99% Invisible - 479-According to Need wins duPont-Columbia Award

Episode Date: March 2, 2022

The Columbia Journalism School recently announced the 16 winners of the 2022 Alfred I. duPont-Columbia University Awards, including According to Need, a project of 99% Invisible produced by Katie Mingle.We listen back to a couple stories and get an update from Katie Mingle.According to Need wins duPont-Columbia Award

This is 99% In December of 2020, 99% Invisible released a special mini-series called, according to NEED. It was a riveting and revelatory exploration of the complex systems in place to help homeless people find housing in the Bay Area. Former 99PI senior producer Katie Mangle spent two years reporting the story for us, and a couple weeks ago, we learned that the series received a DuPont Columbia award honoring the best in journalism.

In celebration, we are replaying the first couple stories from according to need, plus I'll catch up with Katie Mangle, who now works at a new podcast venture called, my name right here. Serial? Serial. Never heard of it.

First, I want to start with congratulations, Katie, on winning the DuPont Columbia award. Thank you. It's so exciting. It's amazing. What does it look like? It looks like a big heavy baton that you could use to, like, bludgeon a burglar.

It's silver. it's really heavy. It's a solid thing to hold. So in celebration of according to need, winning the Deuteronque Columbia Award, we're gonna represent the prologue in the first episode, and then we should chat a little bit afterwards to see if there's any updates on the rest of the series.

Great, yeah. I live in the north part of Oakland near the border of Berkeley in Emoryville. Like other gentrifying places, this one was recently given a cutesy name by real estate agents hoping to attract new people to the area. No B for North Oakland, Berkeley, Emoryville. I'm not sure the name is stuck, but the new people certainly have. They've moved into the 1920s bungalows and craftsmen's, painting and landscaping, and refurbishing the neighborhood.

My girlfriend and I moved to this neighborhood last year, and we were thrilled to find our apartment, because it was two bedrooms with a nice big kitchen and a washer and dryer in the unit my first ever. All this and the rent was still under $3,000 a month, which for the area was actually extremely reasonable. I know, insane. But true. As we settled into the new place and started meeting neighbors, it didn't take long

before we realized that some of them were homeless. There was a guy sleeping in an old Lexus right in front of our house and another guy who seemed to be living in the cabin of a boat parked on the side of the road just across the street from us. I was already working on this series about homelessness. So of course I went to go say hi to the boat guy. Knock knock. Hey. Hey, how's it going? I'm your neighbor. Oh, how you doing? Good, how are you? I just took a bath soon. Right now I'm trying to get to work. I'm squinting up at my boat dwelling neighbor, his name is Michael. The vessel he lives on is a 15-foot speedboat with little sleeping cabin, and is named

Graba Dupa, or something like that. Graba Dupa. Graba Dupa, so yeah. Quick but important interjection here, I found out later that Graba Dupa means fat ass in Polish. Did you, who named it that? Yeah, my nephew. He just wanted a name on the water. They'd be on the CB. Grubba dupa coming through. Grubba dupa coming through.

Michael is wearing jeans and an orange fluorescent vest and holding a hard hat. I find out later he's an electrician on a construction crew for a new high rise in San Francisco. Hi, so I live right over there and I'm also a journalist and I've been doing a bunch of reporting on people who are living like RVs and cars and I haven't talked to anyone that's living in a boat. It's very fascinating. What I most want to know about Michael is where he's from, like where he lived before he was homeless. There's this persistent myth about homelessness, maybe especially persistent in California, that the homeless people here aren't really from here. Some people suggest that maybe folks came here from other areas

to take advantage of better social services or better weather. But the data doesn't support this. The last big survey done in Oakland found 78% of homeless respondents in the city of Oakland reported living in this county, Alameda County, at the time they became homeless. And most of the rest of the respondents just came from some other county in California. I suspect Michael is from Oakland,

maybe even from this neighborhood. My mother knew you were some peace, mom. We used to stay right there. Wait, where? You're in that house right there? I'm in the like beige, tall one. Yeah, that tall one? Yeah.

We used to stay there. You used to stay where I live? Yes. Me and my mother and my younger brother. In case you didn't catch that with the traffic noise, Michael is not only from this neighborhood, he used to live in my house. He tells me later he hasn't lived in that house for many years since the 1990s, and then he moved

right next door, lived there for a bunch of years, and then he left the neighborhood for a while, struggled with addiction, got clean, and finally he ended up back here on the Blocky Most Consider's home, and where he still has friends from the old days. A lot of us, me and Toe Free, wanted to sleep in the lexas. Yeah. His dad, he used to stay in one, two, three, four, about five houses down, they had a trucking company called Toe Free Trucking. Nice trucks. Oh my God. Of course, it makes perfect sense that most of Oakland's homeless population would be

from Oakland. If you have even the most cursory awareness of what's happened to the housing market here in the last decade, let's take the building I live in, where Michael used to live, as an example. It's a 2,200 square foot duplex in North Oakland. In 2009 the assessment records showed it was worth $105,000. Last year it was assessed at a million dollars and would probably sell for quite a bit more than that. In the last five years especially thousands of people like me have moved to the Bay Area for jobs and the cost of rent in places like Oakland and Berkeley

