On Housing Insecurity
I am no stranger to the experience of homelessness.
I experienced housing insecurity as a child growing up in a low-income family. There were many times a realty sign appeared in my front yard and I was struck with the fear of having to leave my school and friends.
My mother spent years of her adulthood in and out of homelessness. She is smart and resourceful, and was able to gather enough kindness from others to get by, but getting by often just delayed the inevitable next crisis.
The Crisis Mindset
Claudia Gonzalez George is interviewed in 2021.
One of the conversations that hit home the most with me while filming interviews about Hillcrest Village’s planning back in 2021 was about the crisis mindset. I talked with Claudia Gonzalez George, who at the time was a social worker serving neighbors in crisis at the Community Action Center, the organization that planned the Hillcrest Village neighborhood.
She spoke of the problematic nature of emergency housing provided by the state. Its key flaw was its temporality — it provided a short-term solution to its tenants. A deadline may initially seem reasonable. There is a limit to generosity of taxpayers. There is a high need and a requirement to make room for the next person in need. To me, it also seems like an opportunity to have boundaries. “You’ve got 90 days to get your shit together and back in action.”
Fight or Flight
But getting one’s shit together in a traumatic crisis is, in my opinion, impossible.
As a person living with anxiety, I often experience “spiraling” when I am dealing with a particularly stressful time (for the record, I do not experience true crises very often, but my disorder makes it feel like I do). My brain is stuck in fight or flight, and all of my strategic reasoning goes out the window. I become responsive to the first thing I see or am flat out unable to take any action as I am stuck in calculating what the best next action could be. The only way to break the cycle is to calm myself down so I can change my thought patterns, and when I’m stuck in that mode, that seems like a ludicrous idea. How can I possibly take a break during an emergency?
As I talked to Claudia, she described something very similar while observing her clients experiencing a housing crisis. A 90-day window of housing is a wonderful gift, but it doesn’t stop that fight or flight crisis mindset. Now there is a looming deadline of another emergency not very far down the road. To stay functional, I imagine one would focus on the day to day, meeting immediate needs. But when you are faced with having nowhere to go, would you be able to take on the bigger problems?
The Bigger Problems
A few months ago, I went to a wonderful talk on women in architecture. It was a retrospective celebrating some of the first women architects to graduate from the University of Minnesota in the 1950s. I could write all day about this experience, but for now I will focus on a story one of the speakers shared about affordable housing. She was working with a city on a plan to develop a neighborhood, and the mayor of that city was getting a lot of pushback from neighbors on the development. Neighbors were worried about safety and optics of having formerly unhoused individuals near their own homes. The mayor of the community shut down the remarks by offering the following wisdom: “We are all just one bad circumstance, one layoff or one illness, away from homelessness.” Those powerful words quieted the naysayers.
Bad circumstances that could lead to homelessness are all very possible in our lives. The layoff scenario certainly rings true today as our economy is experiencing shifts. An illness diagnosis could make us housing insecure. For some, that could look like a difficult cancer diagnosis, which has the potential to ruin one’s finances. For others, it could be something more simple like the flu. At lower wage jobs, not showing up or being late can result in termination. And then there’s the remarkable illness that often doesn’t come to mind first because of how our culture hides it: mental illness.
In my mother’s case of homelessness, mental illness was the major contributing factor. Her core diagnosis is schizophrenia, which, when left untreated, results in delusional experiences. These delusions ranged from good (an airplane wrote my name in the sky) to bad (someone has placed a bomb in this building). The latter is more disruptive and dangerous as it is (mom has had many run-ins with law enforcement that could have understandably gone disastrous), but from what I have observed, it led to other issues as well. Mom presented symptoms of anxiety because she had lucid experiences of danger, and showed signs of depression because she lived in a world where no one believed her.
Those multiple layers of illness ultimately led to crisis after crisis.
Witnessing the Crisis Mindset
My mom with our family in happier times in 1985.
In 2013, my mom reached out to me saying she was going to be kicked out of her apartment (again). Her partner, Dave, was going into full-time nursing care, and she wouldn’t be able to stay, and on top of that, they were not good housekeepers and the landlord had enough. She didn’t know what to do and asked for help.
I worked with her on nights and weekends for months to look into options for housing, but I had to be very careful at this time to keep her trust. She didn’t want to have a social worker because she knew they would force her to take medication and she didn’t believe anything was wrong with her. While that seems like a pretty small request, it kept her from accessing lots of services and made our work harder.
The clock was ticking on when she had to be out of her apartment, so we worked on setting up some security nets. First, we rerouted her social security check to a P.O. box so that she could still access funding without a permanent address. Next, we requested documents for a basic form of ID, which she hadn’t had in years. With identification in hand, we applied for housing with the MN Public Housing Authority, which provides funding for Section 8 housing vouchers for low-income individuals.
