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By MATTHEW JOYCE HOW DOES a city gain strength from tragedy? How do we find retribution in constructive solutions rather than in vengeance? The emotional response to the attempted rape of an 8-year-old girl by Brian McCutcheon has been remarkable. Bitterness, fear and fury have saturated the city's airwaves and newspapers like few other occasions in recent memory. And most of the commentary has centered on McCutcheon's homelessness. "Pass tough laws that get these people out of public spaces," wrote one angry resident. "Why are homeless people allowed to use the libraries for shelter?" asked another. We have reacted to an individual's criminal behavior with generalized fear, and in so doing have begun to let the true problem slip though our hands. The war we wage should be on homelessness, not the homeless themselves. Tougher restrictions in libraries, a stronger police presence and public fear of the homeless are counterproductive reactions. They further isolate the city's most vulnerable citizens and will only cause residents to feel secure until the next violent crime gives us a new population to dread, and the leaves the homeless behind once again. But fury can be a powerful resource, and as a city we have the opportunity to use our disgust to make positive change. Rather than waste our agency punishing the innocent, let's use it to question a homeless system that may spend $120 million each year, yet can't seem to make progress in permanently housing and stabilizing its clients. Brian McCutcheon lived outdoors, on the streets. His homelessness did not cause the predatory sickness necessary to commit rape - far more "housed" individuals commit the same crime each year - but it hindered him from obtaining the help and stability he needed. Andrew Erkkila, an outreach volunteer who had a number of conversations with McCutcheon before his arrest, said, "He talked about the Ridge shelter. [He] had some bad experiences there and elaborated on how cutthroat those places can be." But in Philadelphia, many homeless men have no alternative but the notoriously brutal Ridge Avenue facility if they are seeking city shelter - which drove McCutcheon to the streets. Until the violent attack on a young girl, homelessness seemed acceptable in Philadelphia. Residents were lulled to sleep by public officials' encouraging one-liners and congratulatory editorials about the city's proclaimed success in reducing homelessness. Now that attention on homelessness has resurfaced, the public fight has targeted its visibility rather than the system that maintains it. For too long the homeless population, on the streets and in shelters, has remained unchanged, yet the vast majority of city money goes toward the continuation of existing services. Monday's rally at City Hall, initiated primarily by residents of the Ridge shelter, showed the homeless' exasperation with the current system. Currently, we have no money to prevent people who are at-risk of becoming homeless from losing their housing. Instead, we continue to promote unproven policies and programs that often lock the homeless into temporary housing for months and years before deeming them eligible to continue their lives in their own place. Rather than exhaust our energy vilifying those without a home, let's help make certain that they get one. Let's push for a system that makes homelessness a temporary situation and not let it define people's lives. We can ensure that no homeless individuals or families will be forced to spend their days in libraries and other public spaces, and we can do it without heightened security and increased restrictions. With a public and private commitment to refocus our homeless resources on ending the problem rather than managing it, we can make housing a priority again in Philadelphia. Let's make that the objective of our rage. Matthew Joyce (mjoyce@pceh.org) is a policy analyst with the Philadelphia Committee to End Homelessness. Article reprinted from the Philadelphia Daily News, February 26, 2004.
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