StreetViews

This is a continuation of the discussion that was started in Cleveland's Homeless Grapevine streetpaper about shelters, the "tent city" alternative, and the common assumptions about substance abuse among by the homeless which continually pop up in all discussions of such things. I believe that my experience in Eugene, especially with the Centennial Car Camp, can provide some food for thought on these matters.

Centennial had a semi-enlightened policy regarding substance use and abuse, which was actually a compromise between what the governments (who were bankrolling the camp) wanted, and what advocates for the campers presented as being reasonable. The staff was required to police the camp for illegal drugs. Alcohol was treated somewhat differently because it is a LEGAL drug, but still a huge uphill battle had to be fought for the right of campers to drink inside of their tents and vehicles (as long as they didn't take it out into the parking lot).

By and large, the rules regarding "substance abuse" in homeless shelters across the country lump together all mind-altering substances as if there were no differences between them. In actuality, there are four main categories of mind-altering drugs, each one having its own features:

1) Hard drugs, which are inherently addictive, truly harmful and deadly, and illegal.

2) Marijuana, which is not a harmful drug but a medicinal herb, and never should have been made illegal.

3) Alcohol, which is legal, and may or may not be addictive or harmful depending on the individual's body chemistry or the way they use it.

4) Psychedelics, which are illegal, non-addictive, and might have unhealthy or dangerous side effects.

Government-run camps all too often prohibit all these different substances as if there were no distinctions between use and abuse, legal and illegal, or helpful and harmful.

Now, Eugene has its strong liberal elements, but is also belongs to the tough-on-crime state of Oregon. Each of the four governments that kicked in money for the car camp (the state of Oregon, Lane County, and the cities of Eugene and Springfield) had its own things to say about how the camp should be run, and its own set of concerns. While the cities, for example, were concerned with observance of their local ordinances, protecting and parks and such, the state had a major interest in chasing down the users and dealers of hard drugs, specifically methamphetamine which is the biggest problem drug in Oregon. So the staff was saddled with the task of monitoring the camp for these drugs, thus the "need" for 24-hour supervision--even though the majority of the campers had nothing to do with any illegal drug trade. That was the deal: the four governments would only agree to fund the camp if the paid babysitters would take on the much-hated role of "drug cops".

Ok, so much for the hard stuff. Now I will deal with the much more common and pervasive drug of alcohol. This subject in particular is one I have brushed past many times in my writing about homelessness, but never really looked squarely in the face. Yet this little friend has been present in my life throughout my entire career as a homeless advocacy writer. There is so much unfinished business regarding this controversial substance that I feel the need to give considerable space to it here.

All kinds of assumptions are made about the person who drinks visibly in public that are not necessarily true. Homeless people who drink are much more likely to be branded "alcoholic" than those who can drink in the privacy of a home. Why is this? Why assume that just because a person is homeless, that automatically means they're the type that can't handle alcohol? That's a pretty broad assumption. A broad-brush stereotype that leaves people like myself invisible.

The reasons for these assumptions actually go further back in time that one might imagine. That's why it's not enough to make counter-arguments with statistics of how many homeless people are NOT alcoholics or drug addicts. We need to take a much closer look at those older myths about "the lowly people" which suggested that substance abuse is only a lower-class phenomenon, because the typical shelter rules against all drugs and alcohol are based more on those archaic stereotypes than on the medical realities of drug addiction and alcoholism.

This concept is at least centuries old, and probably ages old: that people who lack material wealth are morally inferior to those who possess it. From that thinking stems all the common biases and preconceptions about the poor, including the notion that they are prone to excessive drinking due to their moral weakness. And this idea is quickly paired with the belief that said excessive drinking always leads to violence and mindlessly unruly behavior, because the "lowly people" are considered ill-mannered by nature.