has skyrocketed. Low income African-American residents in the area have been the hardest hit by all of this. As new people have arrived, thousands of black people have moved away, and thousands have become homeless. My own neighborhood reflects this. My goal and I reflect this. My own neighborhood reflects this. Michael and I reflect this. But far beyond my block, you can see the effects of these economic and demographic shifts. Almost as if a tidal wave of wealth

has washed the poor people of the Bay Area out of their houses and into the streets. [♪ music playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background, playing in the background I like a lot of people. I probably looked past all of this for a while. But eventually, just the sheer scale of it in my city became so startling that I started wanting to understand it and report on it. I didn't know what the story I wanted to tell was for a while, and it took me a bit to figure it out. Because there's this whole huge world you have to try to understand first. And to start this series, I want to take you on a little tour of this world, so that you can get a sense of it. The most visible way that homeless people live in the Bay Area is the tent encampment.

Most of these encampments are easily seen from the road. In fact, they're practically in the road. Tents and tarps and belongings spilling off of sidewalks and industries. But the encampment where Elizabeth Easton lives, in a tiny little house made out of plywood and two by fours. It was sort of hidden away down a dirt path next to some railroad tracks. Elizabeth told me she's always liked the idea of living in a tiny house. That's all I used to watch. Tiny house. On TV, yes, more than one. Tiny house living, tiny house nation.

She'd like to have a tiny house on some land that she's actually allowed to live on, but that's not what she has right now. Do you gonna show me? Elizabeth's house is dark and windowless. There's a futon that takes up most of the space and then piles of tools and clothes. And then what's in that room? That's why I have my little toilet over there. Elizabeth's bathroom is maybe two and a half square feet with a dirt floor and one

of those medical looking toilet chairs with a bucket underneath. Every few days she empties the bucket and burns the waste. She also has a small front yard with a fence made out of pallets where her two dogs can lounge in the sun. It's a far cry from the places you see on tiny house nation, but it's still home. I know one thing, I'm not homeless. I put it that way. It can say what they want to say, but I'm not homeless. I'll put it that way. You know what I mean? It can say what they want to say, but I'm not homeless. I have a home. Elizabeth preferred to think of herself, not as homeless, but as home-steading. Home-steading is what she felt like she had done.

Found a little piece of land and claimed it as her own, built her own tiny house. But in her most powerless moments, she would talk about herself as homeless. Homesteading was a good day. Homest was the day the police came and told her she couldn't be where she was anymore. Which had happened before and would happen again. Of course not everyone lives in an encampment.

There are lots of people living in more hidden ways. A few miles from Elizabeth in what people sometimes call deep east Oakland. I'm at Reggie. See what I'm calling that? Come on. That's a lot. He sometimes sleeps in a broken-down minivan that's parked behind a house with a pit bull on a chain.

But he can only sleep in the van when he can scrounge up ten bucks. That's how much he has to pay to the owner of the van per night. He gets the money by panhandling. Could you just say where we are for the recording? Oh, we got the McDonald's. Everyone who lives in Oakland has been asked for money at some point by a panhandler. And there's long been an idea that giving cash to people on the street is the wrong way to support them.

But I will say after my two years in the field, I basically think that's garbage. Some people buy drugs, sure. But even the ones who do are also buying food or water or like Reggie renting themselves a place to sleep at night. Like anyone else they have a budget. Reggie has strong feelings about the do's and don'ts of asking people for money which he was kind enough to guide me through. You know, you see some people don't do it right? Like, come on, let me show you something. It's certain, certain, certain place you should stand. His first piece of advice, don't stand between the window where the people pay and the window

where they get their food. This is bad etiquette. This is a hell of ghetto. This is ghetto. Oh, oh. Oh, that's it. All right. Okay.

From this spot, you can see what changed people get before they even have a chance to put it back in their wallet. That ain't cool, you know, that is not cool. I think that's... That's like too aggressive, that's a great thing. Also, don't bother people with kids, at least not in this part of Oakland, where everybody, even people with houses are struggling. You're taking away from the kids, well, you know, I don't like to do that, you know. And finally, don't be too hurt when people say no. That's when Reggie had to learn over time. But you know, I'm just glad it don't hurt like I used to.

It's hard not to get hurt when the stakes are this high. If Reggie can't panhandle the ten bucks for the minivan, It's hard not to get hurt when the stakes are this high. If Redgie can't panhandle the ten bucks for the minivan, he won't have anywhere to sleep tonight, and he'll end up just wandering the streets. Redgie told me he wanted to find his stable place to live with his high school-aged daughter, who is also homeless and stays with a friend.

