Mirroring the Federal government’s assault on civil rights in pursuit of security, San Francisco has begun chipping away at the due process accorded to homeless San Franciscans. Against the backdrop of the usual police harassment and recent escalation of park sweeps, now the protective policies that have guaranteed some amount of due process are under attack.
When you are tired and need to sit down, you may notice that there is no place to sit on Haight Street other than the Municipal bus stop. At times on a hectic day, these seats are occupied and the only other place to rest your weary bones is the sidewalk. With no other place to call home, many homeless people find sanctuary sitting on these public walkways, minding their own business, occasionally lighting a cigarette.
Homelessness is an issue that intersects the lives of all the people of San Francisco. Over the past 20 years, the situation has worsened, affecting not only homeless individuals, families and children but also residents, neighborhoods, businesses, and the tourism industry. According to the Coroners Office, on average, over 100 people die each year on the streets while, according to the Mayor’s 2005 Homeless Count, at least an estimated 6,000 are without permanent homes on any one night. It is important to note that these numbers are in fact human lives and they reveal a larger social tragedy and modern moral failure.
According to a study last year by the World Bank, Switzerland, my home country, is the richest nation on this planet. The US comes in a close fourth, right after Denmark and Sweden. In the poorest countries, such as Ethiopia, up to half the money comes from natural resources; in Switzerland, that proportion is close to one percent. Basically, my country, which lies in the very heart of Europe, is rich because it posesses an awful lot of immaterial capital such as an education system and a functioning system of law. The same goes also for the US, I suppose.
The first time I was homeless I was seventeen years old. It was not safe, had never been safe, for me to be in the house of my parents. I ended up on the streets in San Diego. I remember standing inside a phone booth, and calling the operator, and saying that I was 17 and had no where to go. I was told that there were ten beds for homeless youth at that time in San Diego, and that all were full.
