Serious Sunday: Where do you go to my lovely?

As part of its Corona Virus coverage The Guardian newspaper has posted a series of short films on its website one of which is about an hotel in Shrewsbury that has opened its doors to some of the city’s homeless for the duration of Lockdown. It is, for the most part, an uplifting story. The guests talk about recovering their dignity, feeling safe and being in the rare position of being able to plan for the future. Both staff and guests describe the shared sense of family. The local residents and businesses have shown their support by donating food and clothes with the exception of a few whose behaviour and attitudes towards the hotel’s new guests are described by the manager as “discrimination”.

The first homeless person I ever knew was a schoolfriend. Not homeless in the sense that she was wandering the streets with her possessions in a backpack but homeless in the sense that she hadn’t the security of having one place she could call home.. She could not get on with her mum’s partner. He gave an ultimatum “It’s me or her!” and, well, it wasn’t my school friend. She moved in with her gran which was OK. Except at weekends Gran’s boyfriend would stay over and they wanted the house to themselves. So where did my friend go at weekends? To other friend’s houses where she slept on the sofa. One friend’s parents let her sleep in their shed if the weather would allow.


Twenty years forward in time and one of my students was living with her aunt having been removed from the care of her mum who refused to ditch her violent partner. My student regularly absconded from her aunt’s to be brought back by the police after a couple of night’s rough sleeping. Her aunt tired of this and said she could not cope with the responsibility of caring for her niece any longer. So where did my student go? To council-approved bed and breakfast accommodation. A temporary solution until more suitable accommodation for a 16 year old girl could be found but she was still there six months later.

About a year ago two guys were rough-sleeping in the multi-story car park I use for work. It was relentlessly cold and draughty but, I guess, safer and more private than a shop doorway or subway. One of them told me his girlfriend had thrown him out and until his benefits claim went through he had no choice but to sleep rough. I promised them a couple of sleeping bags but the next day they were gone; moved on following complaints from other car park users. Where did they go ? Maybe somewhere that wasn’t as safe as the car park.

Last night as we left the supermarket a young man with a dog stopped us. His first words to us; “Please don’t judge me on what you see now. I’m not really like this”. He told us he was trying to get together enough money for accommodation for the next two nights . For £15 a night he would get bed and breakfast at this one particular place he described and they accepted dogs. When we drove past him he was smoking a cig and chatting to one of the guys from the supermarket. They looked about the same age. Maybe they went to school together. Where did he go that lovely young man? Did he use the money he was given for his two-nights’ accomodation? If he did where will he go on Monday night?

One of the things that came out strongly in the story of the homeless at the hotel was a sense of optimism about the future. Two of the guys were planning to apply for jobs at the hotel and there was an overwhelming sense that, for the hotel staff and their guests, whatever happens, they will always look on each other as family.

There is much debate now about our lives post- lockdown, how things will never be quite the same and that we will have to adjust to “ a new normal”. The guests at the hotel are already living “a new normal” having put down shallow roots there and invested in their temporary home by carrying out odd jobs and helping with chores. Will their inevitable departure merely signal a return to their “old normal” and where will they go?



Check out the Shrewsbury hotel story here.

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