But most of the time, he's so busy trying to survive that he just can't try to path out of this life. It's hard to get out of the time he's so busy trying to survive that he just can't try to path out of this life. It's hard to get out of your home when you're homeless. You don't know what your life's gonna be the next two hours. You know, it just like swallows you up. And do you feel like there's a way for you to break above that cycle? I can even answer that right now. Not all I know, I'm just, as my baby said,

day by day dead. Day by day is how everyone I met outside lived. It's hard to make plans for the future and carry through with them while homeless. There's always some new crisis to deal with. Maybe your phone gets stolen or you lose your ID or you have to pick up all your things and move as fast as you can because someone doesn't want you where you are.

So if you turn your car all the way off, it just starts honking. Yeah, look. Talia Garcia and her husband and six kids often end up sleeping in the car when they can't find a friend or relative to crash with. Today, she's parked in front of her kids elementary school and her beat up old Ford Explorer. And her crisis right now is that when she turns her car off, it lets out an unending honk, which is mortifying. There's always something happening to me.

Yeah. Yeah. I'm just like, OK. I don't even know what to think anymore. Talia had just had a little bit of good news, though. She found a woman who was willing to run a room to her and her husband and their kids. It was just one room for all eight of them,

and it was only for a few months. Still, it was something. She wasn't sure what she would do after the three months was over, but she couldn't think too much about it at the moment. Because now, there was a new crisis. Her car battery was dead. Like Michael and Elizabeth and Reggie and everyone I got to know over the last two years, Talia wanted permanent stable housing. She just couldn't figure out how to get it. For a lot of homeless people, the high cost of rent, coupled with the other barriers, like

deposit and good credit, rule out being able to get housing on their own without some kind of subsidy. There's Section 8, now officially called Housing Choice, which is a voucher program for low-income folks, but the wait lists are all currently closed in the Bay Area. Besides Section 8, there's the occasional low-income housing development that opens up. But the last one I heard about in Oakland had 28 units, and they got 4,000 applications. And so what's left in terms of help? Basically, what's left is the homeless service system.

It might surprise some of you to know that we even have a system in place to help homeless people get inside. But we do. And after exploring a lot of different corners of the world of homelessness and talking to hundreds of people, this system is what I decided this series should be about. Because this is it. Like this is the system we have right now to solve homelessness Which is a huge issue in this country. We already have hundreds of thousands of people dealing with homelessness nationwide And we may soon see a dramatic increase due to COVID related job losses and evictions And so how this system works is a question with huge stakes. And yet it's

the part of this world that I honestly had to work the hardest to understand. It's confusing and opaque. Some might say Kafka-esque and they wouldn't be wrong. Everyone I met had interacted with this system. Some like Reggie had given up on it. This is designed to keep a mo-damn man. This is not designed for nobody to come up. These programs are not designed to really come up. Other people like Talia were still waiting to get something from it. What does it take to be priority for them? I don't understand it.

Talia isn't alone. A lot of people don't understand what it takes to be a priority in this system. But I can finally say that I do. It's a system that prioritizes resources according to need. But how do you decide whether one person needs housing more than another? And who actually gets help when there are so many people who need it? Here is according to need, chapter 1, Tulecia. See the tits straight ahead? Yeah.

It's everywhere. Yeah. Yeah, we go go straight. That car right there. Homeless. Most of my interviews with Tilly Shelley took place in a car. Come to think of it, most of my interviews with homeless people in general took place in cars.

Cars are good as studios. They're quiet, they don't have an echo. They are less good as homes. But many, many people in Oakland are using them that way. Do you all right? Mm-hmm. They're fair right there. Tilly Shally is pointing out all the people sleeping in cars on just a few blocks in East Oakland.

Sometimes you really can't tell when a car has a person living in it. But often there are signs. Blinkets covering windows, suitcases, strap, to roofs. Them cars right there. This car right here. I know these people right here. I know these cars right there. This car right here, I know these people right here, I know these people right here, I know them people right there. All homeless.

All homeless in my cars. Oakland recorded 727 people sleeping in cars in 2019. Although that's widely considered to be an undercount, especially because folks in vehicles tend to be less visible than say people in tents. Tilece is good at spotting these cars because she knows this neighborhood, but there's another reason too.

Sometimes she and her 11 year old son, Jordan, also sleep in the car. So you see what's up? Yeah, I put my seat back somewhere. I was just sad to record it right here for a minute. We got all the cover. Then I wrapped my feet double. So my feet won't be cold because in the middle of the night my feet be real cold.

T'Lisa is in the driver's seat and her son Jordan is in shotgun. She has a round face and a wide smile with a little gap between her front teeth. She wears a beanie to keep her head warm and to cover the short hair she hasn't had the money to get done the way she likes it with extensions. Mom. Yeah. You know what to do about? What do you think about daddy? We need a house.

We need a house. A house core. We need a house core. We need a house on wheels. Jordan has his mom's same round face plus a round belly to match. He's gentle and shy. He likes video games and math. And Tolisha says she's thankful he isn't trying to act all grown like some kids his age. By the way Jordan has a disability

that affects his speech and language. We use. Okay. So good try. Take a try and pull over and go to sleep. Okay. Super. Yeah? Okay. That's what you want. That's what you're just thinking about. Yeah. Okay.

