A Publication of the Coalition on Homelessness
In June, Teresa Sandoval woke up in her spot underneath the highway near 13th and Mission streets to the sounds of a San Francisco Public Works crew conducting another encampment sweep.
Sandoval had already gone through this drill: Public Works, often accompanied by San Francisco Police Department officers, arrived unannounced and ordered her to pack up her belongings and leave. As she moved in her wheelchair gathering her stuff, Public Works staff removed her tent,
Governor Gavin Newsom’s CARE Courts are now law after he signed the legislation on September 14.
Senate Bill 1338, a Newsom proposal, will create a specialized mental health court where judges can compel people with mental health disabilities and substance use conditions into treatment. The bill allows a broad list of “specified individuals” to refer somebody for conservatorship, and sets a similarly broad set of conditions qualifying them for CARE Court.
To some this is a lived experience, and to others just a tall tale. Many homeless people I have interacted with on the streets of West Coast cities—either unhoused and unsheltered—have had really painful experiences with the police, or experienced brutality from other people in the neighborhood. Some are not in shelters because they have a reason not to be, like being undocumented. For those living in fear of deportation, avoiding interaction feels like the way to stay unknown and unnoticed,
Dan Paul, an urban survivalist and magical street performer, has departed for his next grand adventure. He passed away on August 12, 2022. Dan was born November 11, 1970 in Seattle, Wash. into a loving family. He spent his early years at his home in Enumclaw, finishing out his youth in Huntsville, Ala. While a young adult, Dan felt crowded and claustrophobic trying to adjust to the demands of a conforming life and decided to take to the streets,
It’s a rare chilly morning in August, and I’m not fully awake when I hear the sound of an incoming message on my phone. I force myself to sit up and grab the phone from the nightstand. I see that it’s a message from Jeannie, an acquaintance from high school. There’s a video attached to the message. Jeannie likes sending me funny videos that she finds on YouTube—this one is called “Fake Mental Disorder Cringe.” Right away,
