National Homeless Persons’ Week has just finished.  It comes around once a year.  Sadly, homelessness itself is a more persistent phenomenon; it’s with us every day, it sticks around.  Despite attention from governments and huge efforts from the community sector it’s hard to budge.

Having a week dedicated to awareness of homelessness is a good thing.  It stimulates discussion about the seemingly intractable nature of the problem and challenges us to think about whether (and how) we can overcome it.  We know the answer to this question must be “yes” because the alternative is unthinkable.  The stories and experiences we hear about during the week confirm this.

This year much of the discussion has highlighted how the nature of homelessness is changing. The middle-aged man who finds himself on the streets because of unexpected financial or relationship problems is no longer the norm (although this still happens, of course.)  These days, more and more young people are finding themselves without a secure place to call home due to family disintegration and conflict.  They move from place to place seeking a roof over their heads with friends and acquaintances each night but it’s not reliable, it’s not long term and it often comes with “strings attached” or is unsafe.

Women and children are leaving violence.  Finding refuges full or non-existent, they sleep in cars or rely on others who may or may not be benevolent. Mental ill-health and substance dependence commonly lead to, and are reinforced by, homelessness.

And let’s not discount the basic role of poverty . How do people manage to pay market rent on a low income?  Newstart Allowance (including rent allowance) pays $295.00 a week for a single person (or $276 if they’re sharing the rent with someone else).  How do people make ends meet?

For many tenants, their housing security is precarious – especially with the increasing casualisation of work arrangements in Australia, with split shifts and uncertain working hours for so-called “independent contractors”.   When I sat on the Residential Tenancies Tribunal in Adelaide, Easter  and Christmas (times of celebration for most Australians) were particularly difficult times for tenants who relied on casual work contracts.  A few days off work in a row on a low and uncertain income could be enough to tip the balance and lead them down the eviction path.  Throw in a bout of sickness or an unexpected bill like a car breakdown and homelessness beckons.

We know, too, that the “two speed” economy – with increasing demand for housing in the boom towns - is seeing locals squeezed out of housing markets and will inevitably lead to more homelessness.  The forces at work here are daunting. 

On Friday morning I “walked a mile” for Adelaide’s legendary Hutt Street Centre, which is a hub for many of the city’s homeless people.  It struck me that being homeless is about more than not having a safe or dependable place to lay your head and the practical aspects of that.  There are the corrosive effects of not having your own, secure place in the Australian community - the risk that you feel that you don’t matter or that you’re invisible.

 I take my hat off to the many people of goodwill who, like the issue itself, persist in this field.  Every day a myriad of organisations offer practical support and sustenance for homeless people – in the form of accommodation, meals, showers and companionship.  Some of them are well-known to us; St Vinnies, the Salvos and Anglicare are household names.  But there are many others who offer indispensable service on a local scale in towns and cities all around Australia.  What these organisations provide – perhaps more importantly than anything else – is a sense of connection to their clients.  They convey to them a sense that they are valued , that they are “seen” and that they “belong” in their community even if they don’t have a place to call home. 

As dusk is falling, in a car, on a stranger’s couch, in a park, in the early hours of the morning, I am thinking about how it must feel to not have a secure place to call home.  While “the Week” has now finished for another year, the reality for those people who live their days without a place to call home will continue.  If we are a caring society – and I think we are – we can all do more, as governments and individuals, to reduce the number of people facing this situation in a year’s time.