A glimpse inside 3 wandering lives
Rachel Pritchett
Sun Staff
HOME IS A PARKING LOT
Andrew, no last name offered, was sitting by the window recently after finishing his meal at The Lord's Neighborhood Diner at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Bremerton. Sun streaming in makes the deep creases in his face appear even deeper. A cap is pulled down tightly over his head.
"I have a home -- the parking lot down the street," he said. Two other men lived with him, he said, and it had been at that location for two days.
Like many homeless men, Andrew worked as a laborer, cutting trees in Eastern Washington. He's in Bremerton to complete some paperwork he hopes will lead to a monthly $515 Supplemental Security Income check, paid to individuals who are poor and disabled.
"I'm going to rent me a house. I'm going to buy me a TV. I'm going to live like a human being," he promised.
THE TRAVELER
Robert Barker prefers the word "traveler" to "homeless."
That he has done over the years, traveling 80,000 miles on his Harley-Davidson throughout his native East Coast, often with a white German shepherd behind him on the seat. "He was always saying, 'faster, faster,' " Barker remembered.
Homeless on and off for much of his adult life, Barker, 48, now lives in an '85 Chevy van in Bremerton with his newest dogs, a matched pair of highly trained white German shepherds.
Small and personable but wary, Barker hides a dollar bill and a pop can outside his van, then calls Princess and Bika out, ordering them to find the items. They do. He raises a fist; they sit. The dogs jump back into the van on command.
So as not to attract the police, Barker moves his van weekly, finding a sunny spot in parking lots or on side streets to stay a few degrees warmer. He eats regularly at church-sponsored meals, and gets money when he needs it through Labor Ready, a temporary employment agency that pays the same day. When he's flush, he gets gas for the van or visits a laundromat.
Barker shuns government assistance, saying he'd rather avoid paperwork that goes nowhere.
"Never had a dime from the government," he said. "I can go two weeks with 75 cents."
He had a chance to inherit the family business, a New Jersey greenhouse and produce venture. But he and his father clashed and Barker hit the road.
Like other homeless people, he visits local libraries to stay warm and to use the Internet. Up until recently, Barker had his own Web site.
When he's in his van and he gets too cold, he climbs into the sleeping bag in the back and goes to sleep.
Barker vows to maintain his lifestyle "until the right woman comes along." When asked where he'd like to be at age 65, he responded "wealthy," "retired" and "on a motorcycle with dogs."
WEST COAST WANDERER
Dawn Schmidt, a pleasant, heavy-set single mother with brown hair, describes herself and her family as West Coast nomads, staying at places just for a while, then moving on.
She and her three children, ages 6, 11 and 13, her disabled mother and a friend arrived in Bremerton six months ago. Like many new arrivals, they first tried the Alive and St. Vincent de Paul shelters for women and children, but found them full.
Her car, stuffed with all their possessions, was impounded shortly after they arrived, and Schmidt, 30, lacked the money to retrieve it. They soon found themselves living in a tent at Illahee State Park, with some local churches helping pay the $15 nightly fee.
"Delsie has helped up a lot," she said of Delsie Peebles, who runs The Lord's Neighborhood Diner, a large weekend feeding, and who helps many of the homeless.
Finally, she found housing at Parkwood Terrace in Bremerton, and the six of them are managing to get by on $642 monthly in welfare and the $565 her mother receives in disability.
"It did get really tough," Schmidt said of being homeless with kids. "Maybe it'll instill something in them."
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Lost in the shadows
Lost in the shadows
Rachel Pritchett
Sun Staff
Oy! Oy! Oy! Alfie Susman yells out the universal code among squatters to announce his arrival at a vacant ramshackle house behind the Silverdale Safeway.
Hearing no reply -- one Oy! to enter and two to get lost -- Susman, 40, and close friend Jason Bostwick, 19, cautiously dip in under a partially opened garage door.
Susman and Bostwick are giving a tour of their former squat. They were at this white, boarded-up house for a few months last summer and fall. It is well-known to teen squatters.
Inside, litter is strewn about standing water in the pitch-black basement. Stepping across strategically placed pieces of wood and cans, they head upstairs with flashlights. Jason, clad in his signature brown jacket, chains and a studded black cap he shoplifted, is angry that someone has shoved a refrigerator in front of the door. He shoves it back.
