A couple of teenagers just walked by and I heard one say (of my signs), “Housing rights? What does that mean?” It means that I am stranded in a city that thinks it’s okay to label me a criminal at 10 pm for living in my RV, which has been my home for eight years. It means I am on a street where the neighbors hate me and have banned “oversized vehicles” because we on their street. No other reason. They come and yell outside my door, “I am fighting to get you towed.” I am here because I have nowhere else to shelter-in-place. This is a pandemic, for crying out loud.
I have a mobile mechanic working (only on weekends), on credit. I have to wait for the stimulus for the deposit on the RV park system I am going to be living at in the Sacramento valley as soon as I can finish the repairs and pass smog. In the meanwhile, I have to endure not only the NIMBY neighbors but also the official stance is there is no place (or assistance) for RV dwellers in San Francisco. I have been told repeatedly that I can get be given a bed in a congregant shelter. I am 60, with suspected cancer and other health issues and my husband of 27-years died seven months ago. I just want to be in our home, with his ashes and our possessions, not to mention our bed.
So yeah, a lack of housing rights is the root of the problem.