When the Wentworth-Caldwell Park homeless encampment in South Nashville closed in March, it was fenced off and “No Trespassing” signs were mounted. The same happened at the former site of the Brookmeade encampment, which was closed in January.
Metro Parks and the Metro Nashville Police Department collaborated to clean the spaces and ensure no one would return while they were renovated.
Many residents of both camps were quickly shuffled into low-barrier housing options, such as hotel rooms and Mobile Housing Navigation Centers. For one reason or another, though, other residents weren’t.
So while local movements like “Reclaim Brookmeade Park” were vindicated in their desire for the camps to close, the remaining unhoused have been pushed into hiding. With Tennessee legislation having criminalized public camping, there are few places to turn for anyone without a home.
“They have to do what I call ‘going fluid…’ they scatter,” said John Bull, a long-time outreach volunteer at Open Table Nashville.
Bull said the displacements introduce yet another daily challenge for Nashvillians struggling to survive — the need to stay out of sight and avoid putting up a visible tent. And at their worst, these dispersions are fatal, he said, as homeless citizens grappling with health issues or substance abuse struggle to maintain access to necessary resources.
“I’ve been [volunteering in South Nashville] for six years, okay, I can’t recall [the last time that I’ve known] at least six people dead in one month’s time. That makes a statement right there.”
As a companion to these closures, the city’s Metro Homeless Impact Division has organized what it calls “housing surges” — outreach events wherein encampment residents are presented with housing opportunities, have their needs assessed, and are referred to mental health or shuttle services as needed.
“They started having these resource fairs and days where MHID would come out to the encampment and enter everyone into Coordinated Entry,” explained India Pungarcher, an advocate and street outreach worker at Open Table Nashville.
“And then there were also days where they’d come out and give a piece of paper to camp residents and say, you know, ‘this encampment is going to experience a housing surge, everyone’s gonna be offered housing options, and the camp will be closed by Parks.’ There wasn’t always an exact or precise date for the closure.”
Harriet Wallace, MHID’s Communications Director, said the approach was a “success,” saying that 140 individuals were housed with just the first surge.
“So far, no one has refused service and housing,” Wallace said. “We offer everyone housing options based on their needs and available resources and they select where they want to live. Case management is offered every step of the process and continues beyond placement. We want them to not only get housing but keep their housing; that means helping them improve life stability and quality of life.”
Wallace highlighted that even if the new living situation offered is not guaranteed to be a permanent fixture, it is better than being forced to sleep outside.
“Any time you can help someone transition from living outdoors to safe environments with a roof and running water, that’s a win.”
While this approach has worked for many and gotten them into low-barrier hotel units or transitional beds at MHNCs, local advocates and homeless citizens say there are gaps in the city’s strategy.
BJ Dolan and her husband Aaron Nettles are two members of South Nashville’s homeless community who, despite being residents of the Wentworth-Caldwell camp during recent housing surges, have been left without workable options to get a roof overhead.
“I can’t get a job because I don’t have any permanent supportive housing. I’m just so frustrated,” said Dolan. “They passed me by.”
Imprisoned during a surge, Dolan was unable to reclaim her belongings when the camps were being cleared out and referrals were being made. When she returned and everything was gone — including transitional hotel beds to claim — she and Nettles were back to square one.
Dolan also noted that even when people at local camps are given options that work for them, it’s always been a problem that they might fall out of housing due to a lack of permanent support, even if offered case management. If they aren’t able to work with the options they’re given due to a mental health issue, a substance dependency, or other obstacles navigating their own housing, opportunities pass them by and they get left behind.
“People get into housing on [Section 8], and they’re back out here because they can’t fill out paperwork … and I’ve been out here for four years. I just want some help with housing.”
Pungarcher said that a process as fast-paced as the recent housing surges cannot account for every camp resident — particularly not in the long-term, trauma-informed manner that is often necessary to ensure they don’t fall out of housing.
“Even coming out a handful of times, you don’t get to know who’s all there, where they are, or keep up with them,” said Pungarcher.
“We’ve been out there — not just us, other outreach groups too — we’ve been out there for years, there are folks who are long-term residents there, and they were in the hospital or they were in jail. We believe those folks still deserve and should receive a housing referral. When you’re just coming in for the first time to enact this housing surge or this camp closure, there’s just this disconnect. It’s not able to capture every single person.”
And even if the city and non-profits could collaboratively find every single resident, the city still suffers a crucial gap in available, affordable housing.
“All these outreach workers are making this list of who’s all in the area … then it’s like, ‘who from this list can we find first and the fastest?’ And that’s who got into the hotel units. Then all that was left was Mobile Housing Navigation Center beds. With those, there’s only so many couple’s beds… I don’t know if any of them take pets.”
With advocacy options limited for a community being pushed to the fringes, Pungarcher said she hoped Nashville residents would champion the rights of the homeless with the same zeal that some call for encampment closures.
“I wish there was that much effort into yelling at folks at the state level, or Metro Council Members to make these incredibly steep investments into affordable housing, you know? We can invest hundreds of millions, billions of dollars in a new stadium. I’d love to get that buy-in and fervor into investing in our housing stock.
Bull echoed Pungarcher’s sentiment, saying it was in everyone’s common interest to be a good neighbor and advocate for the unhoused.
“I got a catchphrase: We’re all in this together.”