Homeless Voice; Hostile Architecture

Page 1


HOSTILE ARCHITECTURE

unnecessary armrests

Spikes to stones and defensive design: all urban planning meant to push the unhoused from public spaces

Originally made by a team tasked to raise money from the streets for the shelter, the Homeless Voice was born from the knowledge that freedom of press was a way to raise awareness. We started as a flyer, then a 4-page newsprint, then finally becoming the voice of the homeless with the Homeless Voice newspaper and website in 1999.

The Homeless Voice is owned by the COSAC Foundation, a multi-faceted non-profit agency that feeds, shelters, and arranges access to social and medical services to every homeless person that enters its shelters. We aim to enable them to return to a self-reliant lifestyle, but for the small percentage of people incapable, we provide a caring and supportive environment for long-term residency. Contributers

In this newspaper we hope to present the problems that the homeless population faces day-to-day, the problems these people personally face, and the ways that laws can help and hinder them.

Visit us at to read past issues, see online-only content, and a full map of where you can find this paper.

Many of our vendors are clients of our shelters, brought to different major cities to vend this paper in return for a donation. Based out of Lake City — where our Veterans Inn shelter and Motel 8 is located — or Davie, they are always brought out in groups of four to help each other stay motivated and keep each other company. They’re given plenty of food and water for the day and don bright shirts to distinguish them as our vendors.

Depending on their specific job in vending this newspaper, all vendors take in about 75% of donations that day, with the remaining 25% put back into the paper.

We distribute in all major cities throughout Florida, including Tallahassee, Lake City, Jacksonville, Tampa, Orlando, Daytona, Ft. Lauderdale, Miami, and now Gainesville.

Cover photo by Mary Rasura Cover photo illustration by Andrew Fraieli
Mary Stewart

Photo illustration by Andrew Fraieli

Caught in The Gap: How the SSI Benefits Cliff Keeps Vulnerable Americans Trapped

For millions like Mary Stewart, earning more means losing critical support, creating a Catch-22 cycle of poverty and homelessness that’s difficult to escape.

Mary Stewart spends her nights in a tent in Palm Beach County, away from public view, and her days navigating a labyrinth of federal assistance programs. Diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, and borderline personality disorder, her life is a constant balancing act between managing her mental health and finding stability in a world that, she says, often feels unmanageable.

“I would try to tell people, like, ‘I need help, I need help’ and everybody's telling me if you want help you gotta help yourself,” Stewart said.

She’s 43 years old and has been homeless on and off since Hurricane Wilma struck Florida in 2005. While she receives around $950 in Supplemental Security Income, or SSI,, it’s a drop in the ocean compared to the approximately $1,900 rent for a one-bedroom apartment in the West Palm Beach-Boca Raton metro area.

Stewart’s survival often comes down to a tenuous calculation: if she works even part-time, her SSI benefits are slashed based on a formula that penalizes her for earning more.

According to the SSA, changes in income affect SSI payments two months later. Stewart says if she loses her job, this gap between when her benefits adjust

leaves her unable to pay for essentials.

“I've been through that over and over and over again,” Stewart said.

A System That Discourages Work

Stewart’s experience is emblematic of the broader challenges faced by millions of Americans relying on SSI. The program is designed to provide financial support to individuals who are aged, blind, or disabled who have limited income, but it comes with a major drawback: the “benefits cliff.”

According to the Administration for Children and Families, a division of the United States Department of Health and Human Services, a benefits cliff is “the gap between what someone will earn in a new position or job and the value of benefits lost due to increased income.”

Stewart says this reduction in benefits makes budgeting nearly impossible, especially when paired with the delay in benefits adjustments after job loss.

If someone receiving SSI loses their job, the program’s two-month lag in adjusting benefits can leave them in financial limbo. October income, for example, determines December benefits, meaning someone who loses a job in October won’t see their benefits adjust until December.

“If you lose your job, you know you're not gonna have

that paycheck anymore, you could lose your place to live because you wouldn't have enough for rent,” she said.