They make their way through the cold, bare house.
A corner bedroom has been tagged by a recent occupant. Pornographic drawings and anti-Christian messages jump out from the walls. Susman, a high priest elder in Wicca, a form of witchcraft, says a Satanist drew them.
Disgusted, he shares this rule among squatters: Don't tag, as it causes the police to come looking.
Small white candles are arranged in a circle on the floor of an adjoining room. Susman recognizes this, too, as a ritual Wiccan circle of life.
Alternative beliefs are popular among homeless teens who have rejected their families' values and are searching for an identity. A few of the 36 homeless young people with whom Susman has regular contact are Wiccans, a practice he fosters. Thirty of the 36 are from Silverdale.
Later, Susman remembers stealing food from nearby grocery stores when he and Bostwick lived in the squat.
"The only way for us to survive -- we had to have something," he said. He blames Silverdale for not having a feeding program for the homeless.
HOMELESS TEEN NEIGHBORHOOD
A few days later, Susman, who was at the time the assistant director of outreach for the Silverdale unit of StandUp For Kids, let a group of StandUp trainees to other squats near the old house, teaching them about the squatter's life he had known for 22 years.
StandUp is an organization dedicated to helping homeless teens.
The trainees peer into large Clear Creek culvert. Water gurgles past a rocky flat area. Recent squatters here included a young man known as Jesus and a couple of teenage boys.
Susman has a no-drugs policy in his squats, but this spot has no rules, explains Patrick Taylor, outreach director for StandUp For Kids. There are no squatters here at the moment.
That's another rule in the universal squatters' code. "You leave early and you get back late," Susman told his trainees. You wear hoodies -- black hooded sweatshirts -- to disguise your identity.
Susman and his trainees walk through mud and grass to another squatters' den -- this one a dilapidated red outbuilding.
When Susman's and Taylor's trainees are finished, they'll go searching on their own for homeless teens, giving them blankets, 911 cell phones, snack packs and hygiene kits.
Many of West Sound's homeless teens now are couch-surfing, staying with friends until the welcome wears thin, then moving on.
AN ENIGMATIC LEADER
Susman's no choirboy.
His Wicca association alone would be enough to chill many parents, to say nothing of his past.
Susman has spent the last half of his life in squats in 49 states, but now has an apartment in East Bremerton.
High adventure and few responsibilities have been the reward for this Colorado native. Susman was married five times; he has seven children, ages 3 to 21. He has little contact with them.
He is clean and sober now, but takes medication for manic depression and schizophrenia, which he developed from many years on hallucinogenic drugs. He said he receives $564 in Social Security disability and another $107 in food stamps.
What Susman does have is a rapport with West Sound's homeless youth, say StandUp For Kids organizers.
His stories captivate them. Trained as a chef, he frequently cooks meals of goulash and baked chicken for them at his apartment. He counsels them, assists them in crisis and supplies his young charges with food and survival supplies gathered by StandUp For Kids.
Many of them are in alternatives schools, Susman said. Kitsap Mall is a central meeting place where they can get out of the weather. Other preferred haunts include the All-Star Lanes coffee shop and a couple of others on Callow Avenue in Bremerton, Rush's and Psycho Betty's.
They "spange" for spare change in front of Silverdale grocery stores, perhaps using the money to hear a punk band at Rush's that night. Beer, vodka, pot and downers such as Vicodin are popular intoxicants, although a few of the young people are into meth. Unlike their counterparts from Seattle or Tacoma, they have no weapons, save for some small knives and scissors.
To get by, they steal, spange or sell drugs or sex, Susman said.
Of the sex, StandUp's Taylor said, "It's an easy way of survival."
CONVENTION CENTER SQUAT
Susman and Bostwick are gutter punks, streetwise squatters sometimes dressed in black hoodies with patches, Jnco jeans and steel-toed boots. The pair came here last year from Seattle, where they met, to be with another friend.
"Silverdale is soooo nice. We fell in love with Silverdale," Susman said.
"People are more tolerant here, Bostwick agreed.
Bostwick is couch-surfing in West Bremerton with a Wiccan couple and their child.
Before coming to Silverdale, he squatted in several downtown Seattle locations.
Incredibly, Bostwick and Susman together had a squat at the Washington State Convention & Trade Center, they said. It was up the main stairs, then up a small tree, over a wall, behind a partition and inside a tent.