Long before the word "alcoholic" ever entered the American vocabulary, the word "drunkard" was in common usage, later shortened to "drunk". There were various laws in the 19th century that lumped together "vagrants and common drunkards" and the like. An examination of these types of laws and their applications can reveal how alcohol drinking by the lower classes was stereotyped and broad-brushed so as to encourage lazy prejudicial thinking on these matters. Then one might see how this lazy thinking has carried right over into present-day conceptions of homeless "drunks" and the resulting laws and shelter rules designed to keep their behavior in check.

But, one may ask, what about the people who really DO have substance abuse problems?

The concept of alcoholism is a more recent and more sophisticated idea, less than a century old. When one recognizes that the alcoholic person is diseased rather than morally weak or inferior, it can lead to more enlightened conclusions about what they need (i.e. medical treatment rather than punishment or "discipline".) But this thinking still doesn't go far enough, as it can encourage the broad-brush view of all drinking homeless people as "alcoholics" the same way they were all seen as "vagrants and common drunkards" in past centuries.

It is somewhat more advanced thinking to perceive the homeless drinker as an alcoholic whose life has spun out of control, resulting in the loss of their home. The A.A. Big Book abounds with stories of such people, and it is true that a great many of today's homeless fall into this category. HOWEVER, there are a great many MORE of the alcohol-drinking homeless who do NOT. It needs to be recognized that there are many different reasons for homelessness and also many different reasons a person might drink other than being alcoholic (or morally weak,) and that such a person might have needs other than rehab programs or A.A. meetings. I know because I am one of them myself. It is just plain wrong to jump to the conclusion that because the drinker is homeless, that automatically means their drinking is of the alcoholic variety.

We must also not forget that alcohol has been a LEGAL drug ever since Prohibition was repealed, which means that homeless drinkers over age 21 are not violating the law any more than housed drinkers over age 21. This fact is constantly overlooked in the making of those tiresome shelter rules that forbid alcohol right along with the illegal drugs. From a purely legalistic standpoint, there have to be VERY GOOD reasons for proscribing substances that are not ordinarily illegal, lest the makers of these rules be charged with overbreadth. The mere fact that a person is homeless is NOT a good reason!

Many people didn't even realize I drank when I was homeless, because I wasn't one of the ones who were "out there causing problems." I did my drinking in the privacy of my camper after all the day's business was done, so I didn't have to go out again for the rest of the night. Some of the Eugene cops knew this too, and it didn't seem to bother them. I had no arrest record for "drunk and disorderly" at any time ever, so they left my drinking alone. They were too busy chasing the hard drug dealers to waste time with people who they knew weren't causing any real trouble.

So, because people didn't even know I drank, they also didn't realize why I was insulted by the stereotype of all homeless people as crazy drunks, and by the assumption that all homeless drinkers are alcoholics. They didn't know or care why I needed this tranquilizer to ease my stress and fear. There might have been recognition that I was one of the many homeless women who were coming from domestic violence, but not that I needed my beer to medicate the post-traumatic stress condition I had as a result of it.

And consequently they didn't realize why I had to defend my rights as a peaceful adult drinker in those shelter situations where there were across-the-board rules against alcohol. If I needed my beer in the evening as a self-prescribed medicine for my PTSD and anxiety, I had as much right to use it as anyone who uses a prescription drug for a mental disorder such as depression, as long as I wasn't hurting anyone else.

I also drank socially at the NASNA (North American Street Newspaper Association) conferences I have gone to, and this certainly was not viewed in the same way as the drinking done by homeless people on thestreet. I could drink openly in those settings where I was called a "colleague", a "delegate", an "advocate", a "conferee", a "journalist" and the like. But when I returend to Eugene to resume living in my illegally-parked camper, I was once again a "transient" who had to hide the bottle. Such is the irony of being a homeless advocate who is also a homeless person at the same time!

So, these are some of my thoughts about substance use vs. abuse which I feel should be injected into the ongoing discussions on tent cities, if we want to create more enlightened policies that take into account the different needs homeless people might have. There may be more to follow, as the subject is still far from being exhausted.

February 11, 2002