This past week, I began a dialogue with a student
who has been homeless for almost three weeks. She is an undergrad student at a
university in Chicago. This person was introduced to me through a friend and
wishes to remain anonymous.
Rachel, as
this student will be known, broke up with her boyfriend about three weeks ago. Her
boyfriend also happened to be her roommate at the time. Needless to say, relations
between them have ceased and they are no longer speaking to one another. Rachel
now lives out of her car, sometimes staying the night at friends’ apartments.
“I never really thought this would happen,” she
begins. “I only have a few more weeks of class and then I am going to stay with
my parents in Kentucky” until next semester “when I hope to have another
apartment.” For now, though, she feels
she needs to stay in Chicago so that she can finish out the semester. She has
been spending most of her time on campus, usually at the library. At night, she
sleeps in her car in a parking garage, where she “feels safer,” but more often
she will hunker down for the night on a side street near campus. Sometimes, she
is able to stay with a friend. When I asked if she had sought out help, she
explained that only her closest friends are aware of the situation and that it
would be “too embarrassing” to involve anyone else. She did mention, however,
that if the problem were more permanent, then she might seek help from those
outside her closest circle of friends.
She let me look in her car, which is filled with all
of her things. She informed me that most of her stuff, though, is at her
parent’s place in Kentucky. She made “a trip down there a few weeks ago when
this first happened.”
I asked how this situation has affected her studies
and she admits that it has been difficult. She doesn’t know if this is just
because she is sleeping in her car or because she just recently broke up with
her boyfriend. “It is probably a mixture of the two,” she admits. She has not
discussed her situation with any of her professors. Rachel feels she is doing
well and can “make it” until the end of the semester. She tries not to compare
her situation to others who might “have to live this kind of a life” on a more permanent
basis, but she acknowledges that it is tough. For instance, when she sleeps in
her car, not only is it uncomfortable, which is something many of us likely
think about, but she has nowhere to plug in her phone, which is something I
would bet is something hardly anyone thinks about. So she has to make sure it
is charged before she goes to sleep because her phone also serves as her alarm
clock.
When she is not at friend’s house, she usually finds
herself on campus, either really earlier for class, in a hallway somewhere reading
or on her phone. She showers at the gym on campus and thus has been forced to adjust
her schedule to when this facility opens and closes. Sometimes she is able to
“freshen up at a friend’s” place. When she is looking to settle in for the
night, she will usually park her car near an IHOP, or 24-hour restaurant, so
that she has access to a bathroom. Asked how she would react if her classmates
found out, she said, “I would be mortified… I’m sure they would want to help,
or probably wouldn’t even care, but who would ever want people knowing that
they’re sleeping in a car?”
Rachel’s situation,
as she pointed out, is only for a little while. She has arrangements to live
with her parents in a few weeks when classes end. But her situation highlights
the fact that homeless students do not want to be found. They may want help,
but they do not want it if it means others have to find out about their
situation. I would imagine this applies to students who are homeless for longer
periods of time as well. As a future higher education practitioner, it will be
important to keep this in mind. It will be important for me to let the students
know that they can come to me and I will help them with any situation.