"That was the most killer spot in the world. No one knew about it," Bostwick said. But center security spotted them after a week.
Raised by his mother and stepfather in south King County, Bostwick quit military school at 16 and began to wander. His stepfather treated him like "an outcast." His mother officially kicked him out at 18.
Now, Bostwick spends part of his days studying Wicca under Susman.
"It teaches you to be nice," he said. He's cast his first spell -- for his coven of friends to get some money -- and is awaiting the result.
Bostwick also watches the back door at one of the Callow Avenue coffee shops during nights when punk bands are playing. He hangs out with friends at the mall.
He gets $142 a month in food stamps and occasionally Dumpster dives and shoplifts to help make ends meet.
Bostwick regrets dropping out of school.
"If I hadn't left school, I'd have a good job right now," he said. He dreams of becoming a model or singer.
He is bisexual, not unusual for homeless teens.
Between 20 percent and 40 percent of homeless teens are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered, the national StandUp for Kids group estimates.
A TOUGH TRANSITION
Susman knows that some homeless teens, once accustomed to travel, adventure and no responsibility, will have a tough time making it back into the mainstream. "It's a challenge for young kids," he said.
A few, like Susman, never will.
Susman wants the Silverdale community to build a teen drop-in center. And he's joined the chorus of others calling for a Silverdale network of free meals for the poor and homeless.
He has harsh words for parents.
"It bewilders me how some don't even care. And it happens a lot."
Just a few weeks after the interviews for this story, Susman disappeared after packing all his belongings and leaving without telling anyone where he was going or why. He left his StandUp shirt behind.
Rachel Pritchett
Sun Staff
Oy! Oy! Oy! Alfie Susman yells out the universal code among squatters to announce his arrival at a vacant ramshackle house behind the Silverdale Safeway.
Hearing no reply -- one Oy! to enter and two to get lost -- Susman, 40, and close friend Jason Bostwick, 19, cautiously dip in under a partially opened garage door.
Susman and Bostwick are giving a tour of their former squat. They were at this white, boarded-up house for a few months last summer and fall. It is well-known to teen squatters.
Inside, litter is strewn about standing water in the pitch-black basement. Stepping across strategically placed pieces of wood and cans, they head upstairs with flashlights. Jason, clad in his signature brown jacket, chains and a studded black cap he shoplifted, is angry that someone has shoved a refrigerator in front of the door. He shoves it back.
They make their way through the cold, bare house.
A corner bedroom has been tagged by a recent occupant. Pornographic drawings and anti-Christian messages jump out from the walls. Susman, a high priest elder in Wicca, a form of witchcraft, says a Satanist drew them.
Disgusted, he shares this rule among squatters: Don't tag, as it causes the police to come looking.
Small white candles are arranged in a circle on the floor of an adjoining room. Susman recognizes this, too, as a ritual Wiccan circle of life.
Alternative beliefs are popular among homeless teens who have rejected their families' values and are searching for an identity. A few of the 36 homeless young people with whom Susman has regular contact are Wiccans, a practice he fosters. Thirty of the 36 are from Silverdale.
Later, Susman remembers stealing food from nearby grocery stores when he and Bostwick lived in the squat.
"The only way for us to survive -- we had to have something," he said. He blames Silverdale for not having a feeding program for the homeless.
HOMELESS TEEN NEIGHBORHOOD
A few days later, Susman, who was at the time the assistant director of outreach for the Silverdale unit of StandUp For Kids, let a group of StandUp trainees to other squats near the old house, teaching them about the squatter's life he had known for 22 years.
StandUp is an organization dedicated to helping homeless teens.
The trainees peer into large Clear Creek culvert. Water gurgles past a rocky flat area. Recent squatters here included a young man known as Jesus and a couple of teenage boys.
Susman has a no-drugs policy in his squats, but this spot has no rules, explains Patrick Taylor, outreach director for StandUp For Kids. There are no squatters here at the moment.
That's another rule in the universal squatters' code. "You leave early and you get back late," Susman told his trainees. You wear hoodies -- black hooded sweatshirts -- to disguise your identity.
Susman and his trainees walk through mud and grass to another squatters' den -- this one a dilapidated red outbuilding.