A nice one. A nice one too. Even though mommy like the child. By 2019, Taelisha and Jordan had been homeless for five years. Sometimes they stayed with family or friends, and sometimes they ended up in the car. For five years, they'd mostly just struggled through homelessness on their own.

But then something changed, and they finally started trying to get some help. This is according to Need, chapter one. This is according to need, chapter one. I want to zero in on the time when Tullisha started asking for help, so that we can see what that looks like, and start to see who the system works for, and who it fails. But first, I want to go back. Should I get in with you, You want to get in my car? Yeah, okay. Tleisha told me about her life and a series of interviews we did in the car.

She had never had it easy. The stuff that I went to when I was little, it taught me my survival skills. Deletia's family was poor growing up. Both of her parents struggled with addiction, and she had her first kid at 16. I didn't get a chance to enjoy my teenage years, because I was a mom. There were so many obstacles and so much instability in Deletia's life, but somehow by the time she was in her 30s, she'd managed to get her GED, her forklifting license,

and a good union job with benefits at Berkeley Farms Milk Plant. But then things started to unravel. It felt like there was one family crisis after another. I just went through a lot emotionally and then my mom, she was sick and using drugs and in and out of hospital and it just got to the point where I was just, I was tired Katie. Tileisha started missing work at the plant.

Eventually she lost her job and shortly thereafter her apartment. In 2014 she became homeless. For a while, she and Jordan found places to crash and she worked temp jobs on and off, but they could only stay in one place for so long. You know, some people live different from how you used to live in. Some people are dirty, some people are clean.

Some people are dirty, some people are clean, some people get high and you don't get high. Somebody be like, you come over here for a few days, you get them some money, you eat and stuff and then after that they act funny or feel like they want their space and put you out. They'd stay somewhere for a few months or a few weeks and then it would be time to move on. Years passed like this. Eventually, the instability started to wear on Tilly's mental health. Because being homeless, mentally, is trouble. Especially when your child acts you.

When you pick them up from school, mom, where are we gonna go? Mom, where are we gonna eat? Tileja felt like she was treading water, just barely staying afloat. Or maybe she wasn't staying afloat at all, it was actually slowly drowning. She desperately needed a life raft. But there was no one stable enough in her life to grab onto. Everyone around her was also struggling. I was to the point where I was really trying to figure out

where can I place and put my son that I can't provide for him to wait. I want to let a family member have him for a while. You know where he could eat, sleep, bathe, be clean, smoke-free, and fire, but you don't stuff like that. And I could picture or figure out one person. In 2018, after four years of bouncing around

from place to place, Tilecia suffered a psychotic break. For a couple of months, she had delusions that she was famous and wealthy, and she got aggressive when people tried to convince her otherwise. When I started doing stuff, I don't usually do. That's when I knew I need a help. During this time, while she was driving by herself,

Tilecia crashed her car on purpose into a wall. She didn't want to die. It was more like a cry for help. And I said to myself, if I hit that pole, I'm gonna die. If I hit that brick wall, I can survive, but I'm gonna be f***ing. So I said, let the pole and I just turn the wheel. After the crash, Tileja went to a regular hospital

and then a psychiatric hospital, where she was diagnosed with PTSD among other things. And then, like she's always done, she clawed her way back to some fragile semblance of sanity. And that brings us to 2019, when Tleisha and Jordan still homeless had exhausted every last family or friend connection. There was nowhere left to go except for the car. The car is sacred. Tilly show wears her keys on a lanyard around her neck. If it wasn't for the car, she tells me they'd be living under a bridge.

I just put my seat back, put my little thing to cover up the front window. We'll have our snacks and whatever else we eat, our cover, and we'll just go to sleep. Um, Alex, kill me. Good luck. Nope. Why? It's not a kill me. There's no way you're laying.

Oh, it's tight. We can get in the back seat. We can get by the trees. If I go in a bad dream. That's how the summer rolled forward. Stiff necks and backs, sleeping in the car, washing their faces at McDonald's. But then, when the school year starts,

something kind of incredible happens. Tilecia finally gets a life raft. Her name is Trish Anderson. Uh-huh. Bless you girl, keep it up. Okay. YouTube, bye bye. One day. Okay, but she bye bye. One day.

Okay, but she does one hour. Did you know because I did not know that every school district in the US has a person whose job is to help homeless families? Trish Anderson is that person in Oakland. Her title, the McKinney-Vento liaison, comes from the federal legislation that established the position. Trisha's office is in a little portable building behind an elementary school. She has about a dozen bracelets on her tris that clank on the table when she talks. And she lets me interview her between emails and phone calls. Hi Leslie, this is Trisha.

Hi, so Leslie, I have a situation. I have a mom and a daughter. They're not in a car. They have no place to go. So mom moved here for me. Over the course of the 2017-2018 school year, public school data shows that some one and a half million students experienced homelessness across the country.

