Work Text:
Displaced, unhoused, vagrant, transient derelict, vagabond.
All of these words describe my current predicament as ~I~ am homeless.
Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs states that in order to even attempt to be in a position for self-advocacy, shelter is a fundamental piece to existing. Not only this, the UN also advocates for the affirmation of this resolution. Truthfully, if you are against this resolution, you are advocating for the manslaughter of dozens of people every day due to greed and selfishness. For more context from the DOJ, up to 50% of homeless people will end up in jail due to lack of access for simply trying to exist. Additionally, the Bureau of Justice Statistics also indicates rates of recidivism is at about 25% nationally. Next time you walk past a person asking for money on the streets, it might very well be one of your coaches, judges, or peers.
I grew up, initially fairly upper-middle class in the most stereotypical 2.5 (we had a cat) kid suburban Christian family. After a messy divorce from my father's abandonment, my mother's addiction to opioids, my fate was sealed by the 2008 Housing Crisis where I was briefly homeless and on SNAP in high school where I still managed to compete on the state and national level despite not even knowing what a brief, flow, or K was. This was back when NSDA was known NFL, computers weren't allowed in round, and PF was JUST becoming available on the Richmond "circuit"- we only had 4 people on my HS team and we were the guinea pigs.
It has been amazing to see how far RVA has come and be a part of the process to make debate accessible.
In college, I was put into a similar position again as the new, now, "adult" guinea pig for BP with CFA and would eventually become the co-coach at the University of Richmond and receive the honor of being Judge of the Year in 2019 while being with my then partner of 6-years.
Then I was raped.
After being sexually assaulted for the SECOND time, I broke things off with my ex due to the guilt of, what I thought was, cheating when in actuality I was groomed by a person who now works at Meta. Additionally, I discovered I had undiagnosed and untreated autism/ADHD that made me a prime candidate to be abused given my history with my family. Think "Westboro Baptist Church Lite" where I was not allowed to read/play Harry Potter/Pokémon/Power Rangers, etc., believed Reagan was effectively a prophet, was a Creationist (Earth is only 20,000 years old), thought all gays go to hell, Muslims were evil, the gambit.
Oh, and I have since come out as queer and align with agnostic paganism which has put tremendous additional strain on my relationship with my family. My mother thinks I'm possessed, my sister, after asking for help when I was in a car accident that fractured two of my vertebrae, told me to "jump off a f[l]ucking bridge" (which is how my father attempted and failed) , and my father tried to throw me in jail after confronting him and inadvertently breaking his leg in self-defense when he assaulted me.
The kicker? I lost my phone in the scuffle because he destroyed it meaning I had no proof of the event thus resulting in a guilty sentence due to the pity of him being paraplegic.
I now have a series of court dates ranging from uncovering tax fraud (on multiple accounts- some of which are from my mother!), suing RPD for neglect and abuse of power (know your Miranda Rights!), various PPOs, trespassing (largely from the homelessness), and, the real kicker, a potential charge for my own attempted suicide. To emphasize this point, you are liable to be charged and potentially thrown in jail if you screw up your OWN suicide.
I am staunchly in the "right to die" camp for all these reasons and envy Canadians for having MAID due to how horrific existence can be.
To solidify how nightmarish things have become, I was forced out of my job for "budget reallocation" and was accused of squatting because I had to sleep in my office one night due to an abusive housing situation (that was the eviction case I won), became a legal guardian for my father during college due to his own attempted suicide and grappling with the reality of his desire for euthanasia which I principally supported and still advocate for, dealt with tending to my alcoholic sister who was in an Domestic Violence situation, and trying to figure out how to graduate college on time with a disability I couldn't afford to diagnose because, while I was under 27, I was trapped in my relationship due to my ex making six-figures.
As you can see, I didn't just end up here and I am in a huge mess that was largely not my fault.
I went from being in a position with my dream job, amazing support network, well-traveled, educated, and liked in the community to becoming a social pariah where I'm consistently told to "just keep going" because "it will get better".
Things have actually gotten much worse.
COVID was the opportunity for us to protect people with the stimulus package and moratoriums which have now largely expired thus resulting in an uptick of those without access to basic care.
Even though rapid rehousing has modest success, it still is only a band aid on the general problem as I have found that almost every homeless person ends up in a vicious cycle of poverty.