Programs That Could Help

The Social Security Administration does provide some work incentives, including a nine-month trial work period for people on SSDI, which is similar to SSI but differs in that SSDI is based on someone’s earnings during their working life while SSI is paid out from the general treasury fund. SSI recipients like Stewart are not eligible for this trial period. The SSA says that they do provide support programs for people trying to work such as vocational rehabilitation.

This fear of losing benefits is particularly acute for individuals managing disabilities that make consistent employment difficult. For Stewart, her autism and PTSD create barriers in high stress, fast-paced environments that require multitasking.

“I'm really, really good as a cashier, I'm good with those numbers. I'm good with that fast pace. When I worked at Wendy's, they wanted me to do the front register, dining room, and cleanup. They want me to be putting the food in the bag. They want me to help drop the fries,” she said.

“And I just couldn't handle all that multitasking. I would get overwhelmed and I would have meltdowns and panic and now I realize that autistic people get overstimulated. We cannot focus on a million things at once because it will get us overwhelmed and that will lead to meltdowns. We can only focus on one task at a time and that looks like my biggest barrier.”

A Call for Change

Stewart’s story underscores the challenges of navigating a system designed to support that can often discourage progress.

The National Conference of State Legislatures (NCSL) — a bipartisan non-governmental organization that, according to their website, aims to foster interstate cooperation — notes that gradual benefit reductions and higher income thresholds could help individuals earn more without risking their financial safety net.

Experts also point to the need for clearer communication about existing programs and incentives, which could alleviate fear and encourage workforce participation.

The NCSL, the Administration for Children and Families, and the W.K. Kellogg Foundation partnered to try and address the challenges posted by benefits cliffs. Their 2019 project “A Whole Family Approach to Jobs: Helping Parents Work and Children Thrive” worked with six New England states and recommended, as a matter of policy, mapping out the financial impacts of benefits cliffs for SSI recipients, aligning eligibility levels, having work supports such as tax credits, helping recipients develop their savings, and promoting systemic change.

“Majority of people I've ever met on SSI straight up refuse to work. They refuse to work because of the impact on the benefits and I try to explain to them that ‘well you actually will get more money working parttime and getting a partial check then just sitting around and waiting for the check,” Stewart said. “But then the biggest fear that people have expressed to me is ‘what if I go and try to go to work and they cut off my check or they cut my check back and then I find out I can't handle the job? Then I'm really gonna be screwed.’”

Housing First Benefits, and Issues, From the Street

Photo illustration by Andrew Fraieli

The Housing First concept is based upon the belief that people need stable housing before they can address other issues such as unemployment, mental illness, and substance abuse. At first, the model seemed to be successful as the majority of those placed in Housing First programs remained housed a year later.

But throughout the process are road bumps, bad actors, and incomplete solutions.

There are two programs that follow the Housing First model: Rapid Rehousing (RRH) and Permanent Supportive Housing (PSH). I personally went through the Rapid Rehousing program last year and am currently looking into Permanent Supportive Housing. RRH focuses on getting individuals and families placed in apartments in the community as soon as possible while covering move-in costs and providing short-term rental assistance. The goal is that the person will be able to afford to maintain the apartment on their own after a year.

Overall, I think it's a good program, but not every client is able to afford the full rental rate due to barriers to self-sufficiency. That was one of my biggest issues, but certainly not the only reason why I became homeless again after a few short months.

Most of the landlords weren't willing to work with my income level and background issues. It was hard to find a unit. My caseworker insisted that the landlords in Belle Glade were more willing to work with the program, so I accepted a beautiful one-bedroom apartment there. However, I'm diagnosed with high functioning autism and post-traumatic stress disorder. I tried to get a job only to lose it within a month, resulting in the reduction of my Social Security benefits — I couldn't even afford my rental subsidy. As a result, I felt like a failure and became very depressed. I sought comfort in a bottle of Bud Light.