These students tend to move with their parents from one part of town to another to another. And a big part of the McKinney-Vento liaison's job is helping homeless parents enroll and re-enroll their kids in school. Trish does a lot of that, but she can also help with things like bus passes and uniforms. Sometimes they don't want one when I off, or I don't need transportation, I need a house. And I mean that's real. Trish can't offer housing per se, although she can help parents fill out applications

for apartments or search for affordable places on the internet. When a family and her program finally finds housing or shelter, they get a little construction paper house to put on the wall. So this one, someone went from car to shelter. So she decorated hers. Any movement we ignore. Trish has a big warm personality, but there's also something guarded underneath. When I ask her if she ever takes work home, she says she tries not to. She has her own problems at home.

She's a caregiver for her son who skits a friend and for her elderly mother who needs a lot of help with day-to-day tasks. But every now and again, someone slips past her force field. Tullisha was like that. Trisha remembers seeing Tullisha at the beginning of the school year, and she came to pick up a bus pass for Jordan. She was slid down in the chair, had on a hat, looked very tired. So I said, come here every day. Come here every day, have oatmeal hang out, volunteer, help me with my closet.

I was like, okay. That's what I said, too. I was like, okay, actually I start going every day, every day. I have oatmeal, eat, get on a computer, look for resources. And while Tileisha was there, Trish encouraged her to do something else too. Something she hadn't tried in a while.

Call 211 and ask for help. 211 is a kind of hotline for homeless people who are looking for help with things like shelter or housing in Alameda County. Thank you so much for hoping. How can I assist you today? Yes, me and my 11-year-old son is home. And where have you and your son been sleeping? Where did you stay at? Or sleep last night? In my car that don't run.

Okay. So tomorrow you can go at 1pm at the Henry Robinson Multi-Service Center to do an assessment for the CES program. When the operator says the CES program, she's using an acronym for the coordinated entry system. You're going to understand a lot more about this system by the end of this series. But for now, I'll just say that most communities in the US have a system like this. And one thing it does is create a big master list of homeless people that all the nonprofits in a particular community are working off of. This helps to ensure that two different organizations aren't trying to assist the same person without knowing it. Anyway, the operator is telling Tilly Shows she needs to get into this system in order to get help with housing. And that, unfortunately, there are no shelters to stay in in the meantime.

There was no mom with child to be able to play now. Then I'm just trying to find something before it rains. Yeah, yeah, it's a little bit. Okay. Okay. All right. Thank you. All right. Thank you for calling. Bye-bye. The next day, Tleysha took the bus to the nonprofit in downtown Oakland that the operator had told her about. While she waited, she eyed the other people who were also there. Everyone homeless, everyone in need. Eventually, it was Tilecia's turn,

and she answered some questions with a social worker named Yolanda. What is your monthly income, Yolanda asked her? $836, Tilecia answered. Tilecia didn't have a job at the time, but she got some money from the state because of Jordan's disability. Does anyone in your household suffer from depression? Yes.

In the past 30 days have you had to do things that felt unsafe to survive? Yes. How often? Daily. There were more questions, and Yolanda entered Tilecia's answers into a computer while they talked. The fact that they wanted to know so much about her seemed like a good sign to Tilecia. She felt hopeful even though they were still sleeping in the car. It's so loud.

What? So what's your favorite food? Spaghetti's chicken and garlic bread with some salad, fish, French fries and salad, tea balls, steak, potatoes. Mmm-mmm. A roast. Mmm. With a laksa of guinea.

with a likes of Keeney. Hmm. Yeah. What's your favorite dessert? You like banana pudding? Now a chocolate cake. Chocolate cake. As cream cake? Ice cream cake.

As queen cake ice cream cake cupcake is some Sunny Sunday, oh another some Sunday Well, Tolisha waited to hear back that whether she was gonna get hope with housing or shelter She kept going to see Trish It's interesting with Tolisha because you try to have boundaries.

And there's always one or two or a few, and I have a few where the boundary, it's really hard to keep that boundary because there's something else they need or they draw it on you. And she demanded it. And it happened. It just happened that way.

And not everybody does that. It wasn't that long before Tilecia started calling Trish big mama and telling her she loved her. The two of them recounted this to me in Trish's office. Like people don't come in and say, I love you. You know what I'm saying? And then I found myself saying it back because she needed it.

So that was the demand. She wasn't going gonna accept anything less. I started saying it because I wanna her to know, you know, I really, I do love her. You're getting emotional. Of course I'm always getting emotional. I'm being emotional, creature. I know this side of Tilecia too.

I've tried to keep a journalistic boundary with her, but she texts me out of the blue like, hey Katie, what are you doing? Or she'd say, I'm sad, and I'd find myself giving her a pep talk. Another case in point. For some reason, at this very moment in Trisha's office, she was squeezed onto the same chair as me. I'm just squeezed onto the chair with you, I don't know, there's this whole other chair right there. Sorry. See? See?

