By Miguel Louis

On Saturday April 12, local homeless residents called for a press conference, so they could respond to the county’s new “scattered site mitigation plan” and the measures taken by the city as a result.

The week before, the city undertook a new project at the Deschutes Encampment. In the course of three mornings, they cleaned the trash and belongings that did not belong to residents of the camp and coordinated with residents to label their things. Originally the City had requested for a police presence, but after the residents spoke to the city coordinator, Teal Russell, the call was canceled.

In attendance were a reporter from The Olympian and the CPJ, a couple activists, and a few homeless neighbors gathered around a picnic table.

The first homeless person to speak, and the main director of the conference, was Frederick Abrams, who has lived outside in Olympia for over five years.

“Hello, my name is Frederick Abrams, living in Olympia the last five years, outside. We’ve once again made it through yet another year in this hostile environment, but not only do we have to fight for our survival out here, we are being threatened in our survival by city officials making demands of our livelihood, without asking our needs and concerns.”

“Yes, most of the camps look like wastelands. We have a big challenge that we have been struggling through, but slowly we are coming around the corner to success. In order for change to be made, we need to be able to give our viewpoints on the pilot programs the county wants to implement, so that success can be achieved by all.”

“The real problem is obviously housing. All ways in which we would be housed, we would need at least 30 percent of funds that we don’t currently have.”

“The scattered site management private partnership program is a failure right from the start.” Frederick had the plan laid on the table before him, with policy they disagreed with highlighted in marker. “Assisting us with a ‘full spectrum of sheltering/housing options’. That’s not even possible. All the shelters are full.”

“‘Reducing environmental and community impacts not fit for human habitation’. Really? Not fit for human habitation? If regular residents didn’t have trash cans, they would pile up trash in front of their houses. And if the city didn’t pick it up, their trash would pile up just like ours has.”

Snowflake, a resident of the Wheeler encampment, commented, “Most of that trash isn’t even ours. There are some people out there who bring us their trash thinking we can do something with it. Like what do we need a washer and dryer for?”

Frederick continued, “Basically the RHC [Regional Housing Council of Thurston County] is a management company, much like Catholic Community Services, that is being paid a large amount of money to come in and ‘mitigate’ a group of people that don’t need governance. The project itself got 530,000 dollars.” 

“Which means they are planning on bringing people in to delegate our needs and governing our camps to better fit their agendas. And in the end, we’re not even going to see what we need, because we’re not even being addressed. They’re coming and ‘Big Brother’-ing us to mandate how we’re supposed to live.”

“They’re coming into our camps and setting up a program where we have no rights. They’re giving us ID cards so we have to check in. They’re going to tell us how we have to live, they’re giving us roles and conduct. Basically they’re treating us like we’re all ‘mental’, like we’re running around like chickens without heads. They’re not giving us the opportunity to prove otherwise, because they’re not giving us the opportunity to talk to them.”

“Today we’re making a stand. I’m letting them know there is a face with our community now. And from today forward, we’d like for them to be able to talk to us, we can do a Zoom call, we have the ability to get online if that’s the case. But we need to establish a group from the city talking to us before they come in and make changes, because it is affecting our civil liberties.”

“Anyway folks, I really appreciate your time, I know I have a friend of mine in our community who has a few words he’d like to say.” Frederick smiled and invited his friend to the table. 

The man had been homeless for a while but didn’t share his name. “You made me cry, now I have to say something,” he told Frederick. He proceeded. “I’m homeless because I’m a collateral damage victim. It’s why I’m out here. It’s part of what these other people are scared about.”

“Gated off camps with ID cards… Microchips? Modern Day Concentration Camps? I don’t know. There’s a lot of s— that goes on in this town. Things my uncle doesn’t believe. There are things that happen to this day behind mitigation gates that people don’t know about.”

Frederick nodded and agreed, “I lived there for two years, I know as well.”

The man continued as he cried, “We’re trying to unfuck Olympia, cause we’ve gone and fucked ourselves.”

As Frederick told the story of how he ended up sleeping outside in Olympia, displaced from Southern California, he talked about the connections he made to help him survive. 

“There’s so many stories of people that lost their homes or their kids due to family issues or substance use issues, and they’re stuck outside.”

“And the thing that people don’t know about our homeless community is how we take these people in and solve things within ourselves. This Olympia homeless family has existed for over 30 years, I’d say. This isn’t new. To be honest, we have to look out for each other. We govern ourselves.”