When Susman's and Taylor's trainees are finished, they'll go searching on their own for homeless teens, giving them blankets, 911 cell phones, snack packs and hygiene kits.
Many of West Sound's homeless teens now are couch-surfing, staying with friends until the welcome wears thin, then moving on.
AN ENIGMATIC LEADER
Susman's no choirboy.
His Wicca association alone would be enough to chill many parents, to say nothing of his past.
Susman has spent the last half of his life in squats in 49 states, but now has an apartment in East Bremerton.
High adventure and few responsibilities have been the reward for this Colorado native. Susman was married five times; he has seven children, ages 3 to 21. He has little contact with them.
He is clean and sober now, but takes medication for manic depression and schizophrenia, which he developed from many years on hallucinogenic drugs. He said he receives $564 in Social Security disability and another $107 in food stamps.
What Susman does have is a rapport with West Sound's homeless youth, say StandUp For Kids organizers.
His stories captivate them. Trained as a chef, he frequently cooks meals of goulash and baked chicken for them at his apartment. He counsels them, assists them in crisis and supplies his young charges with food and survival supplies gathered by StandUp For Kids.
Many of them are in alternatives schools, Susman said. Kitsap Mall is a central meeting place where they can get out of the weather. Other preferred haunts include the All-Star Lanes coffee shop and a couple of others on Callow Avenue in Bremerton, Rush's and Psycho Betty's.
They "spange" for spare change in front of Silverdale grocery stores, perhaps using the money to hear a punk band at Rush's that night. Beer, vodka, pot and downers such as Vicodin are popular intoxicants, although a few of the young people are into meth. Unlike their counterparts from Seattle or Tacoma, they have no weapons, save for some small knives and scissors.
To get by, they steal, spange or sell drugs or sex, Susman said.
Of the sex, StandUp's Taylor said, "It's an easy way of survival."
CONVENTION CENTER SQUAT
Susman and Bostwick are gutter punks, streetwise squatters sometimes dressed in black hoodies with patches, Jnco jeans and steel-toed boots. The pair came here last year from Seattle, where they met, to be with another friend.
"Silverdale is soooo nice. We fell in love with Silverdale," Susman said.
"People are more tolerant here, Bostwick agreed.
Bostwick is couch-surfing in West Bremerton with a Wiccan couple and their child.
Before coming to Silverdale, he squatted in several downtown Seattle locations.
Incredibly, Bostwick and Susman together had a squat at the Washington State Convention & Trade Center, they said. It was up the main stairs, then up a small tree, over a wall, behind a partition and inside a tent.
"That was the most killer spot in the world. No one knew about it," Bostwick said. But center security spotted them after a week.
Raised by his mother and stepfather in south King County, Bostwick quit military school at 16 and began to wander. His stepfather treated him like "an outcast." His mother officially kicked him out at 18.
Now, Bostwick spends part of his days studying Wicca under Susman.
"It teaches you to be nice," he said. He's cast his first spell -- for his coven of friends to get some money -- and is awaiting the result.
Bostwick also watches the back door at one of the Callow Avenue coffee shops during nights when punk bands are playing. He hangs out with friends at the mall.
He gets $142 a month in food stamps and occasionally Dumpster dives and shoplifts to help make ends meet.
Bostwick regrets dropping out of school.
"If I hadn't left school, I'd have a good job right now," he said. He dreams of becoming a model or singer.
He is bisexual, not unusual for homeless teens.
Between 20 percent and 40 percent of homeless teens are gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered, the national StandUp for Kids group estimates.
A TOUGH TRANSITION
Susman knows that some homeless teens, once accustomed to travel, adventure and no responsibility, will have a tough time making it back into the mainstream. "It's a challenge for young kids," he said.
A few, like Susman, never will.
Susman wants the Silverdale community to build a teen drop-in center. And he's joined the chorus of others calling for a Silverdale network of free meals for the poor and homeless.
He has harsh words for parents.
"It bewilders me how some don't even care. And it happens a lot."
Just a few weeks after the interviews for this story, Susman disappeared after packing all his belongings and leaving without telling anyone where he was going or why. He left his StandUp shirt behind.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Tenters endure in nearly all corners of the county
enters endure in nearly all corners of the county
Rachel Pritchett
Sun Staff
Maria, 21, in her ninth month of pregnancy, and her boyfriend, Gentry, 28, hope love will conquer all. After being evicted from her Tacoma apartment, the pair came to Bremerton. For a month and a half, they've lived in a large tent under a madrone tree on a lot in East Bremerton. They hope they're in a real place by the time the baby comes.