I just sold the man. Yeah, you can't keep a belt. I'm sorry. Yeah, I'm sorry. With Trisha's support and a place to be every day, Telisha was finally in an emotional state where she felt like she could work again. Andrish encouraged her to apply to a temp agency. She did, and she got a temporary position in washing dishes for Cirque du Soleil. In the evenings of Tullisha had enough money,

she'd buy herself in Jordan something to eat for dinner, and Jordan would spread his home workout on the table at KFC or McDonald's. Sometimes she'd even have enough money to do something fun like a movie. They were still sleeping in the car, but it felt like maybe things were turning around. I need a county to help my head can I help you? A couple weeks after that first call, Tileisha tried to and won again. Good morning. How you doing? Good thing you're having a good time. If you guys have any rooms for rent on your listing or any traditional housing. Okay, just give me a second please. Don't hang out. Okay.

And are you by yourself? I have an 11 year old son with a disability. Okay. The operator asked Tilly Shoe if she'd already done an assessment for the coordinated entry system. She said she had other than referring people into that system where maybe hopefully they'll get assistance with housing. 211 also maintains their own database of subsidized housing options that you don't have to be homeless to get into. Just poor. But all of those options have waiting lists.

The waiting list is from one to five years. That's the problem. They can also give you a list of apartments on the private market that aren't subsidized, but where the landlords might be willing to work with tenants that have less than sparkling rental histories. But there doesn't seem to be much of anything that would be affordable for Tilecia. OK, there is one. Is this a room for rent in Auckland? The price is 600 per person. So you have to be 1,200 per room.

You can tell the operator thinks 1,200 for a room is an absolute garbage option. To my child. I mean, for my own room, no, I try to figure it out. It is a little bit expensive, but all we need is our own room. Tolisha told me later she didn't end up pursuing that room. It was too expensive. Before they hang up, Tolisha asks me later she didn't end up pursuing that room. It was too expensive. Before they hang up, Tolisha asks again about shelter.

The operator tells her that the only thing available is for victims of domestic violence. And then asks her, and a tone that can only be described as hopeful if she happens to be one. Yeah, first of all, are you a victim of domestic violence? In my past, but not recently, actually. Right now. Are you a victim of domestic violence? In my parents, but not recently, I think. Yeah, unfortunately, there is nothing available right now. Trish told me she tells all of her homeless parents to call 2-on-1. But for most of them, it doesn't lead to housing.

Which, she doesn't think it's 2-on-1's fault. But for most of them, it doesn't lead to housing, which she doesn't think it's two on one's fault, but it's still frustrating. Every time you call, you're getting the same interview over and over and over again, and it's like they're collecting all this data, but there's no movement. What's a case that's really stuck with you, you know, without naming names, but like, the mom who says, if I don't find housing this year, I'm gonna kill myself. And my kids will be better off without me because at least they'll go in the foster care

and they'll get housed into the, I had two attempted suicide slides last year. No, this year, I never saw that before. So the mental health has really been on the decline for these families. The story's Trish hears all day from these parents are hard. She tells me while she bangs out a few emails, how she manages to hold so many sad stories. Well, my faith is what makes me have more, the most capacity to do the work. I'm not going to look as personally.

I don't know what it feels like to have faith drive you like that. Well it's just a place to put it all so you don't carry it. All the things you can't solve, all the things you can't carry because you got to carry something else. It's a place like you know you're purse, you put all your things you can't solve, all the things you can't carry because you got to carry something else. It's a place like, you know, you're purse, you put all your things you need for the day and the purse or a bag or the, it's kind of like that. And so you're able to carry more. Still, Trish says the purse is filling up and she's not sure how much more it or she can carry. Yeah, you can't do this forever.

I've done it for a long time already. Part of what's hard for Trish is that she doesn't feel like she has as much power as she is to make a difference in people's lives. A couple of years ago, Trish could help the family she worked with get into shelters. If she had a family walk in at 4 p.m., who had nowhere to sleep that night,

she'd start making calls. But then the county shifted to a system where everyone has to go through 2-1-1. And now she can't do that anymore. It's hard to notice someone's on the street, you can't make a phone call and get them into a shelter. You know, in this position you have to be careful that you don't become a complainer. Because you're having families interact with a system that you don't think is it works or it has challenges and the families are already feeling that. So you walk a fine line in your frustration. This call was the last time Tilly should try to one one. It's about three weeks from her first call, and she sounds tired. The operator tells her that the only shelters available are for single adults, not for a woman with a 3.0 on his report card, you know.

Oh, he's running out of power at the school. Yeah, he's doing really good and stuff. I don't want to stop all that stuff that he's got going on. Just jumping in here to say that Tilecia is right to be worried about Jordan falling behind academically. Data from public schools in 2017-2018 showed that only 29% of homeless students were proficient in reading, and they were similarly behind in math. But it isn't just poverty that makes them slip, it's instability. Homeless kids' test scores are below even other low-income students who are stably housed. Before they get off the phone, the operator suggests that we should get into the coordinated entry system, not seeming to realize that she was already in the system. She'd been in it for weeks now. She hadn't gotten any help.

