The homelessness crisis in the United States is a profound and persistent issue, deeply rooted in structural challenges such as the lack of a living wage, skyrocketing housing costs, and insufficient access to mental health and addiction services. According to the National Low Income Housing Coalition’s 2021 report “The Gap,” 70% of extremely low-income families spend more than half their income on rent, and for every 100 extremely low-income renter households, only 37 affordable and available homes exist. These systemic inequities are compounded by policies that fail to address the root causes of homelessness and instead focus on punitive measures, such as criminalizing homelessness rather than providing solutions like affordable housing and accessible support services.
Adding to these structural barriers is the stigma
surrounding homelessness. Society often views homelessness as a personal
failing—a harmful stereotype that dehumanizes unhoused individuals and
perpetuates their marginalization. This stigma not only isolates those
experiencing homelessness but also erases the systemic and personal traumas
that often lead to their situation. Many unhoused individuals face domestic
violence, systemic racism, and generational poverty. These traumas, in turn,
are exacerbated by the experience of homelessness itself, creating a vicious
cycle. As John Oliver’s Last Week Tonight segment on homelessness
highlights, shelters often degrade their residents by enforcing strict curfews,
wake-up calls, and dehumanizing rules. Such policies strip individuals of
autonomy and dignity, further alienating them from society and deepening their
sense of exclusion.
This marginalization is one of the most dehumanizing aspects
of homelessness. Unhoused individuals are frequently ignored or treated as
invisible by the broader public, reinforcing their social isolation. This
societal neglect not only denies them access to critical resources but also
perpetuates harmful narratives that blame them for their circumstances. To
address homelessness effectively, we must challenge these narratives and
recognize the humanity of those who are unhoused.
The concept of "home" plays a pivotal role in this discussion. From a social geography perspective, home is not merely a physical structure but a multifaceted space that influences identity, behaviors, and well-being. Gill Valentine’s Social Geographies: Space and Society describes home as a “matrix of social relations” with deep symbolic and ideological meanings. Similarly, Robert Imrie, in “Disability, Embodiment, and the Meaning of Home,” argues that the meaning of home varies across individuals and households based on factors like age, gender, and social class. The home is a key site in the construction of identity. Morrison (2013) describes homemaking as a process that embodies, reflects, and supports identities through daily routines, intimate relationships, and meaningful objects (as cited in Whitson, 2017, p. 52). Additionally, Blunt & Dowling (2006) explain how the physical home engages with the social aspect of the home through people's lived experience, helping to construct and support their identities, or sense of themselves (Blunt & Dowling, 2006, as cited in Whitson, 2017, p. 52). For those experiencing homelessness, the absence of a home that embraces elements other than just physical shelter disrupts their sense of identity, social relationships, and overall mental health.
Unfortunately, existing shelters often fail to provide the
elements that make a place feel like home. Many shelters prioritize efficiency
over comfort and dignity, which can make spaces feel cold and institutional.
Overcrowding, lack of privacy, and a failure to meet the diverse needs of
residents are common issues that contribute to the dehumanization of unhoused
people. Beyond physical discomfort, the lack of intangible elements—such as
community, stability, and autonomy—is another reason unhoused individuals are
often hesitant to leave encampments for shelters. Camps, while far from ideal,
sometimes offer a sense of connection and shared experience that many shelters
fail to replicate.
This is where trauma-informed design can make a significant
difference. Trauma-informed design emphasizes principles such as safety,
security, trust, empowerment, collaboration, and cultural sensitivity. In
shelters, this could involve creating private sleeping spaces to ensure
personal safety and dignity, incorporating natural light and biophilic elements
to reduce stress, providing secure storage for personal belongings, and
designing communal areas that encourage positive social interactions. Research
in environmental psychology underscores how thoughtfully designed spaces can
reduce stress, promote healing, and support better outcomes for those
transitioning out of homelessness. For example, environments that offer
autonomy and personal agency—such as flexible spaces where residents can make
choices about their surroundings—foster a sense of empowerment and control,
which are critical for overcoming trauma.
