Tauranga Homeless. What is it like sleeping rough? Photo/John Borren
Tauranga Homeless. What is it like sleeping rough? Photo/John Borren
The homeless are in the spotlight after a controversial proposal to give city officials more power to police those who live on the street. Reporter Juliet Rowan investigates, talking to a homeless man about the harsh reality of life in the CBD.
John paints a bleak picture of life on Tauranga's streets.
"It's not just dog-eat-dog," he says. "It's rat-eat-rat. It's Lord of the Flies."
We found John sleeping rough in the CBD this week. He had only a large piece of plastic and thin sleeping bag to shield him from the ground.
Although John (not his real name) spoke openly, I have chosen not to identify him or disclose some personal details because he fears it will jeopardise his safety.
I was just too down and out," he says. "Everything about my life was existing. It was just plain existing. I had no friends.
John suffers from mental illness and has lived on the city's streets for years.
He yearns to find stable accommodation but tells a story about the cycle of homelessness which agencies that work with street people say is typical and can make their transition to life in long-term housing complex and difficult.
John's descent into life on the streets began when he was at polytech studying civil engineering.
He struggled with his studies because of his illness and ended up living in his car, saying getting a job or a house was impossible.
"I was just too down and out," he says. "Everything about my life was existing. It was just plain existing. I had no friends."
He has since had stints living in temporary accommodation and been in and out of prison, but mostly he has slept rough.
Now middle-aged, he has never married or had children, and has no contact with his family. He would not be drawn on the reasons, though he says he did not have a bad childhood.
Now, however, beatings, theft and trouble with the law are part of his everyday reality.
"Living on the streets is dangerous," he says. "People want to take your gear or even people who just don't like where you're sleeping, or don't like you for being homeless [are a threat]."
He says some street people are "punch drunk", usually because of violent backgrounds, but harm is just as likely to come from boy racers and drunks leaving Tauranga's bars.
Everyday reality
John was recently punched in the head and fear of more beatings plagues his existence.
"They say one kick to the head, you're dead. I don't want to die. I don't want to have my teeth knocked out."
A recent report on the homeless in Auckland found people sleeping rough were vulnerable to physical attack, especially from drunk people leaving bars and nightclubs late at night.
Tauranga Homeless. What is it like sleeping rough? Photo/John Borren
The inter-agency report, An insight into the experience of rough sleeping in central Auckland, released in January, also found the homeless vulnerable to assault by friends and family who slept rough.
Recrimination for speaking publicly about life on the streets scares John too.
Another man tells us he suffered a backlash from the homeless community for months after he was dubbed "King of the Streets" in a newspaper report.
When you first sleep on hard surfaces, on cold concrete, one half of your brain screams to the other half of your brain every 10 minutes. But then you tell yourself, 'Just forget it because it's not going to get any better'.
"I didn't realise it was such a hotly contested title," the man says.
For John, fear dictates he sleeps alone and when we approach he is tucked against a wall, his bags of belongings behind his body.
Like many of the homeless, he tends to sleep during the day to minimise risk of beatings and to make it easier to guard his possessions. He says drugs and alcohol are the prime target of street thieves, but protecting personal items is his goal.
The loss of a sleeping bag can be devastating, he says, and as we sit on the ground to talk to him, damp and cold seep through our clothes.
"When you first sleep on hard surfaces, on cold concrete, one half of your brain screams to the other half of your brain every 10 minutes. But then you tell yourself, 'Just forget it because it's not going to get any better'."
He has also grown accustomed to hunger, and tends to eat just once a day.
Finding a bed
Unlike some homeless people, John has ID and can therefore access social services. He survives on a government benefit and sometimes sees social and health workers, but is suspicious of the city's new homeless men's shelter, the Tauranga Moana Nightshelter.
John has been in prison "umpteen times" - the result of repeated arrests for failing to comply with police requests to move off property and not adhering to court-imposed sentences.
He is conscious of judgments from others that he is not helping himself but says he has tried to get off the streets.
"Three winters ago, I told myself I'd do the utmost to get accommodation. Last winter, I was in a permanent hostel with my own bedroom and the winter before I was at a backpacker's sharing a room with three other people."
Most recently, he took up an offer of a bed from an acquaintance, but the arrangement came to an abrupt end when he says he was taken advantage of for food and money.
He says getting fleeced is a common experience, as is getting kicked out and arrested when things go wrong in temporary accommodation.
The Tauranga Moana Nightshelter in Elizabeth St. Photo/file
Social workers say relationships between street people can be a barrier to remaining in accommodation because, if they do secure housing, they may take in other homeless friends out of guilt or loyalty.
