Many people have told me that there was not really a history of homelessness in the U.S., that this is a modern phenomenon beginning in the 1980s when the issue became so visible at unprecedented levels. But that is simply not true. Historian Ken Kusmer, author of Down And Out, reminds us that we have had periods of homelessness in the past besides the well-known homelessness conditions of the Great Depression. In the 1980s we saw the effects of the shift from a manufacturing economy to a service/information economy (think of the rust belt for example). Kusmer describes a similar shift in the late 1880s when the nation moved from an agricultural economy to a manufacturing one. Both shifts meant upheaval for many workers that were left extremely vulnerable and, in worst cases, without a home. That left many people more vulnerable, and when combined with illness, injury, or strained social networks, the combination became a type of homelessness cocktail.
The stigma of having no home in that era, true today as well, is evident in Stephen Crane’s, “An Experiment in Misery,” which first appeared as an article in the New York Press (1894) and was later released as a book (1896).
He was going forth to eat as the wanderer may eat, and sleep as the homeless sleep. By the time he had reached City Hall Park he was so completely plastered with yells of “bum” and “hobo,” and with various unholy epithets that small boys had applied to him at intervals, that he was in a state of the most profound dejection.
War veterans have also been overrepresented among homeless people in American history. In the modern era, Vietnam veterans and veterans from the Iraq and Afghanistan wars may return with psychological and physical scars that extend the war beyond the battlefield, can lead to drug addiction and/or isolation from others, and for many, homelessness. This was true in prior wars. A number of Civil War veterans also became homeless. Many were accustomed to traveling, living on the road as soldiers, and once the war ended in 1865 continued doing that either for economic reasons, afflicted by the war, or because they had nothing to go back to.
Fortunately politcal will has galvanized in the past 2 decades. Members of the political right and left in Congress deserve credit for coming together to support initaitives to support homeless veterans. Besides the political will to support veterans, research has proved some policy tools extremely effective (e.g., HUD-VASH vouchers). The result has been a steady and impressive decline among veterans experiencing homelessness.
Why is an historical lens on homelessness important? There is a belief that homelessness is tied to modern times and economic recession. When the economy declines, some people are left homeless. It seems logical enough. But history shows us that this is not the case. Other forces are at play. In the early 1980s when Ronald Regan took office, the economy was poor and homelessness was becoming visible in ways that were new, including an upsurge of homeless families. When the economy recovered and soared for many in that decade, rates of homelessness continued to rise. It rose through the Bill Clinton 1990s, during the dot.com explosion, and it rose through the economic downturns of 9/11 and the Great Recession of 2008–2009 during George W. Bush’s presidency. Some populations saw rises in homelessness during the Obama and Trump eras, while some (like veterans) continued to decline. The latest federal data indicates rates of homelessness are increasing slightly due to COVID.
Today our challenge is not to get stuck with the same old models, not play the blame game across ideological sides, and not to assume a rising tide will lift all boats. Instead we need to take a holistic, systemic look at homelessness. We need to collaborate across federal departments more than ever, and across sectors. And through our work we need to always maintain a humanistic—especially historic—perspective.
When we think of ourselves as Americans at our best, we think of the inscription at the base of the Statue of Liberty, in Emma Lazarus’s 1883 poem “The New Colossus,” from which our organization derives its name. It’s a vision of America symbolically reaching out to those in need of comfort and offering welcome, and, implied, a home.
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refused of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