"It might not happen," said Maria, a determined women who receives $349 a month in welfare and who is training to work at a new Jack in the Box on Kitsap Way.
Gentry said he lacks a Social Security card and cannot find work.
She has parents here.
"Me and my dad, we ain't getting along right now," she said. Her father thinks Gentry is a loser. She refuses to trade the man she loves for a roof over her head.
Food and equipment for their tent comes from Delsie Peebles of The Lord's Neighborhood Diner. The couple enjoys watching "The Simpsons" on their battery-power television. Neighborhood residents drop by with food and a Bible.
While most homeless people in West Sound are drawn to Bremerton, with its extensive web of free meals, stores and social services, there is a scattering of tenters throughout.
They comprise a small fraction of the homeless community, but one that never disappears. The tent population often is on the move, displaced by complaints from neighbors, police and development.
In January, a tenter was living at Island Center on Bainbridge Island, according to Ellen Johnson, director of clinical services at Helpline House.
But their ranks on the island have diminished, due to the intense development in Winslow, she said. Not so long ago, they lived in the woods behind Helpline House, Safeway and Ace Hardware, Johnson said. Apartments, houses and office buildings now stand where trees once did.
The story's the same for tenters in Poulsbo, most of them squeezed out from their customary spots around the intersection of Highway 305 and Finn Hill Road.
"The Olhava development has displaced people," said Tricia Sullivan, North Kitsap Fishline executive director, though one man still is known to have a tent there.
Tenters occasionally live in the vast tracts of forested land in North Kitsap overseen by Olympic Resource Management.
Not many live in the forested area of South Kitsap, apparently because it's too far from places they can find food and supplies.
In North Mason, Guatemalan and Hispanic brush pickers and Christmas tree-farm workers live in tents, cars and vans on the plateau above Tahuya.
All over, homeless tenters find refuge at state parks, where they can stay for 10 days without moving in the summer; 20 in the winter.
Rachel Pritchett
Sun Staff
Maria, 21, in her ninth month of pregnancy, and her boyfriend, Gentry, 28, hope love will conquer all. After being evicted from her Tacoma apartment, the pair came to Bremerton. For a month and a half, they've lived in a large tent under a madrone tree on a lot in East Bremerton. They hope they're in a real place by the time the baby comes.
"It might not happen," said Maria, a determined women who receives $349 a month in welfare and who is training to work at a new Jack in the Box on Kitsap Way.
Gentry said he lacks a Social Security card and cannot find work.
She has parents here.
"Me and my dad, we ain't getting along right now," she said. Her father thinks Gentry is a loser. She refuses to trade the man she loves for a roof over her head.
Food and equipment for their tent comes from Delsie Peebles of The Lord's Neighborhood Diner. The couple enjoys watching "The Simpsons" on their battery-power television. Neighborhood residents drop by with food and a Bible.
While most homeless people in West Sound are drawn to Bremerton, with its extensive web of free meals, stores and social services, there is a scattering of tenters throughout.
They comprise a small fraction of the homeless community, but one that never disappears. The tent population often is on the move, displaced by complaints from neighbors, police and development.
In January, a tenter was living at Island Center on Bainbridge Island, according to Ellen Johnson, director of clinical services at Helpline House.
But their ranks on the island have diminished, due to the intense development in Winslow, she said. Not so long ago, they lived in the woods behind Helpline House, Safeway and Ace Hardware, Johnson said. Apartments, houses and office buildings now stand where trees once did.
The story's the same for tenters in Poulsbo, most of them squeezed out from their customary spots around the intersection of Highway 305 and Finn Hill Road.
"The Olhava development has displaced people," said Tricia Sullivan, North Kitsap Fishline executive director, though one man still is known to have a tent there.
Tenters occasionally live in the vast tracts of forested land in North Kitsap overseen by Olympic Resource Management.
Not many live in the forested area of South Kitsap, apparently because it's too far from places they can find food and supplies.
In North Mason, Guatemalan and Hispanic brush pickers and Christmas tree-farm workers live in tents, cars and vans on the plateau above Tahuya.