There were no twelve-step meetings in Belle Glade. My caseworker suggested substance abuse treatment, but that idea was ridiculous. I was just given an apartment! Now, you think I should leave it to go to rehab? Outpatient treatment wasn't an option as there were also no rehabs in Belle Glade anyways.

I tried to find another job, but employment opportunities were one more thing that was lacking in the small sugar-farming town. I had thought that my dream had come true when I was rushed into this gorgeous apartment, but my dream quickly fell apart. It wasn't long before I decided that drinking alone wasn't good for my mental health and wandered out to meet my neighbors. That was when I realized why no one wanted to come to Belle Glade: it's a dangerous town. I was revictimized which caused a relapse into my PTSD symptoms.

Afraid for my life, I tossed a few items in my backpack and fled back to the streets of Boca Raton. I started having flashbacks, nightmares, numbed responses, and hyper-vigilance as a result of my housing experience. I refused to return to retrieve the rest of my belongings.

The Rapid Rehousing theory is that housing is the primary need and that if homeless people have a place to live, we'll have a better chance of getting jobs and staying sober. But in my case, this approach failed. I was put in a place I found unsafe, a rural community where I was unable to access jobs and substance abuse treatment.

However, I see the reasoning behind the approach. I've tried to go to twelve-step meetings while homeless only to be told by a former sponsor that she wouldn't

start me on the steps until I had a place to live because the twelve steps don't work for homeless people. Currently, I'm working with vocational rehabilitation for help finding a job. My counselor is concerned about my homelessness because “it's hard to keep a job while homeless.” She suggested that I seek housing through the Lord's Place in West Palm Beach.

I've been homeless on and off for 20 years. I agree that it's hard to hold down a job while living outside, but it can be done. I have a few friends who are doing it right now. I graduated college with honors while homeless. I was told I couldn't do that, but I did it.

As far as staying sober and mentally stable while homeless, the biggest barrier is judgment. It's hard to build a support system if few people are willing to support you in your sobriety because of where you sleep. It also doesn't help that our belongings — including our medicine — are often lost or stolen.

At the same time, I acknowledge that it definitely helps to have stability in your life. It's amazing what a good night's rest in a warm bed can do to make a person feel better physically and emotionally. I admit that it felt like a godsend to have a bed, shower, kitchen, and air conditioning. It just would've been nice if I had been able to keep it.

The other Housing First program is Permanent

Supportive Housing (PSH). Looking back, that would've been better for my situation. PSH provides longer term rental assistance and more support. The program is designed for people with physical or mental disabilities or chronic substance abuse issues.

I'm currently taking the advice of my vocational rehabilitation counselor and seeking PSH through the Path program at the Lord's Place. However, the housing is actually provided through Goodwill and clients must first go through the The Senator Philip D. Lewis Homeless Resource Center. It's a lot of hoops but may be worth it.

Overall, it sounds like an excellent program, but I have some concerns. Neither Housing First program requires clients to participate in substance abuse and mental health counseling, it's up to the client whether or not they want help with those issues.

My friend Russ was recently in the Lewis Center. He was told that if he got a job, they'd help him get an apartment. However, he's in his 60s and couldn't handle the job he got. As a result, he's back out on the streets.

“The shelter is worse than jail. There's security guards everywhere. They're constantly telling you what you can and can't do, and they're always waving that metal detector wand. Every time you go out to smoke, they wave that wand over your body,” he said.

I've never been in the Lewis Center, but I did go for an in-person assessment once and also remember the security guards with the wands. I felt like I was in the holding cell at the county jail.

I tried to find another job, but employment opportunities were one more thing that was lacking in the small sugarfarming town.

But the Lewis Center is only the first step in the Palm Beach County homeless system. After spending up to three months at the shelter, they try to place you in longer term housing through partnering agencies — if you have income. And that's where the PSH programs come into play.

Russ isn't the only person who told me that you need income in order to get housing assistance. Another friend of mine recently tried to get into a PSH program, but was told that she needed to get a job first. From my understanding, though, they'll work with people on Social Security.

