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Kirk LaPointe: Homelessness is complex but that can’t hold us back from taking action

It is a grand pretension that a city, a province, even a federal government can solve homelessness on any scale.
homeless-rob-kruyt
Greater Vancouver's homelessness rate has rising dramatically from 2020 to 2022, writes Kirk LaPointe | Rob Kruyt

It is a grand pretension that a city, a province, even a federal government can solve homelessness on any scale.

They approach this from the wrong angle, with an assumption of generalized causes, needs and prescriptions – of “programs” or “initiatives” or “strategies.”

The fact is that each case of homelessness is so individualized as to be outside of any such common-denominator policy. It requires a granular, personal and compassionate understanding of the origins and paths to mitigate the person-by-person challenges.

It should be no surprise, nor any cause for an unreceptive reaction, that Vancouver and its surrounding communities’ homelessness “count” enlarged at a record rate: 4,821, up 32 per cent from the 2020 count of 3,634.

Our region, in general, is the nation’s best at accommodating the qualities of homelessness, whether it’s health or housing or basic acceptance and sophistication by law enforcement. In the it-could-be-worse category, we pose a milder climate for life on the streets. This is part of the bargain we have as such a socially progressive place.

But what we also offer as communities are extraordinarily intelligent organizations that dig deep and treat the conditions of homelessness one person at a time. It is there that a more meaningful, sustainable impact can be made – not on the gestures of sweeping measures.

In the case I want to highlight – Covenant House Vancouver, to which I donate and will join again on the Executive Sleep Out on the night of November 16 – the program is time-tested and true to the ambition of customized attention to young people.

I have seen the extraordinary results of the labours of its staff and the struggling, harmed, traumatized people who find each other. We should all be so fortunate as to experience in our depths the comprehension and commitment of the Covenant House team and the skill with which they confer care.

Its program is actually part of a continuum of care, including street outreach, a drop-in centre, supportive housing, drug and alcohol counselling, mental health programs and life-skills training. It takes them in, cleanses their systems, counsels their conditions, creates options and offers opportunities for routines and jobs – something most of us fail to recognize as challenges for others – to convey them to safe shelters upon departure. It is in keeping with the specific requirements of, a “one-to-one” program that meets young people where they are in their paths.

It is disturbing to me, in a part of the world with so much conspicuous wealth, that Covenant House cannot contend with the demand of its service. I drive through neighbourhoods that could write cheques to make the place so buoyant financially as to not find enough caregivers.

That demand is not bottomless, but it can seem a losing battle in an environment of conflicting, coursing requirements as the communities grow, and as the visibility of violence and hardship broadens.

I grew up without any of the violence but with the hunger as the child of a single mother with few means. I just thought it was normal to miss breakfast, have a small lunch, and eat less than wholesomely at dinner. It has recently brought me to the board of KidSafe Society, which deals squarely with the issue of nutritional and physical care for hundreds of Vancouver children – an organization I will write about in the weeks to come.

I can still summon the somatic pang of the empty stomach that the young people who come to Covenant House – young people at a physically needy stage whose bodies require oversized, ample meals who are scrounging for basics on our streets. Covenant House cooked nearly 100,000 meals last year and brought more than 250 through its program to the other side of their despair.

Look, we can drive by or we can stop the car.

The sleep-out is a minor experience with major impact. There will be dozens of others who will participate in order to help finance the programs for hundreds whose lives will change.

We know from our surveys at BIV that our readers are higher-incomed British Columbians, so I am asking that you use the keyboard you’re reading now – or get to one from the paper in your hands – and help my effort to raise funds.

Don’t be put off by the long URL. Security of donations is crucial. But thanks: support.covenanthousebc.org/goto/kirklapointe.

Kirk LaPointe is the publisher and executive editor of BIV and vice-president, editorial, of Glacier Media.