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A study by Ajeen et al. (2022) provides empirical support
for the benefits of trauma-informed design. The research evaluated the redesign
of resident bedrooms at two homeless shelters in North Carolina, focusing on
preparedness, hopefulness, and safety. Residents completed surveys before and
after the redesign, and the results showed statistically significant
improvements in all three areas, with the largest improvements for safety and
overall well-being. Qualitative findings also revealed that residents felt the
updates increased their experiences of dignity and safety, with some reporting
heightened feelings of hope. These findings highlight the transformative impact
of trauma-informed spaces on the psychological well-being of residents.
Shelters often face funding constraints, which makes implementing trauma-informed design challenging. However, it is important to recognize that there are varying degrees to which shelters can embrace these principles. Even modest changes, such as improving lighting or adding personal storage, can have a meaningful impact. Furthermore, investing in trauma-informed design is cost-effective in the long run. By creating spaces that improve outcomes and help residents transition to permanent housing, shelters can reduce the need for continued government spending on homelessness-related programs. When shelters foster stability and empowerment, they mitigate future costs associated with healthcare, criminal justice, and emergency services. Addressing the root causes of homelessness and improving the design of shelters is not just a moral imperative—it’s an economic one.
The tenets of trauma-informed design align closely with
evidence-based practices in environmental psychology. These principles advocate
for spaces that are calm and predictable, reducing sensory overload and
fostering feelings of safety. This approach also emphasizes the importance of
community connection, integrating spaces that encourage social support and
collaboration while maintaining boundaries for privacy. When applied to
shelters, these principles transform them from dehumanizing stops into
restorative spaces that rebuild a sense of home and belonging. By addressing
the psychological and emotional needs of residents, trauma-informed shelters
can help break the cycle of homelessness and provide a foundation for long-term
stability.
As someone deeply interested in the intersection of
geography, design, and human behavior, this topic is of major interest to me.
I’ve always been fascinated by how the spaces we inhabit influence our
identities and behaviors. Our environments shape us in profound ways, often
subconsciously, and understanding this dynamic gives us the power to create
spaces that empower and uplift. Shelters that embrace trauma-informed
principles and prioritize the dignity of their residents can not only improve
the quality of life for unhoused individuals but also increase their odds of
finding permanent housing and rebuilding their lives.
Addressing homelessness is not just about providing a roof
over someone’s head, it’s about creating spaces that restore dignity, foster
stability, and nurture hope. Through combining an understanding of structural
inequalities with the transformative power of design, we can reimagine what it
means to offer shelter and, in doing so, move closer to a more just and
equitable society.
References:
Ajeen, R., Ajeen, D., Wisdom, J. P., Greene, J. A., Lepage,
T., Sjoelin, C., Melvin, T., Hagan, T. E., Hunter, K. F., Peters, A., Mercer,
R., & Brancu, M. (2023). The impact of trauma-informed design on
psychological well-being in homeless shelters. Psychological Services, 20(3),
680–689. https://doi.org/10.1037/ser0000724
Blunt, A., & Dowling, R. (2006). Home. Routledge.
Imrie, R. (2004). Disability, embodiment, and the meaning of
the home. Housing Studies, 19(5), 745–763.
https://doi.org/10.1080/0267303042000249189
Morrison, C.-A. (2013). Homemaking and subjectivities. In
Whitson, R. (2017). Spaces of culture and identity production: Home,
consumption, and the media.
National Low Income Housing Coalition. (2021). The Gap: The
affordable housing gap analysis 2021. Retrieved from https://nlihc.org/gap
Oliver, J. (2021). Homelessness: Last Week Tonight with John
Oliver (HBO). Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com
Valentine, G. (2001). Social geographies: Space and society.
Essex, England: Pearson Education Ltd
Whitson, R. (2017). Spaces of culture and identity
production: Home, consumption, and the media.
HOK. (n.d.). Trauma-informed design for homeless
populations. Retrieved from https://hok.com
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