Even though you need money to get transitional housing you don't need to be clean and sober. I visited a few friends in PSH years ago and most of the people who were living in the apartment complex were still getting high. One guy applauded Housing First because he could smoke crack and still keep his apartment.

According to Russ, that hasn't changed.

“They're helping the people who don't want to stop drinking. They don't even want to change and yet they're the ones who were getting the apartments,” he said.

Although there are one-bedroom PSH units, the waiting list is long to get into your own place. Most of the apartments are shared units and there's a possibility that my roommate may still be drinking and getting high. That wouldn't be good for me.

I'm a recovering addict who is currently attending twelve-step meetings to overcome drinking. If I go into a housing program where there's active substance abuse, my own recovery would likely go out the window. But at least I wouldn't be homeless!

That doesn't sound like a solution to me. I've lived outside for so long, I'd rather camp out and stay sober. Even though the Housing First model has a good track record of housing retention, it does absolutely nothing to address underlying causes of homelessness.

Public Spaces and Hidden How Hostile Architecture

Anti-homeless spikes and defensive transformsdesign urban landscapes, but at a cost to inclusivity and well-being.

Hidden Exclusions: Architecture Shapes Our Cities

Story and Photos by Mary Rasura

Public benches line sidewalks across the country, seemingly offering a place for anyone to rest. But hidden in their design are features that exclude.

Slanted surfaces that make lying down impossible, armrests that divide the space, or narrow widths that discourage extended use. These deliberate choices are a form of urban planning meant to discourage individuals from using public amenities, and disproportionately affects the homeless who spend the majority of their time in public spaces.

But hostile architecture, as these design choices are called, extends beyond benches.

Spikes on flat surfaces, jagged rocks under bridges, and the removal of public seating entirely are all measures used to make public spaces unwelcoming to people experiencing homelessness as well as anyone who wants to use them. These designs don’t address the causes of homelessness, they aim to make it less visible.

In April 2024, the city of Melbourne, Florida removed benches altogether from its downtown area, citing concerns about homeless loitering and trash accumulation. What once served as a public amenity became a flashpoint in the city’s ongoing struggle to balance aesthetics, public safety, and the needs of its most vulnerable residents.

“It’s been very positive,” Melbourne Main Street executive director Kim Agee told ClickOrlando.com. “Obviously, we want benches downtown. We want to have places for the community to be able to sit and relax and just visit one another, but that wasn’t happening.”

Agee maintained that local businesses and patrons

“Definitely, I am in total support of helping our homeless, but it has to be conducive, also, to our business owners.”
Middle bars on benches are meant to block people from lying on them.
Hostile architecture tactics besides bars in the middle of the bench including curving the bench to make it less comfortable for lying down.
“Hostile designs are designs against humanity.”

were happier with homeless residents out of sight.

“Definitely, I am in total support of helping our homeless, but it has to be conducive, also, to our business owners,” Agee added.

While Agee’s comments reflect a common rationale for removing such amenities, critics argue that actions like these exemplify how hostile architecture prioritizes appearances over inclusivity. By targeting behaviors deemed undesirable, such as sleeping or loitering, these design choices shift the focus away from addressing systemic issues like homelessness and poverty.

The Hidden Costs of Hostile Design

Fast forward to January, and the city of Melbourne is still debating their homelessness crisis.

The city is discussing a 120-unit permanent supportive housing community called Providence Place. During the January 14 Melbourne City Council meeting, local resident Mark Holshoe expressed concern that seniors walking in the downtown area no longer have places to rest because all the park benches were removed to prevent people from sleeping on them. He suggested that rather than the city remove benches all together, they install ones with dividers.

“I’m asking you, would you please put the benches back?” Holshoe said. “You can put a bar in between to avoid people sleeping on the benches, but our senior citizens cannot walk down there because they would like to have a place to sit and there ain’t none.”

