Unapologetically angry. Laser focused.

July 2020 marks seven years since my mom Fran passed away.

Cause of death — homelessness.

It’s been seven years since my dad texted 911 — over and over again — before calling me in tears to tell me that the love of his life had been found alone and unresponsive on the beach of our hometown.

Seven years since I’ve heard her sweet voice, her gentle tears, her pleads for help.

Seven years since I stayed up each night worrying about what would happen in the cold dark night behind the church she liked to call home.

It’s been seven years since I begged her to get help, bailed her out of jail, argued with her about going to shelter.

Seven years since I explained that she would only get the permanent housing she desperately needed if she remained homeless — because you aren’t considered homeless if you stay on a couch or in a hotel.

Seven years of paying off hotels bills for those rainy cold nights we were able to keep her sheltered.

It has been seven years since she described the dream house she wouldn’t live to see. Complete with a goldfish, a plant and a warm comforter.

Seven years of sadness for how I failed her. How our family failed her. How our systems failed her.

Seven years since I said I love you. And she replied. Love you more — over and over until she fell asleep on the damp concrete.

I share her story because she is representative of the more than 560,000 people who experience literal homelessness every year — tens of thousands more bounce between couches and hotel rooms. They are moms and dads. Sisters and brothers. Aunts and uncles. The “someone’s” who often feel like “no ones”. 560,000+ experienced homelessness before the global pandemic and economic meltdown we are experiencing right now. Due to systemic racism, those experiencing homelessness are too often Black, Indigenous, and other people of color. Or like my mom, among the growing number of women and older adults with no place to call home.

There’s no amount of good therapy, wine, best friends, work accomplishments, or vacations that will ever settle the anger I feel about our homelessness crisis. If that anger fades you should be worried about me. As someone who works every day to fight homelessness — I remain unapologetic angry that people will sleep outside on the streets of America tonight during a global pandemic. I remain unapologetically angry that we are facing an eviction crisis of epic proportion. I remain unapologetically angry that we let politics, ethos, best practices, process, fatigue, and blame get in way of bringing every last person indoors.

Let me be clear. Homelessness is a choice. Not for those who experience homelessness. But a choice of elected officials, taxpayers, and community leaders who allow it to continue.

Homelessness is an unacceptable choice.

Homelessness is an inhumane choice.

Homelessness is a disgraceful choice.

And it makes be angry.

Because housing is a human right. Housing is health care. Housing is justice.

But as angry as I am. I remain laser focused on the north star of ending homelessness in this country.

Some say that’s overly ambitious. “You can’t really end homelessness”. “We tried and failed”. “Homelessness is an intractable problem”.

Bull shit. Of course we can.

We know what it takes but we continue to fail to invest in solutions at scale. We force communities to make unacceptable choices between sheltering people today and providing long-term housing tomorrow. Why? Because most of us don’t know people who are homeless. We assume it happens to others who make bad choices. We assume it can’t be fixed or someone else will fix it. Homelessness is ugly. And smelly. And heartbreaking So we look the other way.

But if homelessness can happen to my mom — it can happen to yours to. And it will require all of us to come together to fix it.

My mom struggled mightily. But she had a fierce fight in her for justice. She taught me to always vote. To always stand up for what you believe in. And when things look bleak to fight harder. more loudly and with more friends.

So friends. It’s time to fight harder. While we dream sweet dreams about this pandemic being over, we have the opportunity to stand up and say housing is a human right. Together we can get angry and prevent more people from becoming homeless today and elect leaders who will join the fight to end homelessness.

Join me in taking these actions:

1. Today: Contact your congressperson to demand #rentrelief now and prevent evictions (a leading cause of homelessness) from happening due to COVID-19: https://nlihc.secure.force.com/actions/TakeActionNew?actionId=AR00928

2. Make sure you are registered to vote: https://votesaveamerica.com/be-a-voter/

3. Educate yourself about housing and homelessness candidates. https://www.ourhomes-ourvotes.org/

4. VOTE in your primary and general elections.

5. Share this message and tell your friends and family to get in the fight for housing justice — to get in the fight for my mom.

Stay Angry. Set focused. Together we can end homelessness.