There is tremendous opportunity for sustainable practices
within the tent cities organized by our unhoused populations here in the US.
Instead of considering ways to improve living conditions within these
marginalized communities, attention is directed towards rescuing people from
their situation. This approach leaves people in an expected state of urgency
and desperation to find conventional shelter, yet our stock of affordable and
transitional housing continues to dwindle, and what does remain is often
socially isolating and environmentally unsustainable. Rather than being rescued, members of tent cities are more
often left to carry out a nomadic existence, forced by city officials to move
from one space of underutilized land to the next.
A better approach may be to consider ecovillages as a model
for reframing these informal settlements as a viable alternative. Let’s address
homelessness and sustainability together.
Ecovillages typically have personal, social, and ecological
dimensions. Many tent cities already demonstrate strong personal and social
elements—especially organized ones in which a self-governing community begins
to emerge. They often ban theft, alcohol, and illegal substances in order to
improve living conditions within the community and lessen the likelihood of
eviction by the city.
Organized tent
cities practice horizontal organization where people facing similar issues work
together in order to help themselves. This opportunity for participation
results in what Caleb Poirier describes as “a returned sense of agency,” where
people who became accustomed to being unheard all of a sudden make
decisions that directly shape the community in which they live.
Mutual Support at Camp Take Notice
Caleb is the founder of Camp Take
Notice in Ann Arbor. What started over three years ago as a single tent in the
woods, evolved into a highly organized community of around 60 otherwise
homeless individuals. After a series of relocations, the camp settled in its
sixth location where it developed organically for over two years in left over
space created by highways. In late
June, residents returned to find state workers constructing an eight-foot fence
that would prevent them from returning to their long-time home. “It's not against Camp Take
Notice specifically,” said Mark Sweeney, a regional manager for the Michigan
Department of Transportation, “but more to prevent a homeless encampment of any
kind in this location." While
some received subsidies for one year’s rent over half did not. This insufficient, short-term solution
could cost the state over half a million dollars.
During the summer of 2010, I stayed at Camp Take Notice to
collect some first-hand research for my urban planning thesis project on tent
cities. Instead of acting as an outside observer I decided I would much rather
be a participant in this alternative community. Among other things, I found a
prevalent gift, barter, and sharing economy in which goods and services were
regularly traded without monetary exchange.
A fine example of this came during my lowest moment while
staying at the camp. As usual, I started the day by winding my bike up the
forested trail, over the guardrail, and began to ride on the bridge over the
highway. A large truck approaching from behind caused me to swerve and scrape
the curb. Looking down, I saw the piece that holds the chain in place had
cracked in half. With only a few dollars I realized I would probably not be
able to get it fixed during the rest of my time there.
For most this would not be a huge deal, but a bike is an
extremely valuable possession in this situation. Being able to get downtown
each day is imperative for campers to get food, showers, and other services. I
chained my bike to the nearest road sign and got on a bus since I had a meeting
with the camp’s nonprofit organization that afternoon.
After the meeting I walked the three miles back to camp to
save bus fare, picking up my dejected bike along the way. As I entered camp,
someone asked how my day was. I explained what had happened. As we examined the
bike near the community's gathering area others joined us, including Dave who
identified the broken piece as a rear derailleur. He said he had worked fixing
bikes for years.
Usually reserved around me, Dave became quite engaged with
the chance to help with a problem he was knowledgeable about. A number of old
bikes were lying around so he suggested we replace my derailleur with one from
an unused bike - a task for which we needed a special tool. We sought out
Ethan, a military veteran with a wide selection of tools. Ethan sifted through
a large case to find the right fit. I was able to easily remove the broken
piece, and then start to replace it with a derailleur from an unused bike. But
none of them fit my bike properly. I was still out of luck.
The next day I met with Caleb who, upon hearing my problem,
helped me get a “Fare Deal” card which reduced my bus fare to $0.75.
Panhandling a few quarters from time to time or recycling a few bottles was not
a problem. Although my bike was still busted, I felt better about the situation
knowing there was a network of friends to help when needed.
It also reaffirmed my belief in the personal and social
dynamics of organized tent cities.
Individuals facing similar issues work together in
community, while simultaneously creating opportunities for personal healing and
growth. The person with the problem becomes part of the solution.
Where Ecovillages Fit
In
A key difference in this comparison is that ecovillages are
villages of choice, while organized tent cities, though autonomous in nature,
are camps of necessity. Also, outside of an often unintentionally small
footprint, tent cities lack the ecological dimension fundamental to
ecovillages. It takes a highly motivated community to take on such
responsibility, and many people believe homeless folks could never do it.
Portland’s Dignity Village disproves this. Formerly known as
Camp Dignity, the group was relocated dozens of times throughout the city, but
continued to demand a “third alternative” to the street or shelter. Their
relentless determination earned them a stable piece of city-owned land on which
the settlement has existed for over a decade, slowly evolving from a camp to a
village. Mark Lakeman, an
architect who helped facilitate the vision for the village, describes the
transition:
“[Camp
Dignity] started off as tents but immediately they were self-organized into
clusters. It was a nomadic form of a village at the start. As the camp was about
to transition into more permanent settlement patterns, we realized the last
10,000 years were going to play out in a decade. They were going to be able to
go from nomadic hunters and gatherers in a way—since they were subsisting off
of what they could find—to settling and then establishing a system of pathways,
nodes, and places; creating an urban fabric that actually reflected the people
who lived there.”
This vibrantly painted village of self-constructed homes and
gardens sets a precedent for how organized tent cities can transform spaces
into places. However, Dignity Village had a few special individuals committed
to building an ecologically-minded community, which is not always the case for
tent cities. I believe this lack of motivation is not due to disinterest or
incapability, but rather pressure to move on to more conventional shelter.
So, rather than
focus on rescuing people from tent cities, an intentional community, such as an
ecovillage, could adopt these unintentional communities, thereby broadening the
reach of the current ecovillage movement. We can expand sustainable communities
by including those residing in tents, the most basic of shelter!
At the simplest level, ecovillages could provide political
support to a local tent city as a viable alternative to conventional housing. A
network of support in the larger community is a key first step. Next, campers
could become involved at the ecovillage, learning practical skills to apply in
their own community. Ecovillagers could hold workshops at tent camps, providing
hands-on education and catalyzing the transition from camp to village. While
ecovillages expand their cause, organized tent cities could learn how to build
and heat small, eco-minded dwellings.
Eugene, Oregon may soon break ground on such a model.
Following the dismantling of the Occupy Eugene encampment late in 2011, the
city formed a task force to find “new and innovative” solutions to the city’s
homeless problem. Their recommendation: “a place to be.” At an Open Space
conference at the end of March, supporters of this initiative connected with
members of Maitreya Ecovillage, sparking the idea of a partnership between the
two. One member is excited about building tiny houses for the village, while
another is interested in presenting a model for more primitive structures that
would be useful in the early phase. Yet another has offered to lend his
knowledge of simple food production methods. We are working now to convince the
City Council.
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The Conestoga hut is capturing the heart of Eugene! Lately I’ve been spending quite a bit of time
over at the Tine Hive where we’ve been building a prototype, setting up a space
to intake material donations, and getting ready to organize work sessions where
volunteers will collaborate to build dozens of these little huts. This is the beginnings of a larger effort
that we are calling Community
Supported Shelters.
