[Cross-posted to Wichita Story]
Before Christmas, I
had some complimentary things to say about Wichita’s city council. Here at
the end of the year, though, my thoughts are more critical—though this is
really a story about an organization of citizens here in Wichita, one that has
pushed and challenged the city council, with some (but not total) success.
Justice Together, an association of
nearly 1500 volunteers from nearly 40 Wichita-area congregations, synagogues,
and other religious bodies, made local history several months ago, when, at
a major public assembly, they pressed and received commitments from various
elected leaders that certain positive steps would be taken to assist the
homeless population of Wichita. Their well-researched calls for 1) more free
bus passes for those with mental health needs, for 2) more staffing for on-call
psychiatric assistance, for 3) a sustainable budget plan for completing and
operating the planned Multi-Agency Center (MAC) which aims to bring together
resources for homeless individuals, and for 4) a free municipal ID program, all
remain on the table. But two weeks ago a proposed set of changes to how the
city deals with homelessness threatened to derail the compassionate efforts
that Justice Together, along with many other municipal organizations (Wichita’s
Coalition
to End Homelessness deserves much credit here), had pushed for.
Fortunately, Wichita’s city
council was convinced (or pressured) to bypass the worst feature of these
proposed changes, and the role JT played in that effort (in over two hours of public
comment before the city council on December 17, 21 of the 24 speakers
opposed the proposed changes, and more than a third of those were associated
with Justice Together) deserves praise. Still, the fact that the
other changes which passed through the council on a 4 to 3 vote will increase
the ability of law enforcement to treat homeless individuals from a criminal
rather than a compassionate perspective is evidence of how much more, and perhaps
how much further, the kind of activism JT represents has to go.
As was pointed out by multiple speakers (as well
as a couple of members of the council from the bench), the proposed changes in
Wichita’s policies were less rooted in local changes (though Wichita’s homeless
population has increased, as it has in cities both large and small across the
country, for dozens of often intertwined reasons) than they were in national
decisions. When the U.S. Supreme Court handed down its majority decision in City of
Grants Pass v. Johnson last summer, making it clear that criminalizing
“public camping”—a euphemism that we all know is ridiculous (“camping” is a voluntary
recreational activity, while sleeping or residing outside without shelter in
public places is practically never either of those) but seem doomed to use
anyway—would not be considered an unconstitutional punishment someone for their
condition, but would instead be considered a nominally constitutional
punishment of an action, the
door to more aggressive enforcement of anti-homelessness policies was kicked
wide open. Honestly, those of us Wichitans who recognize both the increased
costs as well as the lack of compassion which the further criminalizing
homelessness entails should probably be grateful that the city’s proposals
didn’t go any further than they did.
As someone who has been
associated with Justice Together since its beginning in early 2023, I
received word of the prayer meeting being planned for the day of the city
council meeting. Multiple faith leaders set the tone for the dozens who
gathered for the meeting by emphasizing that pushing back, in whatever peaceful
way we can, against adding burdens to the lives of those suffering from
whatever mix of causes—poverty, trauma, mental illness, drug or alcohol
addiction, or all of the above—which had left them living without permanent
shelter was a shared religious demand. As
I’ve written before, JT is not a radical organization; rather, it is a
serious, careful, realistic group of believers, who work in the tradition of
Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., in 1) researching and proposing responsible plans
premised upon compassion and justice, and then 2) presenting their plans before
elected leaders in ways that create tension, thereby hopefully forcing action
and progress. That was the plan a few weeks ago, with a
summary of the changes Wichita’s government was proposing and an action
plan laying out a bullet-pointed list of Justice Together’s primary
concerns handed out beforehand. (The individuals in the photo above, from the Justice Together prayer meeting before the city council chambers on the morning of December 17, are, from left to right: Pastor Chad Langdon of Christ Lutheran Church; Deacon Lory Mills of St. Bartholomew’s and St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church; Justice Together Co-President Rabbi Andrew Pepperstone of Ahavath Achim Congregation; and Rev. Dr. Karen Robu of Plymouth Congregational Church.)