In the past eight months, I have been in and out of the hospital four times, jail three times, evicted twice, mugged monthly, resorted to selling my body so I can eat, and lost almost all of my possessions.
It has become my reality that even with "beating the odds" through academic merit in a near full-ride at a prestigious institution cannot trump the simple fact of growing up poor.
Because guess what happens when you play by the rules?
You are still subjected to scrutiny from FAFSA even if you've been financially independent since 17 because you didn't realize emancipation is the only way you are not forced to fill out your parent's financial aid form. You don't get to have a "pass" from the financial aid office just because your mother didn't file taxes and pocketed the money from alimony and child support subsisting off of applesauce and crackers for school lunch. You are told that your poor writing was because of a learning disability and not because you're starving and sleep deprived. You are constantly reminded that college is your ONLY saving grace as you are forced to stay on campus for the holidays because you don't have a home to go to. You can't get mad at your friends who complain about how terrible d-hall is when you're just happy to have access to GOOD, HEALTHY food that isn't just under seasoned pasta and boiled brussels sprouts pretty much whenever for the first time in your life.
You buy into the notion of Protestant Work Ethic and think that if you just "try hard enough" you can manage to get a degree that will make you more viable for a job market that privileges STEM majors. Your advisor flat out tells you that if you don't drop your Music and German minors and just do a BS in Math and Physics, you're "wasting your degree". You force yourself to not complain and try to make everyone happy because "at least you have housing and food now" and sit on the panic of what life after graduating will look like if when you're a Humanities major. You become trapped in a relationship as a 19-year-old because the 32-year-old is the only person who cares enough to house you and care about you as a person.
So, you play by the rules until you attempt suicide when the only thing that pulls you out is the promise of going abroad while you try to find joy in your college choir that you almost quit because your advisor told you to.
You realize that once you grapple with the existential dread by leaning into Philosophy because of your First Year Seminar as a means of education, that rules are made for those in power and the best tool you have is your ability to think critically.
You go to Germany where you are allotted a livable income ON TOP of your studies and food being accounted for. You see a society that values the sanctity of life as you share stories with a Syrian woman who you share kinship by coming out to each other. You take advantage of affordable transit and travel the world and are exposed to communities that you never knew existed because of all the fear mongering of religion. Your hostels will be the cheapest housing you will ever experience. You get to have your own space to call your own and learn that it isn't normal for people to hoard and that being forced to wash the dishes, mow the lawn, and tend to car maintenance for an allowance of DOLLARS a week because you're the "designated male of the house" is a really warped way of living. You are the first in your family to graduate college and end up working your dream job.
You recover and heal and love and find joy despite being chronically depressed and having your partner console you constantly that you're worthy of basic human rights.
You worry that you're being a mooch and realize that you are at the mercy of your partner paying rent while they entice you with lavish vacations. You become haunted by the sight of POC wearing a cheery grin as they serve you food on a cruise that is full of entitled Americans.
You hate the game you've been forced to play and in turn, hate yourself for feeding into the capitalist hellscape you've escaped from and stifle your anger because "it beats being homeless".
You resolve to finally "make it on your own" because you loathe being told that your outfit, despite being in a relationship with a man as a man during WORLD PRIDE, is "too gay". You go back on your vow to never live in a suburban home because you hate the idea of lawns and treating property like an asset and not a basic necessity. You watch Call Me By Your Name and appreciate the nuance of the queer experience and see the regret in the eyes of actors who portray a universal heartbreak that makes you question, well, everything.
You plan, with your then best friend, that you both need a plan to escape while knowing that behind the door of "freedom" is just another room filled with the expectation of toiling without question. You start to resent your family for forcing you to "be a man" all the time and call them out on behavior they see as perfectly acceptable because of the "biblical roots" or justifying it as "that's just how they are".
You fall in love with a stranger who preyed on your vulnerability and pushed your boundaries because of "sexual liberation" because they agreed that jealousy and monogamy don't make sense and it's possible to have multiple soul mates.
You start wearing dresses and "inspiring" others to live their authentic selves because, while you suffered, at least you're free.
Except you're not.
You're constantly worried about being evicted because your job exploits you because you don't have the "right" degree and that you should be grateful for the exceptions they've already given you.
