Andrew and Ashley Vizenor count themselves lucky. Within days of the city of Minneapolis ordering everyone out of the homeless encampment at 29th Street and 14th Avenue S., they were assigned an apartment at American House in St. Paul.
They packed their bags Wednesday afternoon in high spirits, eagerly awaiting the arrival of caseworkers to help them move. Still, they worried about the fate of friends left behind.
Minneapolis posted vacate notices June 27 at the Midtown Phillips encampment after neighbors raised concerns about vandalism and safety. It could be cleared at anytime. Similar notices were issued a few days later at the Near North camp at 205 Girard Av. as well as the Quarry camp, located in northeast Minneapolis. As many as 180 homeless campers in total may be forced out.
While the threat of a city sweep of the campsites looms — city officials said they stopped posting exact eviction dates in an effort to avoid clashing with encampment defenders — residents have mostly stayed put. Waiting for housing like the Vizenors got, many say they would rather take their chances on the street than go to an emergency shelter.
Andrew Vizenor, 33, had grown up in Minneapolis' American Indian community and said he had been homeless on and off since age 12 after his father died and mother left. Ashley, who works at a restaurant in the Mall of America, is four months pregnant. They had lived in the Midtown Phillips tent compound two months, but hoped moving on would start their child on better footing.
The Phillips encampment grew from a few tents to more than 100 residents in a matter of weeks. Neighbors gathering at a community meeting last week complained of homemade "incendiary devices, stray bullets, significant property damage, burglaries, harm to neighborhood pets," city spokeswoman Sarah McKenzie said.
The Vizenors empathize with immediate neighbors. "There are people here that, including us, actually really appreciate being able to just have someplace to sleep at night, a little bit of privacy ... It's not everybody. It's really not," Ashley Vizenor said.
Finding the space
Last month, a Homeless Response Team set up tables outside the Near North camp, helping residents determine what kind of living situation they could hold down. But the county program that city outreach coordinators would normally refer unsheltered residents to, the Homeless to Housing Program, has been at capacity for more than a month.
Since spring, Homeless to Housing's 32 workers have helped more than 195 unsheltered people get IDs and Social Security cards, apply for rental assistance, find rental properties, move and access support services to help sustain their housing. But staff have full caseloads and are temporarily unable to take on any new clients, said David Hewitt, Hennepin County's director of Housing Stability.
"We need to concentrate on getting these couple hundred people we're already working with into housing because absolutely housing is the goal here, not getting people on a list," he said.
In addition to the Homeless to Housing program, homeless shelters also have case managers who work with people in their shelters, Hewitt pointed out.
On June 27, the day that notices were first posted at 29th and 14th, the county shelter system started with 97 single shelter beds available for reservation, seven pay-for-stay beds, four couples beds and unlimited family shelter, according to spokeswoman Maria Baca. Those spaces filled throughout the day, and all the men's beds were ultimately used. The following days had similar capacity.
If all three camps were evicted at once, there wouldn't be enough space in shelter for all their residents.
"Without access to much more resources, there is no way the 180 or so people across these three camps can get housing this summer," said encampment volunteer Benjamin Melançon. "Without government aid or an unprecedented influx of donations an order of magnitude more than ever received by Minneapolis Northside Mutual Aid or other groups, our focus has to be on stopping the evictions."
Trying to survive
The Near North encampment, located on an undeveloped slice of city land, has survived two years thanks to support from volunteers, the Harrison Neighborhood Association and city council members. Activists have twice rebuffed eviction attempts.
Yet the city also receives pressure to clear the camp from individual neighbors who declined to be identified. They raised concerns about trash and debris.
Those living in the encampment spent the past month trying to clean up in response to those complaints.
"We're putting everything in piles, scooping the piles up, keeping it that much safer and cleaner," said camp resident Carl Johnson, who blames some of the garbage on illegal dumping.
Kayla Giddings, who has lived at the camp by the Quarry shopping center since last summer, predicts that if evicted, people will scatter back to the streets to camp along the river or in wooded areas. They inevitably come back together in search of safety, Naloxone and supplies volunteers provide — food, ice water and cell phones.
The Quarry camp is tucked in the overgrowth between the Home Depot parking lot and Interstate 35. The camp is so out of the way that many Quarry shoppers are unaware of its existence.
"We have enough chaos in our lives," Giddings said. "We're not trying to cause chaos or havoc or be disrespectful in any way, shape, or form. We're just trying to survive."