Before last July I had no idea how it felt to sleep out on the concrete in the middle of winter. I never knew that your bones ache, not just from the cold, but also from the constant contact with the hard, uncompromising surface. I didn't know that the ground feels much colder than the air, or that sleeping in the city means being woken up almost hourly " if you get to sleep at all. I never realised that sleeping outside with a group of strangers can activate ancient human instincts, leading you to cling to any person you know, regardless of how shallow or recent your connection.
As a privileged woman who has always been able to rely on having a roof over her head, I had a lot to learn. My ignorance, however, was a bittersweet blessing that an increasing number of New Zealanders can no longer count on. As the weeks roll by and we fall deeper into the winter months, more than 41,000 Kiwis have no place to call home. And in our proud little nation, we all know that's not the Kiwi way.
On July 7 I will be sleeping out in inner-city Auckland for another cold night. For me, it will be one night, out of this year's 366, that I will spend out of my warm bed, attempting to raise funds for Lifewise to allow them to continue their great work in getting people off the streets and into housing. For tens of thousands of other Kiwis around the country sleeping in their cars, on acquaintances' couches, under bridges and on the streets, it'll be just another night of a bleak reality where instability is the only constant.
The Lifewise Big Sleep Out is an admittedly vanilla version of temporary homelessness. Participants huddle in sleeping bags in the quad of AUT while security guards patrol the perimeter. Dinner and breakfast are served for everyone in the whare kai. It is not a true representation of homelessness but it is powerful nonetheless. Lying under the threatening rain clouds, dreaming of my soft bed after hearing from young people who spent years on the streets, I certainly began to grasp just how difficult life would be if I had to sleep rough every night.
There is a segment of our society that will assert that homelessness is a choice. I don't doubt it is an honestly held belief but I am almost certain it is born of ignorance. "Choice" is relative. The kinds of choices I have made in my life are a world away from those that severely housing-deprived people have faced. While I pondered what to study at university, other teenagers wondered whether living on the streets would be safer than staying in a house where violence and abuse were the norm.