The National Coalition for the Homeless (NHC) calls hostile architecture a “design against humanity,” noting in an August 2023 report that design choices such as slanted benches, rocky or uneven payment, and spiked window sills are deterrents for homeless people looking for places to sleep.

A Global Issue with Local Solutions

Hostile architecture isn’t confined to Melbourne or even the United States. Cities worldwide employ similar tactics.

As reported in Wired, a homeless encampment beneath a bridge in Paris was replaced with dozens of giant, Lego-like bricks during the 2024 Olympics. Advocates warn that similar measures could become more prevalent in cities as cities such as Los Angeles prepare for global events like the 2028 Olympics.

A Call for Inclusive Design

Advocates for change argue that public spaces should reflect the values of inclusivity and community. Stuart Semple, a British artist and founder of Hostiledesign. org, describes hostile architecture as a failure of empathy.

“Hostile designs are designs against humanity. They are made specifically to exclude, harm or otherwise hinder the freedom of a human being,” reads the homepage. “Quite often they aim to remove a certain section of a community from a public space.”

The NCH report concludes with recommendations for “inclusive design,” which it states the main objective is “to make spaces as barrier-free and convenient to use as possible.”

As cities like Melbourne, Los Angeles, and Paris continue to adopt hostile architecture, public spaces are increasingly shaped by policies that dictate who can use them and under what conditions, often at the expense of marginalized communities.

A bench by a bus stop in West Palm Beach with a middle bar to prevent anyone from lying on the bench.
Bars on the edge of benches are also intended on stopping skateboarders.

Florida's Camping Ban Four Months On

On October 1st 2024, Florida House Bill 1365 went into effect, prohibiting public camping. Homeless Floridians now face the possibility of being forced to leave public properties and risk fines or jail time if they refuse to do so.

But the new law isn't seeming to have that big of an impact on the local homeless population in Palm Beach County. Most of us have just found other places to sleep or have begun to seek homeless services.

My friend Rooster isn't worried about the new law and plans on staying outdoors until he eventually finds an affordable house. He has a camp set up behind a shopping plaza and pointed out to me that he's not violating the camping ban.

“The law says you can't sleep on public property. I'm not. This land is privately owned, so they can't mess with me over the new law,” he explained.

Many people, myself included, initially assumed that

“Where do they expect us to go? Back here in the woods where anyone can walk up on us while we're sleeping? That's not safe for a single woman.”

homeless people would no longer be allowed to sleep outdoors, but the key word in the new law is “public”. Basically, we just have to stay “out of sight and out of mind.” The law is just pushing homeless people out of public view and off government owned properties.

However, we do still risk being arrested, fined, or run off of private property. Even though we aren't violating the camping ban, in most cases, the cops could still mess with us for trespassing. In Palm Beach County, there are “no trespassing” signs placed everywhere, but it's been like that for as long as I can remember — that hasn’t changed.

Some homeless people have decided that they've had enough with street life and have begun to seek shelter.

My friend Sally originally moved to a tent in the woods when the camping ban was passed, but decided that she didn't feel safe in the woods alone being a woman.

“Where do they expect us to go?” she asked me. “Back here in the woods where anyone can walk up on us while we're sleeping? That's not safe for a single woman.”

An unfortunate twist of fate helped Sally get out of the woods. The winds from Hurricane Milton caused a large tree to fall on Sally's tent while she was in it. I found her trapped and called the cops for help. She was okay and somehow managed to fix her camp back up a few days later.

Turns out, she wasn't violating the new camping ban because she wasn't on public property. The cops never told her she had to move, but they were now aware of her situation and location. The homeless outreach team came out the following week to help Sally. She was more than willing to go to a shelter.

Maybe that's the whole point of the new camping ban: to motivate the homeless people to seek services. If we think we can't sleep without possibly waking up in handcuffs, we'd be more willing to go to a homeless shelter. But what are we supposed to do when the shelters are full and the cost of living is outrageous?

