Homelessness Revisited

Peter McVerry, SJ

Issue 388, vol.97, Winter 2008

Beginnings
The Peter McVerry Trust (formerly the Arrupe Society) was set up in 1983 in response to the problem of youth homelessness that was emerging at that time. The number of young homeless people was very small at that time and, as a consequence, services were almost non-existent. When I proposed opening a hostel for six homeless children in the late 1970s, when I was still working in Summerhill in Dublin’s Inner City, the Health Board told me, in very clear terms, that they did not see the need for the hostel; they did not want to be involved in the hostel, but they had been told by the then Minister for Health (Charles Haughey) to get it up and running. Not that Charlie Haughey saw the need either! His motivation was very different. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the Inner City was beginning to explode – a spate of joyriding and handbag snatching made headlines in the newspapers on an almost daily basis. In response, the Government opened Loughan House, in Co. Cavan, as a juvenile detention centre for inner city kids. It was to be staffed by prison officers with two weeks child care training! While the public was delighted, all the child care agencies were united in condemnation: is this the Government’s only response to inner city deprivation? Three inner city youth projects had been proposed to the Minister for Health - an educational project, a recreational project and our project for an inner city hostel – and were lying, probably unread, on his desk. In the light of the criticism, they were dusted off, and handed to the Health Board with instructions to get them up and running as fast as possible. Hence, what was to become a lifetime work for me began by accident.

Homelessness and Drugs
The problem of homelessness back in the 1970s and 1980s was a relatively simple problem: young people from dysfunctional families needed somewhere to live. Some were involved in crime (sometimes serious crime), but they were pretty normal young people for whom crime was a learnt pattern of behaviour in a neighbourhood where there was little opportunity for employment or earning money. However, in the late 1980s, and more particularly in the 1990s, drugs became the dominant issue for the communities from which homeless young people came. More and more of the young people seeking accommodation also had a heroin addiction. Services for drug users were virtually non-existent. It was only when ecstasy became a favourite drug for middle-class young people, and the media began to highlight those who died from ecstasy, and their parents began to ask what help was available, that drug services were developed. Poor people had been dying from heroin for years, but that did not warrant any political action! Even today, only 28 residential detox beds exist in the whole country for an estimated 15,000 heroin users – and we provide 7 of them with almost no State support!

Homelessness and Mental Health
The other issue that came to complicate the lives of young homeless people was mental health problems. Life today, in general, is more stressful than in previous decades – it is more competitive, the pressure to succeed (as defined by society in terms of high income and status) is much greater; on homeless people, life imposes many additional stresses. Some people became homeless because their families were unable to cope with the behaviour that their mental health problems created; being homeless then intensified their mental health problem. Others developed mental health problems from long periods on the streets. Young people with schizophrenia, depression, ADHD, suicidal behaviour became resident in our hostels.

So our work had to develop responses to these issues in young homeless peoples’ lives. We opened a residential drug detox centre in 2000. Demand is huge and the programme has been very successful. An extensive horticultural project has developed on the six acres of land that surround the house and the involvement of drug users in growing their own food, minding the chickens and caring for the flowers and plants has been very beneficial. Returning to nature is very therapeutic for people who have lived a very artificial life for years. However, detoxing homeless people is of little value if they subsequently return to the streets or to hostels where drugs are in their face. So we subsequently opened two residential aftercare houses, where young homeless people can live for a period of rehabilitation after they complete the detox.

A further problem has developed in recent years. After the drug problem escalated in Dublin in the early 1990s, most drug users had a single drug of choice, usually heroin. In the last few years, many drug users are now “poly drug users”, meaning they are using a cocktail of drugs. Some of those we work with are using heroin, cocaine, cannabis, tablets, alcohol and maybe other drugs, all at the same time. It is not possible, indeed not safe, to detox from this mixture of drugs. So we have opened a day programme, the “stabilisation” programme, where, five days a week, over twelve weeks, drug users can pursue a programme aimed at stabilising their drug use. The programme involves counselling, group therapy and personal development exercises which seek to give drug users the motivation, confidence and support to take control of their drug use. At the end of the twelve weeks, they are still using drugs! But their drug use has reduced. Some may then decide to go on the detox centre. As some of those on this programme may be sleeping rough, which makes it very difficult to move forward in their lives, we are hoping to open a residential centre where they can live while doing the programme. The security and support available to them through having somewhere to live will, hopefully, enable them to make greater progress more quickly.

The other issue that has emerged very strongly in recent years, as already mentioned, is the problem of mental health. Several years ago, we began to purchase, with Government support, some “scatter” apartments where homeless people, who may never live independently because of mental health issues, can live with support from our team. These “scatter” apartments are, as their name implies, scattered all over Dublin: we purchase one or two apartments in a block of apartments and so the young homeless people who live there are not defined by any labels; they are just as anonymous as any other residents of the apartment block. To all appearances, we are just investors who are letting out an apartment to a tenant. A large number of people in prison are people with mental health problems who get arrested, again and again, for minor, public order offences. Undoubtedly, some of the young people living with us would also be in and out of prison if they did not have the stability of somewhere to live and the support they require.

