The Trauma of Displacement

As I write this month’s editorial, I am working in overload, as the staff members at CCNV who reside in the 3-North section of the Federal City Shelter building have been required to relocate for the next 60 days for the sake of renovations. That has meant packing away my belongings that I will not need into storage and going to live elsewhere within the complex. As much as that may sound like a minor operation, it most assuredly is not. It is a major upheaval for me, especially because I have health conditions that must be addressed in such a move. Since my arrival at CCNV, I have been displaced three times. Two of those displacements were done in such a manner that was rather abrupt, so reliving the trauma does not bring back fond memories for me. I must be fair in saying that the powers that be at CCNV have done their utmost to cushion the blow as much as possible during this current displacement and have made every effort to accommodate wherever possible. Even in the best of conditions, however, displacement is traumatic at best for anyone who must undergo it.

It’s not easy to be displaced. Every homeless person knows the trauma of being displaced and wears it like an open sore that never really heals. Many homeless persons wander the streets of Washington each day with their belongings, wondering where they will end up spending the night, hoping that they will find a spot in one of the city’s day shelters. CCNV is the only shelter in the city that actually gives homeless persons an address that they can call a residence during their stay there; residents are spared the need to be displaced every morning at 7:00am together with all their belongings and, therefore, do not need to relive the trauma of displacement on a daily basis. Those persons not fortunate enough to find lodging at CCNV are forced to wander like vagabonds with everything they own every day and carry the trauma of doing so with them.

It would be safe to say that most homeless people suffer on some level from a traumatic disorder from having been displaced. The more often the displacement, the more severe the trauma. Those persons who have to roll out of a shelter every day suffer a daily trauma. Those persons who live on the streets live in perpetual trauma. The only way to eliminate the trauma is to reinstate some level of stability into the lives of the homeless by providing them with stable environments. Ideally, this would mean providing permanent housing, but even transitional housing is better than being forced to live like vagabonds all the time.

To date, only one shelter in the District of Columbia provides shelter on a residential basis throughout the year. Its residents are able to leave their belongings there from one day to the next, so that if a person wants to go to a job interview, it is not necessary to take one’s belongings along to the interview, something that would surely torpedo any chances of getting the job. One would think that other shelters would follow suit, as the only sensible way to rehabilitate the homeless is to provide them with a stable environment that will enable them to rebuild their lives without reliving the trauma of displacement constantly. Yet so far, none of the other providers in the city have seen fit to do so.

For the moment, while CCNV undergoes renovations, its doors will be closed to new intakes. For those newly homeless persons seeking to escape the cycle of trauma, it is a significant loss indeed. There’s nothing trifling about the need to be located in one stable residence; any person who has been displaced can confirm that. The need for more residential shelters is grave and immediate. The time for action has never been more pressing than it is now.