.
Oh, vacant lot, if only you had not been fenced in, the high cyclone wire stretched tightkeep everything and everyone out until the price is right, then sell and build! Make some use of that empty plot!
Savita Vega is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
have pointed out that the ban as it currently stands leaves them no places to go other than a church-affiliated shelter — or out of town.
It makes you wonder if that’s not the point, doesn’t it? My job doesn’t come with a robe and gavel, but it certainly feels to me like belching out regulations to leave someone with no option for the bare minimum of protection from the elements is, yep, a crime.
And so, will the Roberts Court hand down Dred Scott 2.0, declaring that the homeless have no rights the housed are legally bound to respect? Or will they grasp the opportunity to recognize the fundamental purpose of laws and the equal protection that the due process thereof should provide? And to put to rest all such attempts to legislate away the homeless by criminalizing, of all things, blankets and cardboard?
The traditional picnickers of America eagerly await a decision; I myself fear the path this Court may take.
Eric Oliver is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
How Do We Sleep When There’s No Place to Go?
By Cici GuerreI was sad when I saw the new iron fencing go up around the Dallas Public Library on Cedar Springs. That was the first place I felt fairly safe sleeping out in public. We learned really fast that we might not wake up to good weather; it could be raining. But thanks to an overhead, there was a chance of staying dry in a rainstorm, and when the weather was nice, it was a fun location to be in.
I was within earshot of the clubs where people with money and ID could go. I knew I was no longer welcome in that world. I could see the cars go by, but I knew I wasn’t going to be riding in one any time soon. And I knew that no matter how careful I was to pick up after myself, no matter how polite and quick I was to comply with requests, I had become part
Points to Know About the City of Grants Pass, Oregon, v Johnson
Editor’s Note: STREETZine turned to two sources of legal information to get reports and analyses about the Supreme Court of the United States’ April 22 consideration of a potentially landmark case about people experiencing homelessness and the cities in which they live. Below are excerpts from the respected SCOTUS Blog and Harvard Law Today on the one-day hearing.
The Supreme Court was divided over a challenge to the constitutionality of ordinances in a southwest Oregon town that fines people who are homeless from using blankets, pillows, or cardboard boxes for protection from the elements while sleeping within the city limits. The city argued that the ordinances merely bar camping on public property by everyone, while the challengers contended that the laws effectively make it a crime to be homeless in the city and therefore violate the Constitution’s ban on cruel and unusual punishment.
—Amy Howe, SCOTUS Blog, April 22, 2024
The ordinances under review hail from Grants Pass, a city with a population of approximately 38,000 and as many as 600 people experiencing homelessness on any given day. To address its homelessness problem, the city in 2013 decided to increase enforcement of exist-
of a world that had best stay hidden from the world I had known. I had become an untouchable in America.
The new iron rails excluded us from using that possibly dry place when it rained.
I was sad but I understood. Who wants a bunch of homeless people on their pretty, manicured lawn? I didn’t want to be anywhere I didn’t have the right to be. But I had nowhere to go. I didn’t know my way around town, I had no eyeglasses. I was scared and didn’t know what to do.
Can you imagine walking all night until, exhausted, you sink onto the concrete and say, “This will do. I will sleep here. Until someone tells me to go?”
Can you imagine wondering if you will ever stop looking behind buildings for a safe place to sleep?
ing ordinances that bar the use of blankets, pillows, and cardboard boxes while sleeping within the city.
The ordinances impose a $295 fine for violations, with the fine increasing to more than $500 if it is unpaid. After two citations, police officers can issue an order that bans the individual from city property; a violation of that order exposes the individual to conviction on criminal trespass charges, which carry penalties of up to 30 days in jail and a $1250 fine.
—Amy Howe, SCOTUS Blog, April 22, 2024
After the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit ruled, in a case involving Boise, Idaho, that the Eighth Amendment’s ban on cruel and unusual punishment prohibits the imposition of criminal penalties for sitting or sleeping outside by people experiencing homelessness who do not have access to shelter, three people who are homeless in Grants Pass went to court to challenge that city’s ordinances. The lower courts agreed with the challengers that enforcement of the ordinances violates the Eighth Amendment, setting the stage for the Supreme Court’s review.
—Amy Howe, SCOTUS Blog, April, 22, 2024
Representing the city, Theane Evangelis told the justices that Grants Pass, “like cit-
I hope you cannot. But if you ever find yourself looking, I want you to know this. I was finally able to stop looking and you will be okay too.
In one way or another, every homeless person has been through this journey. And in the Grants Pass case, I’m sure those plaintiffs would prefer to be somewhere they were welcomed. No one sleeps where they’re not wanted except in desperation. I wonder whether a court ruling will ever address desperation, either among those who have nowhere to sleep or among those who don’t want to see their beautiful parks befouled.
Cici Guerre is a writer in The Stewpot’s Writers’ Workshop.
ies nationwide,” “relies on camping laws to protect its public spaces.” The court of appeals, she contended, tied the hands of Grants Pass and other municipalities in the 9th Circuit “by constitutionalizing the policy debate over how to address growing encampments.”
—Amy Howe, SCOTUS Blog, April 22, 2024
Kelsi Brown Corkran, representing the challengers, argued that because Grants Pass defines a “campsite” as anywhere a homeless person is, within the city, with a blanket, it is “physically impossible for a homeless person to live in Grants Pass” without facing the prospect of fines and jail time. The order barring the city from enforcing its ordinances, she insisted, still leaves the city with an “abundance of tools” to address homelessness.”
—Amy Howe, SCOTUS Blog, April 22, 2024
Whether the Court decides the ordinances in Grants Pass are “cruel and unusual” may … come down to whether it believes that the laws are punishing a behavior — camping on public land — or a status, being without a home.
—Harvard Law Today, April 22, 2024
What is STREETZine? STREETZine is a nonprofit newspaper published by The Stewpot of First Presbyterian Church for the benefit of people living in poverty. It includes news, particularly about issues important to those experiencing homelessness. STREETZine creates direct economic opportunity. Vendors receive papers to be distributed for a one-dollar or more donation.
Distributing STREETZine is protected by the First Amendment.
STREETZine vendors are self employed and set their own hours. They are required to wear a vendor badge at all times when distributing the paper. In order to distribute STREETZine, vendors agree to comply with Dallas City Ordinances.
If at any time you feel a vendor is in violation of any Dallas City Ordinance please contact us immediately with the vendor name or number at streetzine@thestewpot.org
31, SECTION 31-35 of the Dallas City Code
Solicitation by coercion; solicitation near designated locations and facilities; solicitation anywhere in the city after sunset and before sunrise any day of the week. Exception can be made on private property with advance written permission of the owner, manager, or other person in control of the property.
A person commits an offense if he conducts a solicitation to any person placing or preparing to place money in a parking meter.
The ordinance specifically applies to solicitations at anytime within 25 feet of:
Automatic teller machines; Exterior public pay phones; Public transportation stops; Self service car washes; Self service gas pumps; An entrance or exit of a bank, credit union or similar financial institution; Outdoor dining areas of fixed food establishments.