All over, homeless tenters find refuge at state parks, where they can stay for 10 days without moving in the summer; 20 in the winter.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Number of homeless children continues to rise in Kitsap By Maks Goldenshteyn Published Sunday, April 3, 2011 Higher than usual enrollment in Kitsap Community Resources' early education programs suggests that the number of homeless children in Kitsap has continued to rise in recent years. With three months left in the current program year, KCR has 521 participants enrolled in its three early-learning programs for children of low-income families. The share of homeless children enrolled has swelled to 18 percent, up 5 percent from the 2009-2010 program year when 13 percent of the 563 children enrolled were homeless. At 18 percent, the number of homeless children is about twice the state average for the current program year, according to Katy Warren with the Washington State Association of Head Start and ECEAP, a Bellevue-based early learning advocacy group. "I've been looking at other parts of the state and Kitsap isn't the very highest I've seen so far," Warren said. "But it's definitely among the highest." Enrollment figures from KCR's Early Head Start — a program for children up to 5 years old — are more striking. Of the 102 participants enrolled so far, 25 percent are homeless. That's up 5 percent from last year. To be eligible for either the state-funded Early Childhood Education and Assistance Program or the federal Head Start program, a child's family must be at or near the federal poverty level — which is an annual income of about $22,000 for a family of four. Aside from preparing low-income children for school, Head Start families can receive housing subsidies, referrals to shelters, medical services and assistance with food and clothing. Modeled after Head Start, ECEAP provides education, health and nutrition screenings and family support. Research shows that homeless children are more likely than their peers to develop emotional and behavioral problems. Instability and increased levels of stress often manifest themselves in higher incidence of mental disorders and behaviors like hoarding and aggression, according to information from the state association. It's believed that early education programs can help deter those problems. Michelle Daugherty, KCR family services support coordinator, said the apparent uptick in homelessness in Kitsap stems from the recession. In some instances, families were evicted because landlords had their properties foreclosed. Others lost their jobs, or couldn't keep pace with the rising cost of housing. Recent applicants to KCR's programs include two survivors of domestic violence and their children. The mothers fled their homes, but now find themselves without a breadwinner. Another woman, who recently spent several months behind bars, shares a small home with 10 other adults and kids. Her family also meets the definition of homeless. "They're trying to do what's right for them and their children with no income at all," Daugherty said. Homeless advocate Beverly Kincaid, former president of the United Way of Kitsap County, said KCR's heightened enrollment only begins to tell the story of homelessness at the local level. When KCR received a special two-year stimulus grant to help prevent homelessness and rapid rehousing, the request for KCR services spiked with the added resources, Kincaid said. "Once the information was 'on the streets' that KCR had funds available, people would naturally show up for homelessness assistance," she wrote in an email. A more telling example of Kitsap's rising homelessness, she said, is the wait-list at Benedict House, the only shelter and transitional residence for homeless men in Bremerton. And there are other indicators of rising homelessness. According to data provided by Kitsap County Health District, the number of people requiring food stamps has gradually increased in recent years and requests-for-assistance calls to the county's 2-1-1 system by people identifying themselves as homeless also is up.
Number of homeless children continues to rise in Kitsap
By Maks Goldenshteyn
Published Sunday, April 3, 2011
Higher than usual enrollment in Kitsap Community Resources' early education programs suggests that the number of homeless children in Kitsap has continued to rise in recent years.
With three months left in the current program year, KCR has 521 participants enrolled in its three early-learning programs for children of low-income families. The share of homeless children enrolled has swelled to 18 percent, up 5 percent from the 2009-2010 program year when 13 percent of the 563 children enrolled were homeless.
At 18 percent, the number of homeless children is about twice the state average for the current program year, according to Katy Warren with the Washington State Association of Head Start and ECEAP, a Bellevue-based early learning advocacy group.
"I've been looking at other parts of the state and Kitsap isn't the very highest I've seen so far," Warren said. "But it's definitely among the highest."
Enrollment figures from KCR's Early Head Start — a program for children up to 5 years old — are more striking. Of the 102 participants enrolled so far, 25 percent are homeless. That's up 5 percent from last year.
To be eligible for either the state-funded Early Childhood Education and Assistance Program or the federal Head Start program, a child's family must be at or near the federal poverty level — which is an annual income of about $22,000 for a family of four.
