A few years back when I was living in Portland, I saw an article about a church not far from where I was living that wanted to let a few homeless women and children sleep in their cars on the church property.  The church had seen the reality of how many people in Portland were sleeping on the street or in their cars, and they wanted to do something. Because that is what churches should be about.  And one way they wanted to help was by opening up their parking lot to a few people who were sleeping in their cars. Though not ideal (it wan’t actual housing, after all), it would be a start. They were also going to make sure those who stayed there had access to restrooms and garbage cans. All sounded good and simple.

And then some neighbors got wind of what was going on, and their complaints helped to shut down the project altogether. And one of their primary complaints was one of safety. Yes, you're are hearing that correctly. Because a church was going to let just a few women and children sleep in their cars in the parking lot, neighbors were worried about safety. For themselves. The most poignant and heartbreaking reality of all of this was in a statement by the church after the program was shut down:  "The amount of publicity generated by the situation created a hostile environment where the church could not be confident about the safety of the people in the car.”  Yes, you heard that right. The neighbors, out of a concern for “safety,” were so riled up, that the church was concerned for the safety of the women and children.  

I remember being so angry when I first heard this story. It is a perfect example of NIMBY-ism. The “ let’s help people, but how dare you try to help them in my vicinity” mentality. But the reality is that this way of seeing those in poverty who live on the streets or in their car is not limited to this one neighborhood, but has become a part of our cultural myths about those living on the streets.

I was reading an article this week, and this story of the church in Portland kept coming back up in my mind.  The article was simply titled, “Our fear of the homeless is killing the homeless.”  The main idea of the article was that there is a widespread culture of shaming the homeless in our country. From ridiculing people who live outside for engaging in life-sustaining activities, to building a culture of fear about those who live on the streets being dangerous, this narrative is carried along by the news and other powers that be. The reality is, however, that it is those who live outside who are actually unsafe. Those who live inside are actually the ones who are a threat to those who live outside, and not the other way around.

One of the most striking things cited in the article was that the idea that those who live outside are dangerous to people and property is just a myth. The realty is that, though homeless people are more likely to have a criminal record, there are actually less likely to commit a violent crime.

On the contrary, those who live outside are more likely to be on the receiving end of the violence of our system.  Here are a few of the statistics cited in this article:

• The mortality rate for those living outside is around 7 times great than it is for the general population
• Half of the women and children on the street ended up their because of domestic violence
• At least 2/3 of women on the street have been sexually assaulted (and that is likely a low estimate)
• Treatment for everything from addiction to HIV/AIDS is much harder to access when you live on the street
• The average life-expectancy for someone living on the street is between 40 and 50. The average for the general population is 78.

To live outside is to be perpetually unsafe. Those of us who live inside have many layers of safety surrounding us. We have doors to lock. We have neighborhoods who care about safety. We have security systems. We have healthcare, and cars to get us there. We have social networks of people that can help us.  To live outside is to lack most, if not all, of these things. 

Yet our fear of those who live outside contributes to their lack of safety. And part of that fear, I think, comes from the fact that such visible poverty is a reminder of how close poverty can be. To quote the article again:

Over the years of working in and around the streets of downtown Portland, I have talked to many folks who, for different reasons, find themselves living outside. I have listened to how many different people talk about their situation, and one of the resounding things I have heard is a sense of failure. Because we live in a culture that sees success in terms of power, money, and recognition, they see themselves as having failed at all of that. Since the "American Dream” (which in reality is more of the American Myth) says that hard work equals success (which usually means money and power), and their hard work did not, they see failure.*

I read a Facebook post today talking about the moralistic fallacy we make when we make we we equate what “ought” to be (that hard work will lead to financial stability) from what “is” (that in our context hard work in only one factor, whose influence is often small compared to, say, if your parents have money). How embedded this is in our society can be seen in so many ways. You can see it in dehumanizing system we force those in poverty to go through to get their meager benefits. We can see it in how we think we should have a say in what folks on food stamps do with their limited money.  And we can see it in the reality that those of us in the middle class and up actually see those in poverty and living on the streets as less than human.

The fact is, this myth needs to stop. It is hurting people. I am not saying I have all the answers, but if we can't recognize that our economic "success" is not just about how hard we work or how smart we are, we will continue to lose the imagination we need to ask better questions and find better solutions. And there will continue to be a larger and larger wall between those in poverty and those in the middle class, a wall that desperately needs to be broken down, because it is preventing the relationships and community that is vital to moving forward. 

I say all of this as a pastor, and I see relationship and community as central to anything we do in regards to those in poverty. But I think this goes beyond the faith community. Our whole society would be better if we stopped blaming the poor for their situation, and took the time to get to know them. If we truly listened to the complex situations and forces that led people to end up where they are.

How can we do this better? How can we begin to create a culture that sees success outside of money and power? How can we challenge these harmful myths that ignore things like class and privilege and put the blame solely on poor people? And how can begin to imagine, and create, communities where one’s economic situation is not a hinderance to being a participant in the life of the community?

We can do better. I know we can. Let's do it together.


*In case anyone wants to ask, yes, I occasionally met folks who were ok living outside. But it was a very small number. Most, by far, did not want to be there. Some had lost hope. Some did not know how there could get out of where they are. But very, very, very few were actually ok with living outside. This is another myth that needs to go away.