by Betsy Morris, Chris Ferguson, Ludmilla Bade, and Susan Cozzens
A. The world we seek
Our sense of morality with regard to homelessness begins with a vision of the kind of world we want to live in. We want to live in a society that treats people with respect, on an equal footing. We want each person to be able to reach their potential, collaboratively with others. We want social relationships that foster creativity and that allow the creative spark in each of us to shine forth. We want lives without violence, hatred, or othering. We want conditions that foster a sense of oneness with the natural world as well as with each other.
Not surprisingly, we find statements and concepts of this kind of society in many places among Quakers and in other faith traditions. It reflects the central Quaker belief that there is something of the divine in everyone and our resulting testimony of equality. For example, in its policy statement The World We Seek, the Friends Committee on National Legislation (FCNL) calls for “a community where every person’s potential may be fulfilled.” FCNL’s core values include
- Uphold Justice: With a steadfast commitment to the inherent equality of all persons, we work to dismantle systems of oppression that deny people of their inherent dignity and their ability to thrive.
- Embody Stewardship: Recognizing the sacredness of the earth and the interdependence of all beings inhabiting it, we seek to restore right relationship with our endangered environment and one another.
The latter echoes the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address, an indigenous prayer, which affirms “the duty to live in balance and harmony with each other and all living things.” Likewise, the Judeo-Christian tradition holds the prophetic vision of shalom, which captures equality, wholeness, and reconciliation of all within God’s will.
- “Always we are all in it together. Together we stand before God’s blessings and together we receive the gift of life if we receive it at all. Shalom comes only to the inclusive, embracing community that excludes none.” [1]
B. Housing as a human right
Housing is a human right because it is essential to this vision. Without a home base, without a place to rest your head, it is hard to be your most creative self. When you are continually afraid of someone taking away your few precious belongings, you cannot live up to your abilities to create and to dream. The enforced turbulence of a homeless life in the United States robs people continually of the right to improve their living conditions, to improve the place they occupy. Homeless people in the United States are denied the relationships that ground people in place, with objects, pets, and even nature. Most importantly, they are robbed of community, of the ability to have continuing relationships of mutual care.
The United Nations recognizes the right to housing in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. “Everyone has a fundamental human right to housing, which ensures access to a safe, secure, habitable, and affordable home. … Housing is more than just a roof; it’s the opportunity for better lives and a better future. … Access to housing is a precondition for access to employment, education, health, and social services.”[2] People are driven from their homes around the world by war, drought, fires, and earthquakes. Economic forces displace millions. Some go home, some do not. “Displacement,” within countries or across national boundaries, prevents shalom as effectively as experiencing homelessness in the United States.
C. Systems of oppression
Many housing policies and practices are keeping the U.S. from shalom. To see that situation, we have to take a step back and recognize larger patterns.
Several of the authors of this essay were brought to this work through the history of housing discrimination.[3] Policies of the federal government kept racialized groups out of home ownership until much too recently, and the patterns are perpetuated through current practices. These policies and practices account for huge shares of the wealth gap between black and white Americans, for example, even now. We find that history shameful.
Likewise, we are appalled by the exploitative power of the real estate business. A history of the National and California Associations of REALTORS illustrates.[4] “The documented history of … a small, powerful group of real estate agents who have since 1902, conspired to drive up home prices through covert and overt tactics that continue driving our housing and homelessness crises.” The group “[pours] millions into public elections to limit renter protections and extract more profit from housing prices by restricting choices.” To the present day, this group crafts a story to make some people afraid of others, including renters and nomads. Actively attempting to turn that fear into an advantage in order to make a profit is morally offensive. Clearly, these actions do not belong in the society we want to live in.
The housing system in the United States effectively and relentlessly generates inequality. Many U.S. institutions implicitly assign rights to property owners and deny them to others. We are sure that no one can be safe and secure if our laws exclude many of our fellow residents from living near us. Creating a caste of people who are acceptable to exploit does not fit within our vision of equality and respect. Living comfortably within institutions that have those effects has consequences that should be alarming to all of us.
D. Awareness, accountability, action
We have been listening to reports from Quaker Meetings about their engagements with homeless people. Big city meetings are particularly likely to have such experiences. We will summarize those reports in a separate essay. But here, we want to call attention to the signals that these experiences send about the moral foundations for housing justice.
The stories have some similar elements: an unhoused person or persons appear, the Meeting tolerates their presence, some meeting members become uncomfortable, and eventually, the meeting puts up exclusionary boundaries. We have heard very few accounts in which a significant segment of the Meeting community did not express discomfort in welcoming unhoused people onto – and this introduces an important word – Meeting property or into its community life. In several cases, led by a few dedicated individuals in the Meeting into more contact and learning, Meetings moved beyond fear to relationships.
What is this fear? We encourage readers to sit with that question for a moment. Some of the authors have felt that fear. We know nothing about the person we fear except that they are unhoused, yet we feel that person as a threat. The threat may be bodily, that someone unclean will approach. It may be a violation of one’s sense of order, a concern that the unhoused person brings “trash” onto the “property.” When we consider it thoughtfully, we can see that the fear is connected to a package of privileges that includes but is not limited to our being housed. When we face that reality about ourselves, we have taken a step towards shalom.
Recognizing our roles in systems of oppression is harder, but for us, it is an essential part of the moral foundation for addressing homelessness. Owning land should cause us to pause and ask how we are using it. Who are we welcoming? Who are we excluding? Are we counting on an exploitative, escalating housing market to provide resources for our retirements? We are developing queries for Meetings to create space for discernment on these issues. We welcome you to share your suggestions for such queries with us, at housing.cod@quakerinstitute.org.
What then, do we do with this self-knowledge once we have it? Our moral principles include accountability and action. The four of us have experienced the housed/unhoused gulf from different angles. We have all been moved into action by the contradiction between that privilege and the world we seek. All of us know that without accountability and action on the part of the privileged, we will not reach shalom.
[1] Walter Bruggemann, The Prophetic Imagination
[2] Housing | UN-Habitat (unhabitat.org)
[2] The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein describes this particularly powerfully.
[3] Gene Slater, author of Freedom to Discriminate: How Realtors Conspired to Segregate Housing and Divide America. Quotations are from the Gray Panthers announcement of a discussion.