Hidden Homeless

Hidden Homeless
At a recent homelessness-awareness event, I chatted with a reporter about some of the realities of homelessness. As we spoke of the positive steps that have been taken recently to decrease homelessness and provide housing and services, a woman casually circulating the crowd drew closer. The conversation turned to the realities of homelessness, when she interjected, “I live in my car, and I have for a few years.”

In the brief pause that followed this astonishing claim, I noted that she could have been from any of the downtown business towers around us. She was about my age, comfortably well dressed, and well groomed. She had a volunteer badge identifying her with one of the homeless action groups in Vancouver.

Invited to share her story, although waiting until we were alone, she didn’t go into a lot of detail, but explained, “Late in the evening I go to a parking lot that I know is safe and well lit, lock my doors and sleep for the night.” She added, “a lot of mornings I wake up to see other cars parked nearby, but separately, all with women in them sleeping. We don’t socialize, we’re just looking for someplace safe to be.” When asked, “yes, sometimes there are kids.”

We didn’t have the opportunity to talk further about her life, although I took comfort in her affiliation and relationship with a recognized organization. But I’ve wondered about her life since then. About the realities of a life that is influenced by weather conditions. Of daily routines that don’t include the ready convenience of a nearby bathroom or washing facilities.

I was very much affected by her story. She is homeless in a place that is characterized by caring people who want to help, by organizations that exist to help, by systems that are adapting to help. I hope that the next time I see her she is safely housed.