The BDN’s weekend front-page photograph told a sad, and for many, a shocking story. The photo showed a wooded scene not far from I-95 in Bangor, where a man had tipped over backward, his feet propped up on the log on which had been sitting. A woman, sitting nearby, was slumped, her chin on her chest. The nearby vodka bottle was the obvious culprit. Had the scene played out at 11 p.m. instead of in the early afternoon, or had it occurred a few weeks from now when temperatures regularly dip below freezing, the drinking companions may not have lived to see the morning.
For those who go to work every day, shuttle their children to and from basketball practice, zip in and out of the grocery store and then close the door behind them at home every evening, that scene is jarring. The drinking buddies, the BDN reported, often sleep in those same woods in which they drink. They are, statistically speaking, homeless.
And so are the sober and drug-free people who find a bed at the Main Street shelter each night. And so are those who are able to sleep on a friend’s or relative’s couch for a week or so. Some have jobs. Some once had houses. Some should be getting care for their mental illness.
Those who work in law enforcement, social service, health care and substance abuse counseling know homelessness in Bangor exists because they see it every day. Because the homeless slide along below the radar, getting a fix on their numbers is guesswork at best. It seems reasonable to assume, though, that there are more people without reliable sleeping arrangements today then there were a few years ago.
When confronted with the reality of homelessness, public officials are often moved to take action. But what action? Create more shelter capacity? More mental health services? More counseling? More supported employment?
Perhaps the best way to understand homelessness is to set aside the label and instead consider separately those who end up in that state. Some suffer from mental illness and are going untreated; their refusal to use shelters is not a choice in the sense that we understand that term. Others are addicted to drugs or alcohol. They use to abuse, but offering counseling services would give some a fighting chance to escape.
Still others have made poor financial decisions. More publicly supported employment, coupled with financial and life counseling, could help the working poor find and retain housing. Transitional housing, similar to the boarding homes that disappeared decades ago, where a bedroom and two meals a day were provided at an affordable weekly rate, could be a stepping stone for them.
More beds, more counseling, more health care. All are needed, and all are unlikely, given the economic climate. Churches, nonprofits and businesses can and should step up to fill some of the gaps.
Rather than try to grapple with the larger and overwhelming symptom of homelessness, public officials should seek instead to understand the problem’s components and apply fixes proven to work.