As hard as I tried (along with the support of my sister and aunt), none of it was enough. Weeks disappeared as we waited to hear about the Section 8 housing, and her apartment eviction deadline came and went. Mom moved into a hotel temporarily, but basic math showed that her social security couldn’t afford that for an entire month. Only a few weeks would be covered. So, I started researching shelters, and found that the Salvation Army had beds for a small fee, which is nothing short of a miracle. Typically shelters have to operate on a lottery system. If your number is selected, you have a place to stay for the night. If it’s not you are on your own. This shelter had a paid option — nothing glamorous, but at least a guaranteed place to stay and a locker to keep your possessions safe while you slept.
Long story short, mom wasn’t amenable to the shelter, which led to an outburst, which led to my calling a vulnerable adult hotline, which led to a quick assessment, which led to a commitment process. There were about a million steps in between there and now, but now, mom is medicated, safe, and housed.
There were lots of things I could have done differently in the process above, but I would like to reflect on a few key points. First, mom did not have the ability to build any of those “safety nets.” She absolutely could not have dealt with this alone. In fact, three adult, capable, hard-working women struggled to find a way forward. There was immense pressure to put things in place in a short amount of time, and I will admit, during that time, mom wasn’t exactly fun to be around. Honestly, I almost walked away, but my family’s support kept me trying.
Where would mom be now if I had walked away?
Hillcrest Village’s Solutions to Housing
Now that Hillcrest Village is built, its model is addressing housing insecurity here in Northfield. They offer a spectrum of options for tenants based on their needs, and focus on eliminating that crisis mindset.
Addressing Fight or Flight
One key way that Hillcrest addresses that “fight or flight” mindset is to remove time limits on housing. The crisis mindset isn’t fed by a limit to how long one can stay. There are units for emergency housing that are available rent-free. They are intended for a short-term solution, but again, that term isn’t defined. This is something that would have been wonderful in my mom’s crisis. It would have been safer than the paid shelter bed, and it could have been an option if we hadn’t had the foresight to get her social security sent to a P.O. box.
While in the emergency unit, the tenant receives services to help build those safety nets. That can include resources to food, employment, county benefits, and more. The goal is to work with the individual to become more stable and transition into a reduced rate unit.
Veronica, a current social worker at the Community Action Center, reminded me that financial issues aren’t the only reasons someone may come to Hillcrest. Tenants can rebuild their rent history while living there, no matter the circumstance. In the case of financial need, people can pay a reduced rate while at Hillcrest, but some may not have that need and can pay a full rent. Also, some tenants who previously experienced financial need may get back on their feet and be able to pay full rent. Either way, once that rental history is solid, tenants can choose to either stay in Hillcrest’s community or join a different neighborhood.
They say time heals all wounds. I don’t know if that’s necessarily true, but time gives people some much needed space to recover from the trauma of housing insecurity.
Asking the Community
Deciding what’s best for a community should involve asking that community what it needs. In my opinion, I don’t think this happens all that often for lots of reasons. First of all, it’s hard work. It takes a lot of effort to gather people together to hear their wants and needs. It is difficult in a group to hear a collective voice rather than the loudest voice. Finally, it is not common for people in a position of authority to be immediately close to the issues the community is facing. After all, how can one possibly have the capacity to be a community leader when they are dealing with intense issues day to day?
While I wasn’t there to experience how the Hillcrest Village planning team was able to gain insights from the community they served, I was privy to hearing the outcomes. A few requests were abundantly clear. The community wished for:
A rendering of the neighborhood model for Hillcrest Village.
A neighborhood feel — this led to townhomes instead of apartments
Something well kept — unlike the old motel Hillcrest replaced
Onsite laundry, please — going to the laundromat is a big time suck
These asks were not easy to deliver, but were prioritized by the planning team.
Tenant Relationships
Now that Hillcrest is built, there is an ongoing effort to understand the needs of tenants. Even with a very smartly designed building, there are kinks in the operations that need to be worked out. Property managers must build relationships with their tenants so they hear about issues and can help resolve them. Neighbors need to get to know each other and look out for one another. Case workers must stay in touch with their tenants to learn how needs are changing. It is a lot of ongoing work to keep this model alive.
A Tenant’s Perspective
While filming the original documentary about Hillcrest’s planning in 2021, I failed to capture the perspective of a potential tenant. There were lots of reasons for this. First, the property wasn’t actually built yet, so no one was benefiting from it at that point. Secondly, asking someone to share their story of housing insecurity isn’t a simple request.
This issue carried forward as I worked on the follow-up documentary.
Barriers to Sharing
The barriers to sharing one’s story of housing insecurity are abundant. First of all, it is a sensitive subject because housing insecurity can be tied to a deep sense of shame. In my own experience, I didn’t talk to many people about my mom’s journey because I was worried about a really logical question that I feared the listener might ask: How could you let her get in that situation in the first place? What kind of daughter are you?
