Listen to Youth

As a homeless individual, using the word in itself is a hard task. No one wants the judgement, the sad looks, the sympathy, the way everyone tiptoes around you. Personally, I found it embarrassing at first. When people asked where I lived, what was I supposed to say? I wake up at 4 in the morning because I sleep on the floor of a distant relative’s bug-infested house, who lives two hours away from school– but don’t worry, I’ll be packing up my stuff on Friday to try to find a new place to stay. This is not exactly what the average high school sophomore is used to hearing. But mostly I wondered if people would believe me, or just assume I was a needy teenager looking for attention.

“It would have been very difficult for me to verify my living situation when I was growing up. To ask for proof that an adult allowed me, a homeless child, to live with them for only 14 days would possibly cause some adults to feel guilty or worry that they could get in some trouble. I didn’t want anyone that was helping me to get tired of my presence.”

“When we lived with other people, they were not always nice to us. We couldn’t ask them for anything. They were mostly mad that we were there and did not want anyone else to know, especially their landlord. They would never let us say we were there. My mom could never tell anyone where we lived, or for how long. It was like being invisible.”

“I couldn’t sleep at night, not only because of the yelling and disdainful words, but also because I was afraid they might just come in and rip off my books. This is why I always carry all of my important belongings and needed schoolbooks with me everywhere I go. I have a very hard time to actually focus on my studies, because somewhere in my mind, a worry of my mom being beaten, or myself being kicked out again unexpectedly, is always present.”

“For my safety I could not stay in one place for too long. I would not have felt comfortable asking a person who I was staying with for the statement. I did not even want to admit to myself that I was homeless, and that my mother did not want me, so asking a person for a statement that said I was homeless and staying with them was not something I could have done, mentally. I was only 16 years old and that is expecting a lot from a child who was trying to find herself in a life/world that was cold to her.”

“I was also too afraid to use the amenities as I would at my own place. I was afraid that my stuff would get stolen or misplaced. I was nervous and depressed and felt abandoned. I was trying really hard to stay in school and get good grades, but my mind was occupied by the worry of finding a stable place to stay, food to eat, and how to keep all my stuff from being lost or stolen.”

“When Beth pays for the motel room, we are considered homeless. When my dad pays for the motel room, we are not considered homeless. That doesn’t make sense to me. It’s the same hotel room, and it’s hard to live there when you are young, no matter who pays.”

“Staying in a motel was challenging because my nuclear family consisted of 5 people, all of whom had to share a small motel room. Lack of privacy, inadequate facilities (there was no way to store or prepare food) and the general unsafe neighborhoods inexpensive motels are located in make the whole experience hard. This is worsened by the fact that 3 of the people living in the motel room were under the age of 15.”

“I feel that making youth document their homelessness through the people they couch surf with will only create another barrier and more frustration with the system. None of the people I lived with would have been willing to document that I was living there. They would have been suspicious and afraid of getting in trouble. Also, many of them I didn’t know well enough to ask them.”

“One of [my mom’s] friends from work offered to let us stay there. Her friend changed and would get really mean with me. Sometimes she was nice but you never knew when she would smack her son or pull his hair. Once the lady pushed me up the stairs and she was really mad at me. When my mom said something to her about pushing me up the stairs she told my mom to just leave.”