Topping the list of those
concerns was that the city, in the wake of Grants Pass, intended to “remove
a requirement that a shelter bed be available for anyone displaced by an
encampment removal”—in other words, to no longer oblige law enforcement to
confirm that there are beds available at public shelters before enforcing
anti-“camping” rules and forcing a homeless person to move from whatever
location of rest they’d found for themselves. This central issue was
highlighted by Rabbi Andrew Pepperstone, the co-president of Justice Together,
when he stood to speak before the city council (two other speakers, Revs.
Travis Smith McKee of the Disciples of Christ and Jacob L. Poindexter of the
United Church of Christ, later underscored Rabbi Pepperstone’s demand): the
“removal of bed space verification” from those tasked with the often ugly task
of disrupting the attempt of the homeless to find a secure corner or underpass
somewhere in public space has, in his words, “no compassionate rationale that I
can conceive of.” He challenged the city council to strip that policy change
from the proposal, which resulted in some city leaders playing hot potato,
suggesting that this odious proposal was really just a matter of police protocol.
But thankfully, whomever ultimately owns this obligation, the result was a
positive one. The policy changes voted on ended up preserving this restriction,
thus making it at least still slightly difficult for those experiencing
homelessness to be forced to move and to abandon many of their possessions like
herd animals and not human beings.
Justice Together also opposed,
along with other groups, expanding the number of city workers who could wield
that kind of police power against the homeless, another proposed change which
the city council was convinced to drop. Unfortunately, though, the other
priority of JT—opposing “a change to shorten the notice to vacate period before
an encampment is removed, from 72 hours to 48 hours, and in some cases, allow
removal without notice”—went through. Perhaps that’s unsurprising; the city
staff made it clear in their presentation to the council that there was,
functionally speaking, only two elements of the proposed changes which they
considered truly substantive: getting rid of the bed requirement, and allowing
for the more immediate removal of homeless persons and the clean-up of their
sleeping locations. Despite complaints that went far beyond the religiously
motivated—there were speakers who challenged the proposed ordinances from
libertarian perspectives on human rights, and conservative speakers who pointed
out all the additional costs which ramping up enforcement requires—Wichita
will, beginning probably in mid-January, join the
host of American cities that are responding to the increase of the homeless
population with even more criminalization, even if conjoining that with some
additional compassion.
That additional compassion is
obviously vital. Justice Together’s slogan for their (in retrospect, only
partly successful) action was “Invest in a Fully Funded MAC, not
Criminalization of Homelessness,” and there was much discussion of how to move
forward with finding the funds necessary to keeping the plans for the MAC on
track, and many supportive words from city council members for doing so. (There
was an update on plans for the free municipal ID as well, which still seems to
me likely the most important single non-structural action Wichita could take to
assist the city’s homeless.) Ultimately, though, those who have dedicated so
much time and effort to Justice Together must now consider their next steps.
Do they accept this defeat and
continue to focus on pushing our elected leaders on the social justice issues which
they have not foreclosed? That seems most likely; what JT’s volunteers are best
at is speaking practically about policy options and researching how other
cities have funded programs or dealt with changes in the legal landscape is the
kind of action that appeals to their skill set best. But there is also the
possibility of reconsidering what kind of, and how much, tension they can
productively generate—perhaps while looking towards this year’s municipal elections,
with the aim of changing one of those 4 yes votes. Becoming an interest group
which actively promotes or opposes candidates would give Justice Together a
very different and much more contentious vibe, yet political challenges are
part of the toolkit of any successful advocacy organization, whether they’re
used or not. (Sometimes, simply the knowledge that an organization could
organize their forces—in this case, many hundreds of mostly middle or
upper-middle class Wichitans in dozens of well-established religious
congregations, the great majority of which are likely voters—can be persuasive
enough.)
Justice Together has worked with and through the
religious faith of thousands of Wichitans over the past 2 years to advance the
conversation about social justice in our city. As a supporter, I am curious to
see how its leadership will continue to try to advance our shared ideals, even
as the opposition to some of what has been labored over pushes back. As in so
many other ways, 2025 will be a very telling year.