I imagine that someone who experienced housing insecurity might feel similarly. How could they entrust their tender story of how they found themselves in a dire situation to a total stranger?
Another issue that could keep someone from sharing their story is basic security. Some people may be escaping a situation of domestic abuse, so may need to protect their story and identity for their and their family’s safety. Others may be in a situation of working through their immigration status, and bringing attention to their journey could put them at risk of deportation.
Finally, because tenants are in a position of receiving services, we wanted to avoid a transactional situation. It is important that tenants want to share their story, and don’t feel like they “owe” the Community Action Center for the support they receive. This makes navigating the ask tricky.
Finding the Right Person
To responsibly tell the story of Hillcrest Village, I needed to include the perspective of a tenant. From a values standpoint, I was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of talking about people who experienced housing insecurity rather than talking to them. I identified with Veronica’s insight that “people are the experts on their own lives.”l
To identify the right person to make an ask, I talked with Veronica. I must admit, on that Friday afternoon, I walked into her office with the goal of having interviews on the books. Once we got to talking, I knew I needed to slow down and approach this more delicately. First, Veronica and I discussed the goals of the documentary so she could understand what type of perspective I was after. I am very excited about the net zero sustainability aspect of Hillcrest Village, but the tenant perspective represents the social aspect of the community.
It was important to find someone who was willing and excited to share their story and discuss this social side. And to tie it all together, it would be really interesting if that person had experienced the concept of energy burden.
Veronica and I brainstormed a few tenants together — she gave me brief bios of their journeys and I thought they all sounded wonderful. To help Veronica make the ask, I began by drafting a summary of the project for her to share with people to gauge their interest in being involved. Here is what it said:
Northfield filmmaker Wendy Placko is making a documentary about Hillcrest Village. The half-hour program will be pitched to public television to share across Minnesota. The story focuses on two key features of Hillcrest: Net-Zero construction and transitional housing.
Wendy would like to interview Hillcrest neighbors on their experience living in the buildings. She's interested in hearing how it is different from living in a standard home. If participants are willing, she would also like to ask how the emergency or sliding scale rent has had an impact on tenants. Wendy's mom experienced homelessness, so she understands this situation can happen to anyone. She wants viewers to hear that message and understand the importance of a safety net like Hillcrest in communities.
[Be specific for the person]
Wendy was interested in meeting you in particular because of your experience [insert background here].
Veronica’s work led me to Vilma.
Vilma’s Story
Vilma being interviewed in her home.
Veronica initially described Vilma to me as a single mom who was willing to be vulnerable. When I actually met Vilma, I found that to be true, but I also felt an incredible amount of neighborliness and warmth.
Vilma’s native language is Spanish, and I knew I wanted to conduct our interview in Spanish. I studied German in-depth in college, and though after years of work I became proficient, I never felt like I could be myself in another language. I was initially nervous about scheduling the interview with Vilma without a Spanish speaker present, because I wasn’t sure of her proficiency. I got together with Angelica Linder, a wonderful collaborator on one of my last film projects, and she was able to serve as an interpreter for me to leave a voicemail for Vilma.
That turned out to be overkill, as Vilma was completely able to have a conversation in English to schedule an interview.
When I arrived at Vilma’s home with Angelica, I was greeted with amazing hospitality. Vilma welcomed me into her home, shared her story, and introduced me to her daughter and her dog Rambo. Rambo wasn’t a huge fan of me, but I think I will grow on him.
Vilma was open about her struggles in her old housing and how the floor dropped out from under her when her husband was deported. We are all one bad circumstance away from housing security, and that was hers. She shared how relieved she was when she was accepted into Hillcrest, and how safe she feels in the neighborhood.
I saw firsthand how hard Vilma works as she prepared food for friends for Mother’s Day and shared about her small business. Angelica and I got to sample the delicious sauce that accompanied Vilma’s Guatemalan tamales. We hung out in the kitchen together and chatted like we would with an old friend. As we left for the afternoon, I felt proud to have someone like Vilma as a neighbor.
Reducing “Othering”
Sharing Vilma’s story helps me control an “othering” narrative on people experiencing housing insecurity. I wish for viewers to build empathy by hearing a story firsthand of a real person with a complex story. While a “bad circumstance” that I described above is a trigger for an emergency, it is often part of a complex system of issues. If I can change someone’s opinion that homelessness is a problem for “those people over there” to “something that affects my neighbor” I will have been successful. If I can shift the narrative from “they made a mistake and must suffer the consequences” to “the problems are systemic and this person experienced a final straw” I will have been wildly successful.
Wendy Placko is a fiscal year 2024 recipient of a Creative Individuals grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board. This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund.