friday night. somewhere safe to go.
An imagined story, inspired by a collaboration of real-life experiences. The people, circumstances and events are fictional, but the situations may be familiar to many.
It's Friday. It's cold outside.
Somewhere, someone is sitting in a room wondering how they're going to get through another weekend.
Perhaps it's a woman trying to avoid her drunk brother-in-law. Perhaps it's someone living with a landlord who frightens them. Perhaps it's a young person who can't go home, an older woman whose rent has become impossible, or someone who has simply run out of places to turn.
They need somewhere to go.
Someone will inevitably say, "Call 211."
And perhaps they will.
But a telephone number isn't a bed. A referral isn't a room. And being told where to look doesn't mean there's anywhere available.
Let's meet a young woman. We'll call her Sarah.
Sarah has been outside before. She's also stayed in a shelter. People keep telling her she's lucky to have somewhere to sleep.
But tonight she's remembering the last time.
She remembers the intake questions.
Do you need housing assistance?
Yes.
Do you need support?
Yes.
Do you have other needs?
Yes.
Boxes were checked. Forms were completed. And then she was left wondering who she was supposed to talk to next.
Nobody explained where to go, how to access services or who would follow up.
She remembers the cot, the shortage of blankets, the belongings she had to keep close and the uncertainty of sharing space with strangers.
She remembers the bathroom.
One working toilet. No door.
She remembers menstruating, having no clean clothes to change into and feeling utterly exposed.
She remembers thinking that surely, even in a shelter, a woman should be able to use a bathroom in private.
And Sarah isn't the only person with bodily needs.
Someone else arrives after eating food that made them terribly sick. They have diarrhea and need a bathroom urgently.
Someone has a terrible cold or flu. They're coughing, feverish and exhausted.
Someone else is experiencing withdrawal and needs medical attention and compassionate support.
Someone needs a shower. Someone needs clean underwear. Someone needs laundry facilities. Someone needs food they can actually eat.
Someone needs to keep their medication safe.
Someone has a dog they cannot bear to leave behind.
Someone has spent the last six months protecting the few belongings they still own and is terrified of losing them.
These aren't unreasonable demands.
They're ordinary human needs.
And yet, when someone becomes homeless, even the simplest things can become complicated.
A bathroom might be locked. Wi-Fi might require a purchase. A phone might be disconnected. A shelter might have rules that separate people from their partners, pets or belongings.
A service might exist, but nobody explains how to access it.
And somewhere in all of this, we started confusing having a roof over someone's head with actually helping them.
what happened to community?
I keep thinking about something else.
What if we hadn't built a society where every problem required an institution, an application, a referral, an appointment or a telephone number?
What if we had stronger communities?
Many Indigenous Nations have long-standing traditions of collective responsibility, sharing knowledge, caring for elders and children, and maintaining relationships with the land. These traditions are diverse, and they have survived despite generations of colonial disruption.
Think about the knowledge women shared.
Moon time. Plant knowledge. Food preparation. Caring for children. Helping one another through difficult times.
Imagine having aunties, grandmothers, neighbours and friends who knew when someone was struggling.
Imagine not having to face every crisis alone.
This isn't about pretending the past was perfect. It wasn't.
It's about recognizing that connection, shared responsibility and belonging are essential to human survival.
And it's about asking what we've lost along the way.
we need more than shelters
We absolutely need emergency shelters. People need somewhere warm and safe tonight.
But we also need transitional housing, affordable homes, accessible bathrooms, public washrooms, hygiene supplies, laundry facilities, food security, health care and people who can actually help navigate the system.
We need services that recognize trauma, disability, addiction and poverty.
We need places where people aren't treated as problems to be managed.
And we need to stop assuming that someone who doesn't accept a particular shelter bed is choosing homelessness.
Sometimes they're choosing between two difficult situations.
Sometimes they're escaping abuse.
Sometimes they're protecting a beloved animal.
Sometimes they've already tried the shelter system and it didn't work for them.
And sometimes they simply need someone to sit down, listen and help them figure out what happens next.
friday night
It's still cold outside.
Sarah is still trying to figure out where she's going to sleep.
Somewhere else, another person is making the same calculations.
Do I stay where I'm frightened, or leave?
Do I give up my belongings?
Can I bring my dog?
Will there be a bed?
Will I be safe?
Will anyone help me?
These are not questions anyone should have to answer alone.
Perhaps we need to rethink what we mean by helping people.
Not simply keeping people alive until tomorrow, but creating communities where people can actually live.
Where there is dignity, privacy, food, shelter, friendship, shared knowledge and a place to belong.
People need community, not just institutions. Belonging, not just beds. Dignity, not just survival.
We can do better.
And maybe it's time we started building a society that doesn't leave people with nowhere to go in the first place.
Because homelessness is not a moral failure. And needing help should never mean surrendering your humanity.
— Zipolita
Reflective Questions
1. Have you ever considered that someone might leave an unsafe home but have nowhere safe to go?
2. When we tell someone to call 211, do we know whether there is actually somewhere available for them?
3. Is providing a bed enough if someone has no privacy, clean clothing, food or access to basic hygiene?
4. Should anyone have to choose between a safe place to sleep and staying with their beloved pet or partner?
5. Why do we expect people experiencing homelessness to navigate complicated systems without someone helping them?
6. What happens to people whose medical, mental health or disability needs cannot be accommodated in emergency shelters?
7. Have we become so accustomed to institutional solutions that we've forgotten the importance of neighbours, extended families and community support?
8. What could we learn from Indigenous traditions of sharing knowledge, collective responsibility and caring for one another, while respecting the distinct teachings of individual Nations?
9. Why do we treat homelessness as an individual failure instead of asking what is failing in our society?
10. What would our communities look like if nobody had to face a crisis alone?
And my favourite closing thought for the post:
If we can organize society around buildings, businesses and institutions, surely we can organize it around human beings.
#Homelessness #HousingIsAHumanRight #HumanDignity #ShelterIsNotEnough #CommunityCare #IndigenousKnowledge #WomensHealth #EndHomelessness #CompassionInAction #RebuildCommunity
