Portside

I listened with profound sadness to the recent Supreme Court decision Grants Pass v. Johnson, which opens the door for people to be arrested simply for lacking shelter. This decision makes it legal for local governments to target, fine, and even incarcerate people who fall asleep in public areas, regardless of whether there’s safe, accessible shelter available. 

Where’s the compassion? Where’s the justice?

I know what it’s like to be without a place to call home. In the years before the pandemic, my husband and I were working hard to buy a house for our children and the animals we rescued. I’d overcome an opioid addiction. We had a small business and were starting to achieve our dreams.

But when the pandemic hit, we lost our business, and our debts quickly mounted. We’d nearly completed the purchase of the house we’d been renting, but we lacked the money to transfer the deed. The owner of the deed decided to evict us.

We live in a small, rural West Virginia town where only two shelters are available—and none that would take our pets. So we lived in a tent with our children and animals for three months. 

Losing your home is incredibly destabilizing. Without a fixed address, you can lose benefit payments, official mail, jobs, and other critical opportunities. When I was evicted, I didn’t have time to switch over my license plate to my new vehicle, which caused me to lose my license. I still haven’t been able to regain my driving privileges.

We had to walk long distances for food and water, and we had no way to shower. My children had to change schools, and the emotional strain on them caused behavioral and mental health challenges that no child should have to experience.

We survived with help from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), or food stamps. We got a tiny amount of cash assistance from the Temporary Assistance to Needy Families program and health care through Medicaid. 

We were eligible for housing assistance, but the wait was impossibly long due to the lack of available affordable housing. That’s not just a problem in West Virginia—the United States has a shortage of more than seven million affordable housing units for people with very low incomes. 

Let me tell you this: No one wakes up one morning and chooses to be homeless. No one says to themselves, “How fun would it be for my kids and my family to live in a tent without food, water, school, or transportation?”

The owner of the deed to our house finally relented and reduced the deed fee so we could take possession of our house and move back home. But so much damage had been done to the kids already—and we lost most of our rescued animals.

Once housed, I finished my Masters in Public Administration. But with a felony conviction from my earlier days suffering through addiction, finding a job is challenging. My husband works but has medical challenges. We live paycheck to paycheck, hoping another disaster won’t put us out on the street.

Things need to change for families like mine. The Supreme Court’s cruel decision to penalize people who are suffering is a big step in the wrong direction. How is fining and arresting people who are too poor to pay going to help?

Here’s a better idea. We need to invest in affordable housing, ensure people are paid living wages, and support struggling families with a robust safety net. 

I’m deeply saddened that our leaders would criminalize people suffering poverty, as if we were living in a Charles Dickens novel. Our laws must be better, and we must hold our officials accountable. We work hard at doing the right thing—they should, too.

This column was produced for Progressive Perspectives, a project of The Progressive magazine, and distributed by Tribune News Service.

Christiana Stalnaker is a mother, advocate, and volunteer with RESULTS from Four States, West Virginia.

A voice for peace, social justice, and the common good! Since 1909, The Progressive magazine has aimed to amplify voices of dissent and voices under-represented in the mainstream, with a goal of championing grassroots progressive politics.