Like, nobody never called me back and checked on me. Like, I've been going through this now for so long. And what do you think that is? There's so many people all over that experience. The same thing as me. Everybody just never got to me on the list. I just feel like somebody somebody they forgot about me. They forgot about me and my son.

In other words, for Tullisha, the fact that help never came wasn't personal and it totally was personal. A couple months after those two-on-one calls, Tullisha still hadn't gotten any help with housing from the system. She had a new job at Napa Auto Parts, where she made about $500 a week, but she hadn't been able to save much yet. She had found a spot where she and Jordan could stay inside with some regularity, not their own place, but somewhere to crash at least. It didn't feel like home though,

even though she had a roof over her head. She still felt homeless. There's nothing else for me to do, but keep trying. Yeah. I think about Jordan more than I think about myself. Every night, I just keep listening to that song. Oh, don't change this coming.

And I just keep holding on. Everything gon' be our righteous hold on. Changes coming. I'm on it right now though, like right right now. Thanks for talking to me. Thank you. Always appreciate it. Yep, I feel better too.

Oh good. I feel like I wore you out, but I'm going. I was already wore out. Yeah. Before you got in there. All right, well, I hope you get some good sleep tonight. I don't know if so too. That's also true. The place where Tullisha and Jordan were staying was a one bedroom basement apartment where

a bunch of other people also lived. One guy slept on the couch, another person slept in a recliner. Tullisha and Jordan slept on a barermatras. Sometimes there were tensions in the house, though. People mad at each other over bills or food or what to watch on TV. And then Tilecia and Jordan would end up back in the one place they'd always been able to count on. The car. That's his stars. His stars?

Yeah. I want to see. Ah, more. Yeah. That was so sweet, but it does. You feel sorry for the dinosaurs? Yeah, they speak. I won't do. dinosaurs yeah the stink all the dinosaurs go to the other to saw the pink rats I think some of them not go? Yeah. Well, they're in the cage, hibernating.

Maybe, yeah. I wanted to understand why Tullisha had never gotten any help with housing. Who was this system helping if not her? One thing I did know was that when homeless people wanted help, they were almost always advised to call 2-1-1. That seemed to be the starting place for everyone. If I wanted to understand how this all worked, maybe I should pay them a visit. That's next time on According to Need. Coming up, I continue my conversation with Katie Mingle, and we get an update on Tuleasha

after this. We're back with the award-winning Katie Mingle producer of According to Need. Can you give us an update on the people in this episode or any stuff that's happened since we published the series? Yeah, I mean, I can give you an update on Tilly's show, for sure. If you listen all the way to the end of the series, you will hear that Tilly's show doesn't end up getting help from the system in the Bay Area, or not like significant help, that is kind of like life changing help,

but she does end up getting section eight, which was sort of luck in a way, like she had put her name on some section eight wait lists years ago, like it had been like eight years since she put her name on these wait lists and apparently you can put your name on wait lists wherever there's section eight vouchers open and you know that might not even be the city you live in. It might be some random city that you've never been to which was the case for her and she got section eight in Louisville, Kentucky. And then after like a lot of really hard

thinking and sort of going back and forth and a ton of just like anxiety and sort of stressing out, she decided she was going to try to go for this housing in Louisville, Kentucky, a place where she had never been and didn't know anyone. And that was a really big decision. I mean, I say this in the update at the end of the show, but like, I rarely met people who were thinking about leaving because people are just so dependent on their communities and their families and stuff for support. I think particularly people in poverty are just really, really leaning on the people around them for help.

And so the idea that you would move somewhere or where you didn't know anyone is just something that most people I met wouldn't even consider. But yeah, it's really just decided to take this big leap, move out there. It was really, really hard at first. And the section eight, the process of actually getting a house was not entirely smooth. But she got a place. She's been in that place for almost two years now.

She is doing really well. She got a job, she got a full-time job at Walmart. For a little while, she was working two jobs. I think she quit her second job. She bought a car. She recently went on a cruise, which I know like, what a cruise is, I thought they were kind of over forever,

but they came back and she went on a cruise like right around Christmas time. So she's doing great except for you know she has family back in Oakland that she misses and who you know are still struggling in some ways to just like get by and live in the Bay Area, which was like the struggle that she was in too for a while, but now she's kind of gotten a little relief from that, which is not to say that life is easy because it isn't, but it's a lot better.

It's a lot better. That's so amazing to hear. Yeah. I love that. So you reported this for two years. It came out while you were reporting it, the very tail end of it, a COVID happened, which had a huge impact on the homeless population. And so do you know what's going on now in terms of COVID and homelessness and how that's

all shaping up since you reported the stories. Yeah, I know a little bit. And I think the really short answer is that in the short term things have gotten a bit better in some ways. And I think in the long term, people are worried that things may get much worse. The reason they've gotten better is that there's just been a bunch of new money that has come in from the federal government to the states to address all kinds of things. And I think states have had a fair amount of leeway and sort of how they've used some of that money.