Homeless people leaving prison
Another issue that has been growing is the problem of people leaving prison who are homeless. One young man was released at 9am on a Friday morning, with five euro in his pocket. He had to get two buses up to the Homeless Person’s Unit to request accommodation and some money to get him through the weekend. Unfortunately, the prison had forgotten to give him a discharge note, confirming that he had just been released. The Homeless Persons’ Unit was unable to do anything for him, until he had confirmation from the prison. So he had to get two buses back to the prison. When he got there, the prison officers were at lunch. He waited till 2.30 to get his discharge note. He got two buses back to the Homeless Persons’ Unit. By the time he arrived, it was closed. It was a bank holiday weekend and there were no services open until Tuesday. All his money had gone on bus fares: he was penniless and homeless. By Tuesday, he was back in prison, on remand for theft.

Some homeless people prefer prison to the streets. In prison, they have security, food and shelter. On the streets, they have only stress, hunger and nowhere to sleep. Not surprisingly, many people who are homeless on release from prison find themselves back in prison within a short time. A new project has been opened to cater for those leaving prison who are homeless. Since 2004, thirty-nine people have been accommodated, and supported, in ten “scatter” flats around Dublin, none of whom have returned to prison. Six went on to third level education, fifteen were helped to find jobs, one set up his own business and fourteen are still resident. Of particular concern are those who had been imprisoned for sex offences. Such prisoners often find it impossible to get accommodation, as their families may want nothing to do with them, particularly if the offence had taken place within the family, and the community from which they came may object to their return. Nor can they go into homeless hostels, because other homeless people, who would be aware of their offence, would attack them. They are, therefore, in a very vulnerable and difficult situation, which may trigger a repeat offence.

The Changed Face of Homelessness
So, over the thirty or so years that I have been working with homeless people, the nature of the problem has changed dramatically. Back in the 1970s, most homeless people were middle-aged men, some of whom had worked in England all their lives and returned to Ireland when the work dried up. But they had lost all contact with their families, knew nobody here in Ireland, and lived, often quite happily, in hostels around the country. Many had an alcohol problem, but it was their problem more than society’s problem. The hostel became their home; they made friends with staff and other residents and were often known as “knights of the road”. Others had been discharged from the Army, or released from long prison sentences and were institutionalised – again, the hostel became a secure, supported place to live.

However, in the 1980s and 1990s, more and more young people became homeless, many with a drink or drugs problem. They could sometimes be very intimidating and aggressive. The older men moved out of the hostels and lost their security and supports: many ended up in prison. The new younger homeless people were much more difficult to work with and much more damaged. Hostel accommodation was limited, often unavailable and many slept on the streets: that made them even more difficult and damaged. Simply providing accommodation for such homeless people was no longer enough – their other problems also had to be addressed. The problem was – and still is – that the services to meet those other problems are hopelessly inadequate. The greater the problem they present, the more inadequate the services. Not only are addiction services inadequate for the numbers who require them, but the mental health services for people who are homeless, or just poor, are a disaster. Those homeless people with both an addiction problem and a mental health problem are in a particularly hopeless situation.

Homeless Children
In the 1970s, there were very few children on the streets. Those who could not live at home went to live with their granny, or married sister, who lived close by. Or maybe a neighbour whom they knew very well looked after them, fed them and let them sleep on their sofa. However, as Dublin expanded, the extended family became more scattered, and as the sense of community disintegrated, neighbours became less trusting. So children who left home had to rely, more and more, on the State – and its services for homeless children were hopeless. In the 1980s and early 1990s, over 1,000 children each year were presenting as homeless. While almost all homeless children in the 1980s were boys, by the mid 1990s, 50% of homeless children were girls. The State response to homeless children was reflected in the fact that, although the Child Care Act (which sought to provide protection for children and regulate services for children) was passed by the Dáil in 1991, most of the provisions of the Act (namely those that cost money to implement!) were not signed into law until 1995! By 1990, we had four hostels up and running, catering for young homeless males from 12 up to 30. After the Child Care Act came into force, three of our hostels became hostels for boys up to 18 years of age, and the fourth became a hostel for young male adults. All the services we opened since 1990 have catered for both male and female homeless people.

Plans to eliminate homelessness by 2010
The Government has produced a plan that envisages eliminating long-term homelessness by 2010. Unfortunately, the plan is strong on vision but weak on action. Eliminating long-term homelessness (there will always be some short-term homelessness, while a newly-homeless person’s needs are assessed and suitable accommodation and support put in place) involves providing permanent accommodation for those who are homeless. While Dublin City Council has a very good track record for accommodating people who are homeless, most local authorities are very reluctant to do so, particularly where there are addiction, mental health or behaviour problems involved. Indeed local authorities are more likely to evict such people than accommodate them!  Furthermore, because of the shortage of local authority accommodation, single homeless people (75% of homeless people are single or separated) are often passed over, understandably, in favour of homeless people with children. Private rented accommodation is the most common exit out of homelessness for many, but again, no landlord is going to accommodate homeless people with problems. Voluntary housing associations also provide long-term accommodation for people with special needs, but they are not adequately resourced to allow them to staff and properly supervise homeless people with addiction or other problems.

Hence, while welcoming the promise to eliminate long-term homelessness by 2010, I remain unconvinced that it will happen. In the current, dire, economic situation the possibility of resources being made available to increase the accommodation options for homeless people is remote. Eliminating long-term homelessness will almost certainly become the latest in a list of broken promises.

Peter McVerry, S.J. has been working for the poor of Dublin since the 1970s.