“We have to have groups, because at night, it’s not safe out here. It’s not safe. And I’m sorry, but the drugs and prostitution… that goes on outside of homelessness. People in houses are doing drugs. People in houses are taking escorts. These problems exist outside of this.”

“But we have to self-govern. That’s a thing that not many people know. Cause nobody comes out and says anything. It’s really nobody’s business at the end of the day. That’s like us coming into your life and saying ‘hey I don’t know you, why don’t you start talking about something that makes you scared or upset?’ People aren’t going to be apt to talk about it.”

Both Frederick and Snowflake asked to clarify my press credentials and contact information. They said this was due to an issue they had with local conservative journalists and personalities that would come to the camps, telling them that they were concerned with the larger issue, but ultimately using the opportunity to shoot footage that dehumanizes the homeless Olympians.

After she wrote down my number, Snowflake said, “They make a joke out of us! They put the blame on us like all we want to do is do drugs and do nothing with our lives. No, no, no!”

“There are homeless people down here who are going to school, that are getting up every day to try and go find jobs, and they’re going to interviews. But because we don’t have showers, or smell the best, we’re not ‘proper’ and they’re not hiring us. And it’s hard to get up in the morning if you don’t have an alarm clock or running electricity out here.”

“They’ve put us into this category, they’ve generalized us as something foul and messed up. Like a waste of time, basically. A waste of time, effort, energy, resources.”

“Not everybody thinks that ‘cause there are a lot of amazing people who come out, and they care so much. They take it upon themselves to bring us food, flashlights. They actually care.” 

“Those aren’t the people I’m talking about. Those are important parts of our community, those people have their heads on right, they know what’s up. They take care of their own.”

“To all of the people in our community, yes our community, this concerns you. I’m just a stand-in, reading the words of someone else in our community.” Snowflake then referenced her paper. “I’ll be reading the words of Mama Jade,” she said. 

Mama Jade is a local Olympia figure and “camp mom” to many homeless people and youths on the street. I have yet to meet her, but she seems to be important to many people’s survival, a source of guidance and mothership for those at the Wheeler Encampment.

“Hello, my name is Jade, I have been homeless for the last eight years. Eight long years. I am not okay with it, however, it’s a fact. When I became homeless I was in shock, mortified, and embarrassed. I was so scared for my future.” 

“If it weren’t for my boyfriend Brad, I would be all alone, and most of our homeless community is. As I became homeless, I was introduced to many others, and I thought to myself, the homeless community is not just dirtbags, thieves, drug addicts, etc.” 

“They are a family, a village, that takes care of each other. My entire life I have been looking for something to be part of. Out of foster care, I bounced from one family to the next. I was never far from the next place I would call my temporary home.” 

“But here in Olympia, Washington, people, young and old, have nothing but love for me here. Since my name is Mama Jade. Here I am a part of someone’s life, a part of something. People who love me care about me, and when needed, they take time to make sure I’m okay.”

“What I’m saying is, help us help you. We do not come into your home and tell you how to raise your children. Please, with all due respect, do not come into our homes and raise our village.”

“We are not asking for a hand out, we are asking for a hand up. This means give us the necessary tools and resources to take care of and raise our villages in a dignified manner, with our heads held up high and work towards our communities welfare as well.” 

“We are independent. We don’t need to be governed. We need to be accepted as equals, since this is all of our community. We all have value and worth, we all have valued opinions. This isn’t prison. We have no warden other than ourselves.” 

“We should be free to choose. We will choose.” Snowflake looked up at the camera, with a look of resilience, and the shine of defiance.

Frederick thanked her and moved his phone away from her. He introduced the final speaker. This person was a close friend of the homeless residents, and though formerly homeless, he now resides in a home where he tends to his mother. 

He gave a speech about his relationship with his friends at the camp. He also spoke about the dehumanization of the homeless residents by media sources, and the nuances to what is a very complex issue. The speech was short, but emotional.

Frederick then gave his friend a pat on the back, as he moved the livestreaming phone to capture his face. “It’s not just about the homeless people. It’s about all of us working and coming together. It’s a positive thing. So thank you to those of you who listened today and thank you to everyone who spoke. Hopefully from here on out we can set something up that is going to be a benefit to all of us, and that takes talking to us.” 

Snowflake waved behind his shoulder. “Thank you all for tuning in,” she said. “This is very important.”

Frederick nodded, “it really is,” he said, as he and Snowflake closed out their livestream.