Aside from preparing low-income children for school, Head Start families can receive housing subsidies, referrals to shelters, medical services and assistance with food and clothing.
Modeled after Head Start, ECEAP provides education, health and nutrition screenings and family support.
Research shows that homeless children are more likely than their peers to develop emotional and behavioral problems. Instability and increased levels of stress often manifest themselves in higher incidence of mental disorders and behaviors like hoarding and aggression, according to information from the state association.
It's believed that early education programs can help deter those problems.
Michelle Daugherty, KCR family services support coordinator, said the apparent uptick in homelessness in Kitsap stems from the recession. In some instances, families were evicted because landlords had their properties foreclosed. Others lost their jobs, or couldn't keep pace with the rising cost of housing.
Recent applicants to KCR's programs include two survivors of domestic violence and their children. The mothers fled their homes, but now find themselves without a breadwinner.
Another woman, who recently spent several months behind bars, shares a small home with 10 other adults and kids. Her family also meets the definition of homeless.
"They're trying to do what's right for them and their children with no income at all," Daugherty said.
Homeless advocate Beverly Kincaid, former president of the United Way of Kitsap County, said KCR's heightened enrollment only begins to tell the story of homelessness at the local level.
When KCR received a special two-year stimulus grant to help prevent homelessness and rapid rehousing, the request for KCR services spiked with the added resources, Kincaid said.
"Once the information was 'on the streets' that KCR had funds available, people would naturally show up for homelessness assistance," she wrote in an email.
A more telling example of Kitsap's rising homelessness, she said, is the wait-list at Benedict House, the only shelter and transitional residence for homeless men in Bremerton.
And there are other indicators of rising homelessness. According to data provided by Kitsap County Health District, the number of people requiring food stamps has gradually increased in recent years and requests-for-assistance calls to the county's 2-1-1 system by people identifying themselves as homeless also is up.
By Maks Goldenshteyn
Published Sunday, April 3, 2011
Higher than usual enrollment in Kitsap Community Resources' early education programs suggests that the number of homeless children in Kitsap has continued to rise in recent years.
With three months left in the current program year, KCR has 521 participants enrolled in its three early-learning programs for children of low-income families. The share of homeless children enrolled has swelled to 18 percent, up 5 percent from the 2009-2010 program year when 13 percent of the 563 children enrolled were homeless.
At 18 percent, the number of homeless children is about twice the state average for the current program year, according to Katy Warren with the Washington State Association of Head Start and ECEAP, a Bellevue-based early learning advocacy group.
"I've been looking at other parts of the state and Kitsap isn't the very highest I've seen so far," Warren said. "But it's definitely among the highest."
Enrollment figures from KCR's Early Head Start — a program for children up to 5 years old — are more striking. Of the 102 participants enrolled so far, 25 percent are homeless. That's up 5 percent from last year.
To be eligible for either the state-funded Early Childhood Education and Assistance Program or the federal Head Start program, a child's family must be at or near the federal poverty level — which is an annual income of about $22,000 for a family of four.
Aside from preparing low-income children for school, Head Start families can receive housing subsidies, referrals to shelters, medical services and assistance with food and clothing.
Modeled after Head Start, ECEAP provides education, health and nutrition screenings and family support.
Research shows that homeless children are more likely than their peers to develop emotional and behavioral problems. Instability and increased levels of stress often manifest themselves in higher incidence of mental disorders and behaviors like hoarding and aggression, according to information from the state association.
It's believed that early education programs can help deter those problems.
Michelle Daugherty, KCR family services support coordinator, said the apparent uptick in homelessness in Kitsap stems from the recession. In some instances, families were evicted because landlords had their properties foreclosed. Others lost their jobs, or couldn't keep pace with the rising cost of housing.
Recent applicants to KCR's programs include two survivors of domestic violence and their children. The mothers fled their homes, but now find themselves without a breadwinner.
Another woman, who recently spent several months behind bars, shares a small home with 10 other adults and kids. Her family also meets the definition of homeless.
"They're trying to do what's right for them and their children with no income at all," Daugherty said.
Homeless advocate Beverly Kincaid, former president of the United Way of Kitsap County, said KCR's heightened enrollment only begins to tell the story of homelessness at the local level.
