S.F. Homeless Count Is a Farce -- And I Know This Because I Volunteered
|Who has one? I have one. One homeless man|
The biannual homeless count secures $18 million in federal McKinney-Vento funds for about 50 homeless programs in San Francisco. Although there is no direct connection between the number of homeless counted and the dollars doled out, the homeless count has long been used as an indicator of how well the city is dealing with homelessness. If the number drops, the mayor looks like he's got things under control. When the number increases (it jumped from 6,248 in 2005 to 6,377 in 2007), nonprofits can criticize Newsom and humbly suggest they've got better ideas. Now, if only somebody could throw a little more cash their way ...
That would all be fine and good, if it weren't for one small and
inconvenient fact for everyone involved: The homeless count is
a meaningless charade. Anybody who participated (who is not in denial
or incredibly stupid) knows that.
Take the volunteer instructions, for example. We were to automatically count people sleeping outside; vehicles with covered windows; and makeshift structures such as tents and boxes. We were not to automatically count people leaving bars or waiting for buses. And finally, we were to take factors like loitering, panhandling, shopping-cart pushing, recycling, inebriation, and dishevelry (yeah, I know, not a word, but it should be) into consideration when deciding who was and wasn't homeless. Talk about subjective. Oh, and under no circumstances were we to actually ask a person whether or not they lived in a home. Perhaps that would make the survey a little too accurate?
After the training session, volunteers were split into groups of two or three, given maps of areas marked off in yellow, and sent into the night, either by car or on foot, to count the number of people who looked homeless. I got paired up with a nice guy in his 20s who works for an acronym. He didn't want his name or his acronym mentioned in the story cause he didn't know if the boss would like it. I'm not sure if it was because he knew I was a reporter, but the guy took our count very seriously.
Our area looked like a beginner's Tetris game with cut-outs and jagged edges and no easy way to win. The area included small sections of Noe Valley, the Castro, and the Mission, with Valencia Street as the eastern border and Castro Street as the western one. Blue dots on our map were marked "hot spots," although after driving thorugh our area for a while it became clear that we weren't going to get much action.
The first potentially homeless person we encountered on Valencia near 20th Street screamed dishevelry, but he happened to be walking on the side of the street that wasn't our territory, so technically, we weren't supposed to count him. Also, my team member happened to know that guy, and guess what? He wasn't homeless at all. The situation brought up an interesting issue, though: Homeless-looking people sometimes move from one place to another. Would some be counted twice, and others not at all? Would it even out, then? Did any of this even matter?
Continuing on our route, we drove by a couple of people who had shopping carts full of stuff, but they were in a shadow, and it was too dark to figure out just how homeless they looked. My team member seemed to think it was rude to slow down and stare, so we kept driving, unsure of what to do. If we wrote them down and they weren't homeless, we'd be inflating the numbers and making Gavin Newsom look ever-so-slightly worse than he should. If we didn't write them down, and they were homeless, we might be contributing to an inaccurately low count, which would be a disservice to them. My teammate recorded the people with shopping carts.
In the two hours we drove our area, making sure to cruise through all the alleys and backstreets and parking lots, we only encountered six people who looked more-or-less homeless. Actually, make that seven. (We also ran into Omer Travers, the Valencia Street performer who wears an animal-print rock cape and high-heeled boots, but we happened to know that he wasn't homeless.) There may have been plenty more staying with friends, or hidden from view, or simply not looking homeless enough to make our count.
All I know is that we gave it our best, and at the end I didn't feel at all confident that we reported a correct number. I could have stuck around to ask people if they had the same experience, but I didn't want to waste any more of my time. No matter how many people's time this wastes, the bottom line is that the city has to do it for funding. But do people have to go on assigning it importance for political gain? We'll find out in a few months, when the whole pointless thing finally comes to an end. Until 2011.