The Path To Happiness-Revised

“The rents are ridiculous,” says Maureen Petersen, an officer of the Department of Homeless Services. “The high cost of rent is what a lot of people come here for.”

PATH—or the Prevention Assistance and Temporary Housing—is a temporary placement connected to the EAU: an Emergency Assessment Unit, under the DHS, or Department of Homeless Services. Here DHS Officers and Employees take care of a difficult task: trying to help homeless families get homes. But it’s not easy.

With a rising cost of living—an effect of the nation-wide economic problems, many find that they don’t have enough money to keep up with rent, especially in New York. A New York University Study in 2006 even concluded that households making about $32,000, 80% of the median citywide income, would not be able to afford many of the apartments in the city. Specifically the report stated that in a span of three years there had been a drop of 205,000 apartments that would have been affordable to the median, and majority, salary of New Yorkers. Also, the median price of unsubsidized apartments made a 20% increase in this time—from $750 to $900. And it has increased since then.

“What makes it bad is that Guiliani had changed it all,” continues Petersen, referring to the state of her department. Petersen, who’s worked for the DHS for more than a decade, has seen plenty changes. “All boroughs had EAUs, but he converged them all into one, this one, and made it more hectic. That’s why a lot of kids are displaced out of school. If they had an EAU in each borough, it’d be better.”

“It’s the worst on kids,” another officer adds, who asked to keep their name anonymous. Standing next to a family of four, including a mother and her kids, the officer looks on and frowns. “The process of [the kids] going back and forth, the kids being shuffled around; they might be in the Bronx, they might be in Brooklyn, y’know? It’s hard,” the officer adds.

“It’s disgusting,” says one client, a mother standing outside. She paces back and forth, shifting side to side in frustration besides her friend. “I was just arguing with him on how f***ed up it is,” she adds. “If we didn’t have no place to go, I wouldn’t be here.” And it’s no doubt that the children hurt the most. While standing there, countless children stand by their parents and older siblings as late as eleven o’clock, and beyond. “They’re missing out on school cuz they have to be here,” says one client, “that’s an ACS case but what can you do?”

Walking into the large stone building of the EAU, the first thing a family encounters in the brightly lit building is not warm meals and blankets, but metal detectors, though some would consider it a necessity. “It’d different. Every day it’s different,” says Masullo, a DHS Officer standing ready at the metal detectors. He takes a look at the monitors and shakes his head. “Never know what you’re going to get.”

“We have to check for contraband and weapons,” says his fellow-officer Gonzalez as she also checks the screen of an incoming client’s bag. “All bags must go through—if they beep, they get checked.” And while some may think this is a trivial step, others would disagree.

“When I was at the Men’s Shelter by Bellvue Hospital, a man tried to come in with a machete,” says Petersen, a long time employee of the DHS. “Had it up the sleeve of his jacket.”

After passing the metal detectors, families reach the Processing Stage. Here they must put in their information and the reasons behind their homelessness, leading to a temporary overnight stay while an investigation is made on the client’s claims. After moving to Reception, more information is needed to prepare the family for the Family Worker, who gives the family a medical check. Employees of the Diversion Department try to see whether there are other ways for families to go without staying in the shelter system, but if things are approved the family is given a temporary housing in a ten day placement. If found eligible, the family will be guided to a Tier 2 Housing: an apartment for their family. But, if found ineligible according to varying circumstances, the family may have to start the process all over again.

In addition, guidelines and rules are constantly changing. “A lot of people mess it up for others,” says Petersen of the system at PATH. “One client can do something bad and it changes everything for everybody else.”

One officer had an example. “[A Family] can be at the end of her 10 day placement period, and it can be 11 at night, and [they] can have kids; and they have to get them out, instead of waiting till morning.” The officer shakes their head in disapproval. Unfortunately, this is not a rare story for the families at who arrive at PATH.

Naturally, the process can cause tension between employees and clients. “I don’t like working here,” says another DHS employee who’d rather stay anonymous. “These guys are assholes. They make us feel like it’s us…like it’s our fault. But it comes from up high. They’re the ones maneuvering everybody.”

Occasionally, tempers will escalate to the point of confrontation; other times the DHS officers find themselves dealing with all sorts of situations. “It’s more than just police work,” says Masullo as he keeps his eyes on the clients entering the building. He grins and adds “We’re translators, babysitters, referees…everything.” The other officers smile grimly, nodding in agreement.

Whatever the case may be, one thing is clear: the city’s cost of living is rising, and salaries aren’t following as closely. Worse, families, for various reasons that some are responsible for and others not, are getting caught in a web of problems that can’t be solved until rents are stabilized and made affordable not for the rich—but realistically for the majority of the population—the average New Yorker.