Keeping up with rent can be challenging enough, but having other street people as boarders can result in violating tenancy agreements, eviction and loss of bond.
Struggling with addiction
From there, people can spiral into a cycle of debt and may relapse into drug and alcohol addiction. Before long. they are back on the streets - a phenomenon the January report on homelessness in Auckland called The Housing Conundrum.
Like others, helping friends is a priority for John. He talks of trying to assist another homeless man to get the documents he needs to access a benefit.
John does not appear to be in debt, saying members of the public sometimes offer him money but he declines.
"Money's not my problem, it's accommodation," he says.
As I talk to him, another man walks past and asks him for a light, but he says, "I don't smoke".
When asked if he drinks, John says, " I only drink when there's a party and there are not many parties in my life."
He dreams of travelling but has never been south of Wellington and says due to court requirements that he report daily to police, he cannot leave Tauranga.
The most he can hope for in the future is "not to be sent to prison".
There, John says, the beatings are a whole lot worse.
Last month, Tauranga's deputy mayor, Kelvin Clout, caused controversy when he proposed a bylaw to give the council more power to police the homeless.
His proposal followed complaints from retailers about street people defecating and smearing faeces on walls, and threatening passersby.
However, those who work with the homeless criticised the proposal, saying it was discrimination against people already falling through the cracks in society.
This week, the council's bylaws monitoring officer, Paul Mason, told the Bay of Plenty Times Weekend that discussions on the proposal were limited to councillors.
What Do You Think?What is the answer to Tauranga's homeless problem? Should there be a crackdown or should another shelter be built? And who should pay? Email us your thoughts at editor@bayofplentytimes.co.nz
"There are no current plans for a council bylaw. This is a community issue, which is why council works closely with police and other agencies. There is no one-size-fits-all response because these are real people we are dealing with," Mason says.
Because of the transient nature of the homeless, it is hard to work out the exact number of people living on Tauranga streets, but there is evidence to suggest the population and demographic is growing.
In a study conducted by the Tauranga Moana Nightshelter Trust in 2012, it found the number of chronic rough sleepers in the city numbered between 30 and 40.
Some agencies now put the figure as high as 80.
"These people are continually living without the benefits that accommodation provides," says social worker and homeless advocate Gary Hinton, of Tauranga family services provider St Peter's House.
"It is also estimated that possibly up to 100 or more persons are homeless but living in cars, garages, staying short-term with friends at a variety of locations - couch-surfing - [and] continually moving as transients."
Hinton says 90 per cent of Tauranga's homeless are men - 50 per cent Maori, and 40 per cent European - and police say they are mainly middle-aged or elderly.
Photo/file
Senior Constable Ian Searle, officer in charge of community policing for central Tauranga, says police are familiar with many of the men, some of whom refuse help, and Hinton says a growing number of women and women with children are finding themselves without shelter.
The growth of homelessness in the Bay
"There is also a large number of younger males becoming homeless, but numbers on these are unknown, possibly because younger males generally choose to not engage with social service agencies."
Hinton says the homeless population appears to be growing "partially brought on by the belief that Tauranga is a great place to live".
The reasons for sleeping rough vary between individuals, but a parliamentary report last year, titled Homelessness in New Zealand, listed several contributing factors including a lack of affordable accommodation, poverty/unemployment, mental-health issues, emotional trauma and addictions.
"No one sets out to be homeless," says Mr Hinton. "Life events, traumatic events, mental health, loss of family and friends can soon render anyone into a homeless state. With accommodation at a premium, this can be prolonged, which leads to other difficulties."
The issues the homeless face getting into housing and maintaining stable accommodation are also complex (see The Housing Conundrum graphic), but Hinton says change is always possible and tending to their basic needs is the first priority.
"Until someone has been provided with warmth, clothing, food and shelter, on a consistent basis, it is impossible to progress on to life-learning skills, work skills, etcetera."
Tauranga Community Housing Trust works with people ready to commit to long-term accommodation but chairwoman Jo Gravitt says the homeless usually need "total wraparound support services" before they can reach that stage.
While there is a shortage of rental accommodation in the city, Tauranga Moana Nightshelter Trust chair Mike Mills says this is not so much the issue for people moving off the streets, as managing to stay in accommodation.
"For a number of our guys, that ongoing support once they move into accommodation is going to be critical," Mills says.
His agency aims to help homeless men with a "matrix approach".
Veges full of goodness
The garden at the Tauranga Moana Nightshelter has been cleared to make way for winter crops.
