COMMONWEALnThe Myth of thenHomeless Familynby Dan McMurrynIhad just finished delivering the keynotenaddress at the Hesburgh PublicnPolicy Colloquium on “Housing andnHomelessness” at the University ofnNotre Dame, and the questioning hadnbegun. After a number of questions ofnthe kind that every audience asks — andnrightfully so — about my experiencesnposing as a homeless man, someonenasked the question. Now the questionncan focus on a number of specificnissues about homelessness, but it isnalways asked in a manner that pits theninformation I have just given the audiencenagainst some part of the homelessnactivists’ propaganda. In this case thenquestion was about homeless families.nBarry Zigas, of the Nahonal LownIncome Housing Coalition, raised hisnhand, got my attention, and said: “ProfessornMcMurry, in your talk younseemed to characterize almost all thenhomeless as being disabled by one ornmore serious personal pathologies —nalcoholism, mental illness, ex-prisoners.nHow do you respond to the newsnthat about 40 percent of the homelessnare families and that they are the mostn52/CHRONICLESnVITAL SIGNSnrapidly increasing group?”nI reached into my jacket pocket andnretrieved the notes that I had madeneadier that afternoon while being givenna tour of the Center for the Homelessnin downtown South Bend.nI had been very impressed by thenway the Center had organized its program.nHoly smokes, I thought when Inwalked into the shelter, they’re havingna party! The homeless people werenwandering around wearing name tagsn— color-coded at that. Naturally, thenfirst question I asked was about thentags. “Well,” said Rayeann, the socialnworker giving us the tour, “the colornindicates what part of the program thenperson is working in and also what theirnmajor problem is. Blue means that thenperson is actively looking for work,ngreen means they have a mental ornemotional problem and are seeing anmental health counselor, and yellownmeans they are part of a family. Orangentags, which you don’t see becausenthey are not allowed in here during thenday, indicate that the person has ‘justncopped out’ and doesn’t want to signnup for any help. So they can come innfor supper, a cot, and breakfast andnthen have to leave.”nClearly, this easily-installed effort atnorganization is a great improvementnover the laissez-faire approach of mostnshelters I had visited. Other sheltersnusually have plenty of resources and annadequate staff, but they allow the clientsnto just wander around, rarely getdngnhooked up with what they need.n”And, in addidon,” Rayeann said, “wencan tell at a glance who just came in,nwho’s ‘visiting,’ and who needs what.”nOne of the questions I always ask atnthe shelters is about families. As wencontinued our tour through a roomnwhere children were playing andnthrough the spotless kitchen, I asked it:n”Where do families stay?” And herenRayeann’s answer was like all thenothers. “Well, here is the family section.nThe single women sleep here,nand the women with children are innthese rooms,” she said, pointing to annnrow of closed doors, “where there isnmore privacy.”nAnd as usual, I asked, “How aboutnthe husband-wife families?” Therenwere no provisions for husbands in thenshelter. I asked why not. “Let’s see,”nshe said as she paused and lookednquizzical for a moment, “we’ve hadnonly one or two couples since thenshelter opened in August.” Not families,n”couples.” In South Bend, Indiana,na city of over one hundred thousand,nin a county of almost one-quarternof a million, an hour and a half fromnChicago, with any number of servicesnfor the homeless, there were no homelessnfamilies.nThis came as no surprise to me; innfact, I rather expected it. I had beennlooking for families among the homelessnfor several years and was unable tonfind any except for the extremely rarencouple usually brought to my attentionnby the press. But surely homeless familiesnmust be everywhere, because thenpopular media, in their continuousncoverage of the homeless, have overnand over said — and on TV showed —nthat homeless families are numerousnand increasing rapidly.nDuring the eady 80’s, the terms then”new poor” and the “new homeless”nwere used to indicate to the reader thatnthese “families” made up the bulk ofnthese unfortunate groups. As agenciesnwere formed to absorb the largenamount of money becoming availablento aid the homeless, the term the “newnhomeless” soon came to stand fornhomelessness in general. Thus, thenconcerned public’s notion of who thenhomeless were was formed by thesenagencies putting (for obvious reasons)nthe best face possible on their homelessnclients. And the best face possible fornthem was the rare — or nonexistent—nhomeless family.nMy own search for homeless familiesnas a part of my study had consumednmuch of my time and energynbut had been nearly fruidess. In additionnto interviewing shelter operators,nagency workers, volunteers. Salvationn