Minus 15 before daybreak on December 5th in Denver. At ten pm it’s minus 13, and with the wind chill we’re down to minus 31. Yesterday we had a high of 8 and a low of minus 8. It will be another four days before the low zooms up to zero.
With temperatures this frigid, it’s best to hunker down at home and go out as little as possible.
But wait! You don’t have a “home” like that. No warm inside place to call your own. “Home” for you tonight might be your car, behind a dumpster, under a bridge or bush, on a grate, riding the light rail, walking all night to stay warm, in detox, a shelter until daybreak if you can get in and tolerate that situation--and in the daytime, a number of community places of refuge that you scurry between, any place that will let you in, where you can keep yourself from succumbing to the elements (i.e., getting frostbite or hypothermia, or pneumonia if you didn’t have it already, and maybe losing some fingers or your leg or dying).
In the best of weather, not having your own place--where you can turn out the light and sleep through the night, store your stuff, lock the doors, stay warm or cool or dry, have privacy, be alone when you want or need to, lie on the couch and watch TV, go to the bathroom, take a shower, wash your clothes, drink a beer, keep your dog, make your own meals, have a life--it’s an incredibly hard road to travel, full of danger, struggle and heartache. During severe weather, you fight to stay alive.
One good thing that seems to happen when temperatures drop so low is that housed people are more apt to think about the plight of the unhoused. “Who’s outside tonight? Homeless people. That’s unacceptable. Find them and bring them in.”
In service of this goal the city, in conjunction with the homeless services providers, implements a “severe weather emergency plan” which is designed to help ensure unhoused people do not succumb to the elements during that time period. Outreach workers comb the area trying to bring the outside people inside, or to provide warm gear to those who don’t see shelters as a viable option. Extra shelter spaces are temporarily provided in kitchens, churches, and recreation centers, and buses are found to take people there. Motel vouchers flow more freely to women, families and others who are deemed most vulnerable when shelter spaces can’t be found. Day and overnight shelters stay open longer. (See page x for more details.)
But in fact severe weather periods merely amplify and underscore the ongoing social catastrophe which is in plain view every day. To put it bluntly, the inhumane and unjust ways in which our society as a whole treats unhoused poor people suggests a complete breakdown in the fabric of our society. The daily sight of hundreds of people--including children, the elderly, the disabled--struggling against enormous odds to survive and carry out necessary activities of daily living on the streets has become so commonplace--such a regular part of our day--that circumstances which any decent human being should reject and refuse to tolerate come to be viewed as acceptable, asthe new normal.
For example, every day we see people struggling with the burden of hauling their worldly possessions around in carts, on bikes or on their backs. At night we see folks huddled (in violation of the “urban camping ban”) under blankets or in sleeping bags, on grates, behind dumpsters, and in doorways. And we see long lines of people waiting to get into shelters, meals and clinics.
When we see the circumstances under which so many are struggling to survive, do we proclaim the situation to be utterly unacceptable, or do we accept it as the new normal, and get on with our day?
One thing we can count on--more cold weather is on the way. When it comes, we can count on many people and organizations throughout the city to pull together to help protect those on the streets. But the courage to speak out against the injustices and acts of inhumanity which we are witnessing, and the will to end homelessness by providing actual homes to people who need and deserve them no matter what the weather--can we count on that?
N---
With temperatures this frigid, it’s best to hunker down at home and go out as little as possible.
But wait! You don’t have a “home” like that. No warm inside place to call your own. “Home” for you tonight might be your car, behind a dumpster, under a bridge or bush, on a grate, riding the light rail, walking all night to stay warm, in detox, a shelter until daybreak if you can get in and tolerate that situation--and in the daytime, a number of community places of refuge that you scurry between, any place that will let you in, where you can keep yourself from succumbing to the elements (i.e., getting frostbite or hypothermia, or pneumonia if you didn’t have it already, and maybe losing some fingers or your leg or dying).
In the best of weather, not having your own place--where you can turn out the light and sleep through the night, store your stuff, lock the doors, stay warm or cool or dry, have privacy, be alone when you want or need to, lie on the couch and watch TV, go to the bathroom, take a shower, wash your clothes, drink a beer, keep your dog, make your own meals, have a life--it’s an incredibly hard road to travel, full of danger, struggle and heartache. During severe weather, you fight to stay alive.
One good thing that seems to happen when temperatures drop so low is that housed people are more apt to think about the plight of the unhoused. “Who’s outside tonight? Homeless people. That’s unacceptable. Find them and bring them in.”
In service of this goal the city, in conjunction with the homeless services providers, implements a “severe weather emergency plan” which is designed to help ensure unhoused people do not succumb to the elements during that time period. Outreach workers comb the area trying to bring the outside people inside, or to provide warm gear to those who don’t see shelters as a viable option. Extra shelter spaces are temporarily provided in kitchens, churches, and recreation centers, and buses are found to take people there. Motel vouchers flow more freely to women, families and others who are deemed most vulnerable when shelter spaces can’t be found. Day and overnight shelters stay open longer. (See page x for more details.)
But in fact severe weather periods merely amplify and underscore the ongoing social catastrophe which is in plain view every day. To put it bluntly, the inhumane and unjust ways in which our society as a whole treats unhoused poor people suggests a complete breakdown in the fabric of our society. The daily sight of hundreds of people--including children, the elderly, the disabled--struggling against enormous odds to survive and carry out necessary activities of daily living on the streets has become so commonplace--such a regular part of our day--that circumstances which any decent human being should reject and refuse to tolerate come to be viewed as acceptable, asthe new normal.
For example, every day we see people struggling with the burden of hauling their worldly possessions around in carts, on bikes or on their backs. At night we see folks huddled (in violation of the “urban camping ban”) under blankets or in sleeping bags, on grates, behind dumpsters, and in doorways. And we see long lines of people waiting to get into shelters, meals and clinics.
When we see the circumstances under which so many are struggling to survive, do we proclaim the situation to be utterly unacceptable, or do we accept it as the new normal, and get on with our day?
One thing we can count on--more cold weather is on the way. When it comes, we can count on many people and organizations throughout the city to pull together to help protect those on the streets. But the courage to speak out against the injustices and acts of inhumanity which we are witnessing, and the will to end homelessness by providing actual homes to people who need and deserve them no matter what the weather--can we count on that?
N---