But a lot of people, and we talked about it on our show, it probably heard about Project Room Key, which like was this massive project to move almost folks into hotel rooms during the pandemic, to get them out of like congregate shelter settings, which people were worried for good reason that there, you know, that COVID

was gonna spread really easily in those spaces. So there was, yeah, this massive effort to move people into hotel rooms. There's definitely been criticisms of that program, but it moved thousands of people really fast into hotel rooms, not everybody but any stretch, but a lot of people, it was sort of like, oh wow, when there's a will and money, there is a way to quickly move people off of the streets. And now some of those programs are kind of winding down, I think, actually finding more permanent solutions

for people has been like a much bigger challenge in some ways and getting people to sort of make another transition after the hotel. There's been all kinds of obstacles from what I understand, but it is happening and then like cities both Oakland and San Francisco are basically trying to buy some of these hotels that they had used to house people and just make them permanent housing for people, essentially. So that's happening.

And then there's like money available for kind of smaller interventions. Like there's this idea of like what people call a shallow subsidy. So like imagine you, your rent is $2,000 and you pretty consistently can come up with like $1,700. There's never really been an intervention for people who just need that like $300 extra dollars every month. And so now like they're looking at stuff like that. I feel like there's a lot of like experimentation going on where there's just like all this money and they're like,

let's try doing this. Let's try just like giving people cash. Let's try this. And so I think that's really great. And hopefully, like, some longer term programs will come out of some of this more like experimental stuff that's happening from all this new money. I think that the the hard thing is that like we all have probably watched as like the housing market has gone just absolutely bananas during the pandemic and like know, like if you thought it was hard to buy a house in Oakland in 2019, it's like, whoa, it's, it's like so much harder now. And that, you know, it has now started to, to sort of translate into the rental market

becoming like much tighter also. And that's bad. Like, we were in the situation, we were in pre-COVID with homelessness because of a rental market that was just like completely unrealistic and unaffordable for so many people. And we're basically heading into a worse one. So that's really bad. That's really bad.

I don't know if you remember, but there was just this really brief moment in the beginning of the pandemic where rents went down, especially in more urban areas. And that is over. And this graph that was put out by Harvard, they do this big kind of report on housing every year, really sort of shows like what's happening now.

I just texted it to you. But wow. OK, so the graph you sent is like a, it has the normal sort of noise at the bottom. And then it hits 2021 and it shoots up like a hockey stick type growth. It's crazy. Yeah, it's just straight up.

Yeah, that's really bad. I don't know. One thing that hasn't happened in a couple of years is like every year they do this big, it's called the point in time,, where they essentially send out teams of volunteers to count the number of homeless people that they encounter on the street in cars. It's like this big count and it happens on one single morning. They didn't do it in 2020. I don't think they did it in 2021 and it's about to happen now in 2022. So we don't really know where the numbers are right now and I think

Everybody's really anxious to see kind of what what's happening and it but it could still be another year or two before we really see like What kind of effect the pandemic and the skyrocketing, housing prices and rent prices have really done to a crisis that was already really bad. It's good to touch base with you about this. I'm glad that we're reprocasting the two episodes and I hope people listen to the rest of them and congratulations again on the achievement of the whole series. I just loved it. It was a real watershed moment for the rest of them. Congratulations again on the achievement of the whole series. I just loved it. It was a real watershed moment for 9% of his will.

And I'm just happy it exists in the world. Yeah, me too. Thank you so much. And it was just, I don't know, I think about what a privilege it was to get that time on that story. And it just means so much to me. So I hope anyone who hasn't heard it yet on that story and it just like means so much to me. So I hope anyone who hasn't heard it yet will check it out.

Yeah, it's really good. Yeah. It's really good. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. According to Need was produced by Katie Minkle with Loshma Dawn and managing editor Whitney Henry Lester,

executive produced by me Roman Mars, editing by Lisa Pollock, Emmett Fitzgerald, Delaney Hall, Christopher Johnson, and Joe Rosenberg, additional support from Sophia Klatsker, Vivian Leigh, and Chris Barubey, music by Swan Rial. Kurt Colestet is the digital director, original sound engineering on these two episodes by Kevin Ramsey, fact checking by Amy Gaines, branding and design, by much more. Special thanks to everyone Katie interviewed for this series as well as Marisol Medina Cadena, Alison D'Young, and Chelsea Miller. Mix and Tech Production on this re-broadcast by Martín Gonzales. We are part of the Stitcher and Sirius XM podcast family, now headquartered six blocks north in the Pandora building. In beautiful.

Uptown. Oakland, California. You can find the show and join discussions about the show on Facebook. You can tweet at me at Roman Mars and the show at 99PI at work. We're on Instagram and right at two. You can listen to all the other episodes of According to Need at 99PI dot org slash need. It also has its own podcast feed. You can listen to all the other episodes of According to Need at 99mpi.org-need. It also has its own podcast feed.

Just do a search in your favorite podcast app for According to Need and you will find it. And leave a review for a while you're there so other people will be encouraged to listen. And if you get lost, stay still and meet me near the checkout at 99mpi.org.