Silverbeet and broccoli are all that remain, and more vegetables will be planted by the homeless men who use the Elizabeth St shelter for a break from the streets or to try and transition to longer-term accommodation.
Washing fills the clotheslines and one of the men is mowing the lawns.
In the six months since the shelter opened, manager Annamarie Angus says staff have helped 10 men move into longer-term accommodation, including social housing and boarding houses. Some have also gone back to family "which is a great thing," she says.
Taking the first step
Getting men into housing is always the shelter's aim, but she says building basic life skills is often the first step.
As well as cooking and cleaning, the men are encouraged to manage their money, and the shelter also works to help them gain identification and other critical documentation if lacking.
"Once you're on the street, clawing your way out of that is so difficult because you get barriers every which way you look. Getting anything sorted from the street is near to impossible."
Homelessness is not hopelessness. They're not hopeless. They're just homeless.
Getting ID is a crucial step in facilitating access to social services and medical care. At the shelter, there is additional access to a nutritionist and nurse, and local dentists have provided free dental care to some homeless men who may not have seen a dentist for decades.
Angus says the results of such care can be stunning in terms of the boost to men's self-esteem.
"One of the guys [who received dental treatment] got work and housing, and he's gone. He couldn't stop smiling."
Says the nightshelter's social worker, Tracey Lee: "It's providing access for these guys to be treated with the basic humanity and respect that all humans are entitled to and it's something they believe they're not entitled to. It gives them a sense of wellbeing, a sense of self-worth ... It all comes down to hope."
Angus: "Homelessness is not hopelessness. They're not hopeless. They're just homeless."
Versatile Products owner Chris Munro - his deck is a favourite doss for Tauranga vagrants who sleep and smoke and sometimes smear excrement on the walls. Photo/file
Night supervisor Brent Sowry, who lives at the shelter to help the men during their overnight stays, says homelessness is something that can happen to anyone.
He is trained in helping people with mental-health issues and addictions, but previously lived on the streets and struggled with drug addiction himself.
He says he became homeless despite a private-school upbringing and saw people lose everything in the 1980s stock-market crash and end up on the streets.
The homeless can be suspicious even of the shelter, but Sowry spends his nights providing a listening ear to the men when needed and says his background helps gain their trust.
"We understand each other. They know I understand because I've been there myself. It's my calling. I can use my past as an asset rather than a hindrance."
Lance Wilson, another worker at the shelter, also lived on the streets. He says the service is so much more than a bed and shower to the men. "When they come here, they feel safe."
The shelter has chosen a different approach from others in the country, where there are strict rules about entry and exit times and lights out at night.
We understand each other. They know I understand because I've been there myself. It's my calling. I can use my past as an asset rather than a hindrance.
Instead, it allows flexibility for the men to stay longer if they are engaged with work or social agencies on the premises.
Mike Mills, of the nightshelter trust, says the shelter wants to avoid an institutional feel, and instead provide a "matrix approach to solving complex situations" by working closely with other agencies and ensuring men's individual needs are met.
"They're complex and their circumstances are not so easily typecast ... For many of them, the chance to turn their lives around and even get a start has been so welcome and so beneficial."
Mills has a background in social work, a master's degree in planning and is also co-ordinator of the inter-agency Tauranga Moana Safe City initiative.
He says any public fears the shelter would be treated with contempt or a lack of respect by the homeless have proved unfounded.
"We feel vindicated that our approach - which is not just to provide a bed or warehouse approach, but our commitment to really work to alleviate homelessness - has been justified.
"It's all summed up in one word - dignity - or in a Maori context, it's about mana and self-respect."
Homelessness, not just a male-only world
While organisations such as the nightshelter are catering for homeless men, they also recognise the need for a service for women.
Women's Refuge has reported its staff are receiving a large number of calls from women desperate for emergency accommodation, but its criteria for entry to safe houses is a threat of violence.
Women are said to be angered as a result of being turned away from the refuge, and Mike Mills and Annamarie Angus say establishing a women's shelter is something the trust may explore in the future.
Elsewhere in the community, others continue to support the homeless, including individuals who have set out to ensure they do not go hungry.
Liz Kite, a drug and alcohol counsellor, has provided meals to street people every Saturday night for the last five months. She works with a team of women who cook for about 25 homeless men and women at their own expense.
"Our aim is to give them a healthy meal, but also to talk to them, to be their friends, and to give them hope."
The Elim Church also provides a Wednesday night "Street Reach" programme to feed the homeless.
* How to help To sponsor a homeless man a night in a bed at the Tauranga Moana Nightshelter for $15, email annamarie@tmnt.org.nz or call (07) 579-5322.
