Maybe it was the rash of recent news on people becoming homeless, or maybe it was seeing people obviously homeless and camping in their cars or drifting around town that got to me. Maybe it was seeing that worn, young bag lady walking to nowhere special, a droopy bag of belongings tossed over her shoulder.
Or maybe it was the TV spot of a father moved to tears as he expressed his gratitude to the Office of Hawaiian Affairs for getting his family into an affordable small home, something he never thought would happen.
Not one, but the combination of triggers worked on me along with the emotionally-charged fact that I, myself, had faced the fact of becoming homeless not once, but twice. I lay sleepless.
Images played unbidden on the inner screen of my mind — not only of the various types of dwellings human beings have developed in various cultures around the world and through time, but the humans that developed and built those differing habitats themselves.
• Caves: The first safe dwellings, to be sure. I recalled reading “Clan of the Cave Bear” and suffering along with Ayla, who didn’t fit with her rescuers in the monkey-like tribe. Also, my first visit walking into the gaping maw of the Ha‘ena dry cave, which I later learned sheltered the first Kauai fishermen who came from other parts of the island to camp in now-hidden upper chambers within it. My mind skipped on to the Maha‘ulepu “cave” when I first saw it after ducking through a dark entry tunnel with a skull-bonking protrusion to be avoided at all costs, and before the special archaeological digs and protections now in place. There were my more recent memories of the amazing, ancient sandstone clefts of Jordan’s Petra, both manmade and naturally formed.
• Castles: These are part of every person’s inner kid imaginings, whether “fairy” or Disney-style imaginings, or defined by ramparts and knights of old, such as my oldest son played with (a Sears Christmas gift) for countless hours.
• Sumptuous tents of Araby: Inner visions bloomed of sumptuous Persian carpets, skinny minarets and silken draperies — Ali Baba-type settings.
• Indian “daks” or godowns: Small, roughly constructed dwellings to which servants retired to eat and sleep from the bungalows of my youth.
• Igloos: I wondered as a school kid how anyone slept on an ice-shelf bed, furry robes or not. And how did the Eskimos cut those great blocks of ice and manage to sculpt them to fit into a curved shape?
• Stilt homes: All through Asia, these protect from flooding, insects and wild animals. Their sloped roofs channel off the rain.
• Yurts: My fifth-grade Junior Scholastic implied that the lives of Mongolian nomads centered around a home fashioned of hides and poles. How did the mothers feel about pulling up stakes to move so often, and how did they find time to embroider and fashion the prayer cloth hangings?
• Teepees, wigwams, hogans: I held the same questions for the North American tribes, and when did their girls and women get any privacy, and how did they store their beading and hide-sewing supplies without plastic boxes and compartmental “keepers”?
• Hale: Visualizing the thatched dwellings of Polynesian cultures. I once said such would be my dream house — if it were situated with a view of the ocean on golden sand under coconut palms (AND allowed me to hook up to a modem and Wi-Fi!). Now, after experiencing recent heavy, driving rains in “paradise” and remembering Hurricane ‘Iniki, I’ve rethought that idea.
The house a human calls home becomes part of that individual’s foundation, leading to the impact of the phrase “home, sweet home.” There comes a point in a life when backpacking and caravanning end, where one decides to plant one’s self and perhaps some trees and vegetables, and create a safe haven in which to raise a family.
Toddlers show the importance of home in some of their first drawings when, in our culture, the stick figures identified as mommy and daddy and self are shown with a dominant house. Sometimes this house has a door and windows; sometimes, a chimney and/or flowers. No matter the variations, the house looms, showing its importance as “home.” To be homeless erodes this foundational feeling of stability.
So, whether it’s an igloo, hut, hovel or mansion, or underground “oasis” house of Coober Pedy, Australia, or a rondavel of Lesotho, South Africa, what matters is that one may call it home.
Homelessness on our island is not just about people who are down and out, people who may or may not choose to enter another level of society. Responsible people who do work hard and earn decent wages are going homeless.
The crisis at hand centers on not having enough truly affordable home properties and rentals available to our full-time residents. It’s a fact that Kauai people cannot easily find affordable housing, that the inflated housing costs and jacked-up rents are causing even good earners to join the ranks of the homeless.
It’s dishonest to permit and label dwellings “affordable” that are, in fact, not so, or fall out of that category back to market price within 10 years. It’s not enough to discount permitting costs for home additions.
Dear Readers, I implore you to brainstorm and submit your ideas for creative solutions to The Garden Island’s Forum for publication with copies to the appropriate county department heads, charging them to act on this matter, perhaps improvising on the housing innovations just now being implemented on Hawaii island.
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Dawn Fraser Kawahara, author and poet, made her home on Kauai in the 1980s. She and her husband, a retired biology teacher, live with books, music and birds in Wailua Homesteads. Shared passions are travel and nature. The writer’s books may be found in local outlets and on Amazon. Email her at tropicbirdpress@gmail.com.
Perhaps FB founder and billionaire extraordinaire Mark Zuckerberg, could contribute something. Hear me out-as he lavishes in his enclave in Silicon Valley-the millions he has spent gobbling up Kauai land, can be put to good. Use. Instead of portioning the burden of re-homing the homeless upon the state, Zuckerberg should use his charitable persona, and build a collection of tiny homes to shelter these unfortunate souls. Surely, letting go of some of his millions to help others is a virtue he espouses, like others of his generation.
If a homeless person has the funds to get the proper permits, comply with zoning laws, and build a tiny home on land they own, I say kudos to them. But again, why should our tax dollars go to subsidize homes for folks who, unfortunately for whatever reason (and I don’t believe most are “hardworking families” who have had some poor luck), can’t afford to live on Kauai? I want my tax dollars to repair roads, fix bridges, put solar on government buildings, and be spent in ways that benefit most citizens, not just a few.
Dawn, thank you for your heartfelt thoughts about Kauai’s housing plight.
I encourage you to look into 3D printed homes as a possible approach to this serious issue.
I am surprised that this technology does not seem to be being taken seriously in Hawaii.
Additionally, one has only to glance at the vacant commercial buildings all around Lihue, to see that much
could be done, through renovation, to provide low-cost housing to our struggling working-class,
as well as providing safe-haven for our homeless.
Are there federal funds potentially available for such projects ?
It’s not enough to submit solutions. They need to be implemented. People have been writing about this for years, but the government has done nothing. The private sector does most of the work. Then, quite a few of the homeless people will not follow the rules set up for them when they enter the FREE shelters. If they don’t follow the rules, then they cannot loiter. They need to go to jail. Period.
The root cause of poverty and homelessness is dispossession from the earth–having to pay someone else for the “privilege” of occupying space on this planet–which should be recognized as a basic human right!
The current enmity towards corporations does not address the root cause of homelessness and the growing rich-poor gap. That is powered not by human effort (including corporate effort) but by treating natural resources as private property. Rather than taxing productive human effort and the wealth created by human effort, tax all natural resources at their full annual rental value. All property taxes, for instance, would be based only on the value of the land, not on the value of the buildings and other improvements. No sales tax, payroll taxes, income tax, etc.–let people keep everything they have earned through their efforts (whether physical or mental), and let them freely exchange anything they have thereby earned or created.
Drugs are also a privilege.