You finally start therapy because you've left your toxic situationships that refuse to acknowledge there is problem and they can "see the therapist in their head". Your health starts to fail because you're not taking care of yourself and discover the "stress hernias" you had are actually an untreated STI because you naively believed the person loved and your supposed best friend wasn't a liar.
You internalize that the rules are made up and no one really wins as you sit in a stairwell, on Halloween, pretending that it wasn't the fourth year anniversary of your rape and that it wasn't EIGHTY FOUR degrees yesterday.
You struggle with the fact that while you personally think utilitarianism is a garbage philosophy, the world runs on the promise of "progress" under the guise of "happiness" and you can't change that so you're forced to still conform. You embrace that you are only tolerable to be around for a few days at a time because then your depression manifests into outbursts of tears and frustration as you can't figure out how to fix your brain chemistry.
And then you remember, this all happened because you lost your home.
You moved to NC where you taught at one of the most prestigious institutions in the debate world where you're forced to work 60-70 hour weeks. You know no one and are living on your own.
At this point your relationships are strained but you, quite literally, make Safety Plans "A" through "F" given that you have at least a dozen friends you still trust.
You burn out and become enraged when you uncover the WOC on staff are getting underpaid and there is an initiative to fund one of the campus cook's and their child for a meager $600.
You talk to HR thinking there is a way to manage the pay disparity given the budget allotment you've been tracking because you can do basic math and start asking around and advocating for unions.
You attempt to provide a (well researched and cited) PowerPoint that even allocates some of your own income to the worker and her kid because you know what it's like to live in squalor despite being in a prestigious institution.
You hide the fact that you've attempted suicide twice and am given ONE day off because they "don't have mental health days".
You quit your job and are forced to move back to a city where your rapist and abusive family lives.
Your best friend's mother kills herself and your bestie becomes the exact person you despise- a landlord to not one but TWO houses while you struggle to find a place on a month's notice without a job.
You warn them of the CURRENT housing crisis and the note the patterns presenting themselves in a similar fashion to a life you've already lived 15 years ago.
They ignore you and align themself with their Republican friends who are all married and have a boat, houses, and think Las Vegas is actually a good city because of the glitz and glamor and it being the promise of American Dream realized.
You visit Vegas and see the facade for what it is as you share a blunt with a person who rode the bus from LA to meet a girl while his kid is left behind and tell him to tell his kid he loves him where you both end up crying together because of how sad the state of the world is.
Your heart breaks as you see how fragile everything is and try to be the outspoken leftist that you're proud of becoming.
You move in with a "friend" who ends up dating an abusive person that bullies you in your own home and blames you for the cat your roommate adopted having a litter under your bed after said roommate, very illegally, changes the locks.
Your landlord refuses to address the cracks in the foundation or the growing mold and that "rent is cheap so it's not worth looking into".
You don't qualify for EBT because your roommate is an engineer and makes TRIPLE what you do.
Your roommate is a functional alcoholic who is not out to his family despite constantly attempting to make romantic moves and the promise that we would be "just friends".
You stick to your principles and end up taking them to court, win, but end up ostracized from your friends because you're constantly on edge from anxiety and being bombarded with the continuation of life.
You are homeless for months until you can find a new place while recovering from a car accident that leaves you with two fractured vertebrae.
You start to accrue debt because you are drained from existing that work becomes nearly impossible.
You move in with a different friend who you uncover, and freely admits to, not washing their hands as you observe how disgusting the bathroom is (the toilet brush was just... sitting in the shower) and that they've been talking about you behind your back in Spanish.
You attempt to fend off an eviction due to it, allegedly, being a property from Habitat for Humanity only to discover your Ivy League immigrant roommate is actually a grifter who is living in a home designed for low-income families.
You are homeless... again, but at least you have a decent handle on things and know how to manage things by camping out at d-hall, utilizing the gym, and attempting to camp outside because you fear being accused of squatting at your place of work due to the PRIOR eviction.
People start to notice and report you to the campus police and other services where they send you a handful of resources you've ALREADY used and flat out reject any potential for a raise in hours despite the TWENTY-FIVE MILLION DOLLAR ENDOWMENT that is supposedly being funneled into your own program.
You think it will work out because all of your hard work has netted you a position to teach in China only to uncover the incompetency of the person heading the company who forgets to add a, STAMP, to your visa documents.