When KCR received a special two-year stimulus grant to help prevent homelessness and rapid rehousing, the request for KCR services spiked with the added resources, Kincaid said.
"Once the information was 'on the streets' that KCR had funds available, people would naturally show up for homelessness assistance," she wrote in an email.
A more telling example of Kitsap's rising homelessness, she said, is the wait-list at Benedict House, the only shelter and transitional residence for homeless men in Bremerton.
And there are other indicators of rising homelessness. According to data provided by Kitsap County Health District, the number of people requiring food stamps has gradually increased in recent years and requests-for-assistance calls to the county's 2-1-1 system by people identifying themselves as homeless also is up.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
OUR HIDDEN HOMELESS: KITSAP STRUGGLES TO SOLVE A GROWING CRISIS
Items left behind hint at who's stayed where
written by:Rachel Pritchett
Behind the strip mall at the north end of Bremerton that contains Rite Aid and Kmart is a 22-acre greenbelt originally set aside to buffer homes from the Wheaton Way businesses.
But the area designated to provide privacy for homeowners is also attracting tenters who are dependent on nearby stores and social services.
The greenbelt has become "a double-edged sword," said Bremerton Police Sgt. Wendy Davis.
The property's owner, Merit Company of Tacoma, has told the city no one should be there, said city code enforcer Janet Lunceford. Merit has signed paperwork that makes it easier for police to arrest tenters for criminal trespass.
For the moment, tenters here are gone. But a January visit with a group of social-service workers suggested tenters were there recently.
Rudy Muriel, a WorkSource Kitsap County youth counselor, peered into a tiny water-soaked tent and recognized a job-training manual from his office, along with a Stephen King novel, pop cans and clothes. Muriel worried the young person who lived there might have been one of his clients.
A sleeping bag was slung over a branch at the next site, which had a bigger tent and grill. Perched high on another branch was the unexpected sight of a cheerful stuffed puppy with a Santa hat.
"It's so important to have toys when you don't have a home," another WorkSource youth counselor, Laura Hyde, said of the number of stuffed animals that appear at tenters' sites.
Hyde, at one time homeless herself, talks about the strong ties among the tenters.
"You take care of each other," she said. "What you don't have, maybe someone in your circle does."
"The people that are not in relationships are the ones who are truly suffering. And they don't live long," she said.
A third tent site was strewn with water jugs, a razor, a stuffed bunny, a corncob pipe, cans and wrappers from high-protein foods such as jerky and sardines, and a little girl's hair barrette.
"I've had it this bad," Hyde said sadly.
Items left behind hint at who's stayed where
written by:Rachel Pritchett
Behind the strip mall at the north end of Bremerton that contains Rite Aid and Kmart is a 22-acre greenbelt originally set aside to buffer homes from the Wheaton Way businesses.
But the area designated to provide privacy for homeowners is also attracting tenters who are dependent on nearby stores and social services.
The greenbelt has become "a double-edged sword," said Bremerton Police Sgt. Wendy Davis.
The property's owner, Merit Company of Tacoma, has told the city no one should be there, said city code enforcer Janet Lunceford. Merit has signed paperwork that makes it easier for police to arrest tenters for criminal trespass.
For the moment, tenters here are gone. But a January visit with a group of social-service workers suggested tenters were there recently.
Rudy Muriel, a WorkSource Kitsap County youth counselor, peered into a tiny water-soaked tent and recognized a job-training manual from his office, along with a Stephen King novel, pop cans and clothes. Muriel worried the young person who lived there might have been one of his clients.
A sleeping bag was slung over a branch at the next site, which had a bigger tent and grill. Perched high on another branch was the unexpected sight of a cheerful stuffed puppy with a Santa hat.
"It's so important to have toys when you don't have a home," another WorkSource youth counselor, Laura Hyde, said of the number of stuffed animals that appear at tenters' sites.
Hyde, at one time homeless herself, talks about the strong ties among the tenters.
"You take care of each other," she said. "What you don't have, maybe someone in your circle does."
"The people that are not in relationships are the ones who are truly suffering. And they don't live long," she said.
A third tent site was strewn with water jugs, a razor, a stuffed bunny, a corncob pipe, cans and wrappers from high-protein foods such as jerky and sardines, and a little girl's hair barrette.
"I've had it this bad," Hyde said sadly.
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