Heidi of Changing Lives of Boca thinks that the new camping ban is a good thing: “It'll make cities stop looking the other way at the homeless issue and start doing something to help people,” she told me over dinner.

However, there hasn't been much of an expansion in homeless services in Palm Beach County, and there's no mass campground, either.

Aside from a few new Senator Philip D. Lewis Homeless Resource Center locations and the county's attempt to purchase a LaQuinta motel for use as a shelter, the county hasn't done much more to help the homeless.

Instead, the focus seems to be on enforcement.

There are now signs placed in public parks informing the homeless that camping is prohibited and also an increase in security guards patrolling the public parks. They're basically telling us that we have fewer places to sleep, but not providing alternatives.

For the most part, the police haven't been messing with us. One friend of mine still sleeps in a shopping plaza every night and no one has said anything to him about it. He doesn't plan on staying there long, though. He has a job and his case manager is helping him with move-in costs for an apartment. He hopes to be off the streets soon.

I’ve noticed that the level of enforcement depends a lot on the jurisdiction. I heard that the cops are sweeping people up left and right in the east side of Boca Raton. However, they're not going back into the woods. They're only messing with the people who are sleeping out in the open.

I met one homeless guy who fell asleep at a bus stop and was awakened by police officers. He said they were understanding of his situation but informed him of the Florida camping ban and told him to sleep somewhere “out of sight.”

Some cops don't seem to know how to address or enforce the new camping ban. On the first night of the law going into effect, I actually asked two officers what I should do, and neither of them knew how to answer. The law is confusing.

For instance, shopping plazas are privately owned even though they're open to the public. Florida law classifies shopping plazas as quasi-public properties, but even though that's a gray area with regards to the camping ban, you can still be arrested for trespassing if you sleep in a plaza.

One homeless man who I spoke to brought up the good point that Florida is just trying to keep us off government-owned land. And he's right, public property is defined as something owned by a municipality, be it the city, town, county or state.

And if you read House Bill 1365, that's exactly what it says: “Unauthorized Public Camping and Public Sleeping: Prohibits counties & municipalities from authorizing or otherwise allowing public camping or sleeping on public property without certification of designated public property by DCF.”

We can still get a good night's rest, we just can't do it in certain places such as public parks, sidewalks, bus stops, and outside government owned buildings like the library. But there is an exception: We are still allowed to sleep in public if we own a licensed and registered vehicle and park it legally.

One man I spoke with found a creative way to get around the camping ban and the rising cost of living. He converted a minivan into a studio apartment. He has a futon couch, wooden floors, cabinets, and a two burner gas stove. He works every day and lives in, what he refers to as, his house on wheels.

“People are paying $2,000 per month to rent apartments. I saved up $1,500 to buy my van and remodeled it. Now I just pay $100 every month for my insurance, plus phone bill, food, and gas. I couldn't be any happier,” he told me.

He's an elderly man who works part time for minimum wage, so he's being realistic, not cheap. He said that no one has ever made him leave a parking lot because he knows how to be discreet. And he's not violating the camping ban because he lives in a legally parked and registered vehicle.

I have a lot of respect for him, but it doesn't seem fair for homeless people with cars to be allowed to sleep in public, but if we don't own a registered vehicle, we risk jail time or fines for sleeping in a public place.

As for me, I'm still camping out, but am getting tired of living in the woods. I've started looking into supportive housing programs and signed up with vocational rehabilitation for help finding a job. But it takes time to get off the streets. Right now, I'm stuck.

But I do have a voice, and so I've taken a proactive stance by writing to government officials and protesting the new law by holding a sign and starting an online petition. There's not much else I can do.

Unfortunately, many homeless people are in the same boat that I'm in. Even if we are willing to get jobs and seek shelter, it won't happen overnight. In the meantime, many of us are taking the chance of going to jail every time we lay down at night to go to sleep.

I personally believe that is indeed cruel and unusual.

Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.
Homeless Voice; Hostile Architecture by Homeless Voice - Issuu