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Tiny Hope

 The analogy between the solution for homelessness and aspirin in lieu of chemo for a cancer patient is pretty sad one. 

.. just a quarter of those who used these tiny homes ended up in permanent housing, and fears increased interest in investment in temporary solutions can divert resources from the real solution. 

“Imagine if you have cancer, and the treatment is chemotherapy but I tell you there’s not enough chemo to go around, so you’re going to have to wait, and I’m gonna give you some aspirin,” Loving says. “That’s cool, but you need the treatment. There’s nothing wrong with doing a better job of keeping people in more dignified housing options. But if we’re not making sure that we’re focused on permanent housing, this is an intervention that will be filled up in a minute.”

Following the analogy, it would seem that seventy-five percent of those in need would never get chemo - they would remain forever in the tiny home, a crude shelter that aims to offer a thin layer of dignity to those who have become homeless. Apart from the actual cost to run a complex of such homes which the article talks about, there is the fact of constant reminder that the person lives in a state of transience. Nothing is easy and within reach. Several years ago, I used to commute to work from my then apartment. There was a bench by the bus stop where a homeless woman sat silent and motionless all times of the day with all her worldly possessions in bags around her. We smiled at each other as acquaintances might. If not for the large assortment of bags, you would not recognize her for a homeless person. She carried herself with grace notwithstanding her circumstances.

 In the dead of winter one year, I did not see her for many weeks and grew concerned but fortunately when the weather turned warmer, she was back at her spot - I remember feeling relieved and thinking how absurd the whole situation was. We had known each other for a long time by now as people running into each other at the same place over and over. I did not know her name or anything about her. In my mind, I had created a backstory where she had fallen on hard times quite randomly and would be back on her feet. But that cold month in winter did not have me thinking that her life was back on track - instead I was worried she had frozen to death and I would never see her again. It proved the thinness of the backstory and the average person's inability to do much about such things beyond being a bystander. Would she have been better off in a tiny home village, taking aspirin to cure cancer? I don't know.

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