You are now effectively enemies with the Legal Aid office because they refuse to help you in your initial eviction case and when you keep coming back with problems, they dismiss you because "you clearly can handle it on your own".
You are served a sketchy trespassing notice and a forced resignation from your job after HR comes in to discuss some "concerns" about taking a reem of printer paper for the debate and it "imposing on other departments".
You finally relay how awful things have been and relay how financially vulnerable you are.
They laugh at your request for assistance and do nothing to follow-up with the sexual assault report you finally submitted because you didn't want to send a person you loved to jail because of how horrific the judicial system is.
You end up trespassing on the capital square trying to find a decent place to sleep and panic when confronted by the cops due to a previous instance of them driving away from you despite asking for help.
You are released because this is your first offense and keep your cool because of the medication you've been prescribed.
Your psychiatrist then worries about you potentially being hypomanic because of this "newfound erratic behavior" and takes you off of anti-depressant medication.
/s Shockingly, you attempt suicide again and are hospitalized two times because your friends have all started to cut you off because, frankly, you're miserable to be around and constantly angry at the corruption with no real sense of hope as you're reminded by your lawyers "the law is f[l]ucked up" and you should "just take care of yourself".
You're served a CABIUS because the clerks at the court office think you're a menace and don't pass along the note you left that you were going to admit yourself to the hospital.
You're thrown in jail again.
You witness the cops actively involved with the prisoners smoking pot in their cells and are proselytized nightly. You correct the officer's interpretation of "James 3" when noting that everyone has two ears and one mouth and that's why we should be better listeners instead of acting like we can know what the gospel says through blind teaching.
I'm thrown into solitary confinement with a broken food after an officer rough-housed you and not given my medication where I have a schizophrenic breakdown that now leaves you with permanent scars from biting yourself out of self-harm.
You wish every day you would die as you think of Will Smith in 7 Pounds because the nicest person to you in jail is stuck in there until 2050 but thinks Jesus saved them. They are a trans woman in the men's jail (you dare not disclose your gender identity for fear of retaliation) and were booked for sexual assault.
You think about them every day and send them money because of their kindness and reaffirm that people can change and be good despite terrible circumstance and resolve to try and work with community planning events in the jail because you now have formally understood ALL the arguments you've been touting years prior and that prison reform is the only way you're going to survive.
You find another psychiatrist who puts you BACK on the same drugs you were taken off of paired with an anxiety medication that finally helps you "normal" for the first time in years.
You swallow your pride and ask your parents for money and your father sends you $20 with a screenshot of his checking account that is $17,000 with the caption "this is love gift".
You attempt once again because at this point, you've defaulted on your credit cards and can no longer afford food because you don't have a permanent address to send your EBT card.
You are living out of a duffle bag and have to navigate paying for things via Venmo and Apple Pay because your bank account has been closed.
You can't even access your funds on OF because it requires routing information.
You are arrested and lose your ID, phone, and computer in the process because your attempt was at your rapist's house because of how hopeless you are.
You disclose the assault and for the first time in three years, an officer believes you and says they will file a report and says he won't hospitalize you if you have an address to go to.
You have hope, briefly, as you cycle through your dwindling list of friends- all but two of which are out of state and can do next to nothing to help.
You can't move because you don't have an ID and will lose your insurance and EBT benefits.
You're forced to stay in the city because of public transit, the two friends you have live in suburban food deserts, and also indicate they're getting empathy fatigue just like everyone else who has managed to keep you alive despite your own wishes.
You have a month until your next trial and struggle to find employment because of the record you now have.
You keep applying and get rejected for housing because your credit went from a 757 to a 504 and the waitlist is now 6 months.
You sleep in stairwells to avoid the cold weather that is quickly descending and become familiar with the other homeless people you see begging.
People keep asking you what you need, only to be met with a sad expression and agreement that life sucks.
You envy your growing list of friends who all have the means to kill themselves.
You post something in your high school reunion hoping someone takes initiative to honor your two classmates who killed themselves with no response.
You take it upon yourself to reach out to the mother of one of the kids who has her own suicide prevention foundation only to be met with "I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do".
So, yes, housing is a human right and I hope to become a martyr since clearly people only care when given a purity test.