Day 12


Day 12: It’s everywhere

I’m in Eyam, famous as the Plague Village. I’m not here because it is overrun with homelessness. Though rural homelessness is real and the locals can tell you about supporting people who have made the countryside their none-home. 

Quite simply, Eyam Parish Church is where the idea of a fourteen day sleep out began. My day here has felt like a ‘break’ from being homeless and I feel a bit guilty for not being more hardcore. Afterall, I’m supposed to be homeless. 

On my way here I had a conversation with someone who had slept rough for two weeks. It wasn’t in a rural village, but it was in her local community. She didn’t run away to the city. And it was ‘hardcore’ homelessness. But most of her homelessness wasn’t sleeping rough. She survived by using friends’ homes when life went wrong. For her it was always domestic violence. Interestingly, she distinguished between times when there was no physical violence, it was just that home had become dangerous, and real violence when she had to flea for fear of physical injury.

Her two weeks of rough sleeping had been carefully managed. She tried to give the appearance of not being homeless. She visited friends during the day, saying nothing about not being able to go home. Why? Because she was ashamed. She was embarrassed. She thought everybody would think her weak or stupid. So, she acted. She pretended all was okay and spent her time visiting friends. Then, when she had outstayed her welcome, she went to another friend until she felt her only choice was to go and hide in the local churchyard. The next day she would do exactly the same. The churchyard was where she slept. 

That was the first time. Then the violence became ‘real’. She told her friends and they let her stay for the periods she couldn’t go home. She wasn’t rough sleeping, but she was homeless. She still felt ashamed. And let’s be frank, it was still hardcore homelessness.

Another woman we worked with said that after a while of using a friend she felt the need to return to the street. Her friend didn’t kick her out. She just felt uncomfortable putting on them. ‘They were a couple. How could they be a couple with me sleeping on their sofa?” It limited them, she argued. She felt an intruder and went back to the street.

I felt just a tiny bit of that yesterday as I was welcomed by Merlyn and Paul, who for years have been supporters of the Archer Project. I haven’t been in a home for ten days and felt reluctant because I smell. I didn’t want to take my shoes off as I went in because my feet stink. They didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, quite the opposite, being homeless does that for me. 

If you want to know more about changing the lives of people who are homeless visit www.archerproject.org.uk 

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