The Impacts of Indiana’s Ban on Sleeping Outside

When talking about the “homeless problem,” most people think it refers to people living without a home. But for some others, the homeless problem means homeless people. Whenever we discuss the issue of homelessness, it’s important to pay attention to these separate perspectives because they often lead to very different answers to the problem.  The recent law passed in Indiana (SB125) is an example of the distinction. The law bans camping on all public lands throughout the state of Indiana. Advocates for the new law claim it’s a tool to help people access services. But from my perspective, it’s a tool to remove people experiencing extreme poverty from our public view.  While there’s no doubt that public camping can be decidedly challenging at times, we can never forget these are human beings struggling to get by. I’ve seen them lose fingers and toes because of the cold. I’ve seen them weep in terror not knowing where they’ll be able to sleep or rest. I’ve seen them struggle with being lost and hopeless in a world that offers them so little, including even a place to lay their head.   This new law does absolutely nothing to resolve the shelter and housing gaps we have in our state. We simply don’t have enough shelter beds for everyone who is homeless in Indiana. Can you imagine the fear of having absolutely no place to go? Finding yourself empty and homeless with nowhere to turn?  This law does nothing to help with that. That’s inhumane. It only will push people into deeper hiding or put people in jail. If you want to make street homelessness illegal, at a bare minimum, it becomes a moral obligation to provide a safe, ethical, caring space for people to go.  Our jails are already the mental health hospitals of our communities. The Los Angeles County Jail is the largest mental health hospital in the nation. And apart from the horrible ethics of using jails as a response to homelessness, jails are the most expensive form of housing there is.  As a result of the law, some folks may not have to witness the struggles of people without homes as often, but it does nothing to care for someone, or lift someone up, or offer hope, or call forth someone’s beauty and possibility. It degrades, dismisses, and destroys. And we need to be better than that.  At Beacon, I want us to be that light in the darkness. Cold, alone, and afraid, you see us in the distance and weep from the sheer joy of knowing someone is there for you.  Every day, we seek to offer dignity and hope and possibility. We would be a sanctuary from a hard world but also a steppingstone to a better life. While we have long term plans to build more shelter beds and open more homes, in the meantime, the best thing we can do is help people move back into homes as quickly as possible, so we open more opportunities for others.  That’s what your support does. It bolsters our possibilities and opportunities, allowing us to keep that door open, to keep that light on.  That hand is reaching out. Will you reach back?