Tacoma encampment sweeps are only creating more pain, suffering and changes of scenery
There was rain, wind and an overwhelming sense of futility.
On Wednesday morning, under dark clouds — literal and figurative — the city of Tacoma conducted its latest homeless encampment clearing.
This encampment, between South 9th and 11th Street on Hilltop near People’s Park, was probably best described as several collections of tents pitched along sidewalks, on corners and in planting strips. All told, dozens of people had been living there, some for months.
As of this writing, many are now gone, onto their next spot, in many cases just down the road.
In Tacoma, it’s the latest gyration in a cycle with no clear end, and no clear objective — other than creating the outward appearance of a city doing something.
Unfortunately, reality tells a different story.
According to city spokesperson Megan Snow, Wednesday’s clearing of public property was the seventh Tacoma has conducted so far this year. In all of 2021, the city cleared a total of seven encampments, meaning Tacoma has essentially doubled the pace. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, when public health guidance curtailed encampment removals, the city cleared just two.
So what do we have to show for it? Not much, aside from the feeling of desperation and pointlessness that hung in the air Wednesday morning.
“It’s dreadful. You know the day’s coming, you don’t know where to go, and you don’t know what to do,” said Tiffany Pierce, 44, who had been staying in a tent with her 28-year-old son Michael near South L Street and South 10th until work crews arrived.
“It’s humiliating,” Pierce added, her distressed voice one of many in the crowd.
“We’re people,” she said.
Pierce’s story is unique. They all are.
Her descent into homelessness began two years ago, she explained, set into motion by a string of health emergencies and her attempts to flee an abusive relationship. She’s stayed at congregate homeless shelters in the past, but found them traumatizing and dangerous. At one of the darkest points in her life, the thing Pierce has tried to hold onto is some semblance of control, even if it means living in a tent on the side of the road, she said.
At the same time, Pierce’s situation is also indicative of the larger crisis Tacoma still has no answer for. For all the individual indignities and obstacles she faces, she’s far from alone.
According to Snow, the impetus for Wednesday’s Hilltop encampment clearing was health and public safety. There has been a dramatic year-over-year increase in police calls for service in the area, Snow said, with some of the spikes exceeding 300%. Calls related to fires, welfare checks and “shots fired — no known victims” were three of the most frequent.
In other words, the encampment Pierce called home was a bad situation that demanded action for residents of the camp, nearby businesses and neighbors. There’s no question, and no need to debate.
But after we spoke, Pierce headed off to where she planned to setup her next makeshift shelter, a few blocks away.
It’s not that Pierce wants to live outside, she said, it’s that the services and shelter options Tacoma has to offer her don’t feel any better than her current circumstances.
“I want to be inside. I don’t want to be outside,” Pierce said. “But I need to be safe.”
Since 2020, according to figures provided by the city, Tacoma has created more than 350 new shelter beds. That’s commendable and important, but it’s also not enough, as Pierce’s story confirms.
On Tuesday, according to Snow, there were 31 shelter beds available in Tacoma.
Instead of throwing up our hands in frustration because people like Pierce didn’t take one, we’d be better served listening to their reasons why — and then finding a way to actually serve them.
Ed Jacobs, a chaplain at the Nativity House homeless shelter downtown, is a towering man, the kind that’s hard to miss. On Wednesday, he mingled among the crowd of packing residents, service providers, advocates and police officers, taking the time to stop and talk to a columnist who first met him while working on a different story about the very same depressing subject.
Jacobs said he has attended all seven of the city’s encampment clearings so far this year. As long as they continue, he plans to keep showing up, he told me.
Given what he’s seen — and what he hasn’t seen, namely people taking what Tacoma is offering as shelter — I asked Jacobs to explain the disconnect, and more specifically why what the city is doing isn’t working.
“People are looking for hope,” Jacobs said, after giving it some thought.
One thing was clear Wednesday morning: Until Tacoma commits itself to offering just that, we’ll be stuck going through the same useless motions.
This story was originally published May 19, 2022 at 5:00 AM.
