According to a 2023 CRD point-in-time report, there are at least 1,665 people experiencing homelessness in the Capital Regional District. Of these, 282 are living in emergency shelters, and 242 are completely unsheltered. The rest live with a friend, in provisional housing, or elsewhere (unknown). The overwhelming cause of this homelessness is the housing crisis: when asked to enumerate their barriers to housing, over half of respondents reported high rents (56%) and low income (53%), while nearly half cited the “lack of available [housing] options” (49%). By contrast, just 25% of people gave the next most common response, addiction, as their barrier to housing. Only 1.2% of respondents experienced no barriers to housing. Therefore, the majority of respondents are experiencing homelessness as a direct result of the housing crisis: lack of available housing causes rents to spike, which forces 1,665 low-income Victorians to live, among other places, on the streets. Moreover, the crisis is escalating. In 2016, when the CRD conducted its first point-in-time count, only 192 people were completely unhoused, meaning the number of people living on the streets has increased by over 25% in eight years (242 people in 2023). In part, this increase is due to the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic, which “intensified existing inequities such as lack of affordable housing, unemployment, longstanding poverty and wealth inequality” (Olson and Pauly 2021). According to two CRD point-in-time counts from March 2020 and 2023, the number of people experiencing homelessness increased by 142 over the course of the pandemic. The inhospitable housing situation in Victoria and the city’s inability to house or otherwise shelter these residents led to an intensification of pre-existing homeless-related complications.
The expansion of tent cities, or encampments, throughout the Capital Regional District is the most noticeable and controversial effect of the homelessness crisis. However, the City of Victoria’s attempts to forcibly displace these individuals have proven equally controversial. Increased strain during the pandemic caused individuals experiencing homelessness to group together, forming their own communities and support systems (Casey 2021). In the absence of affordable housing, encampments provide a sense of togetherness, “security, and consistency— qualities unhoused people often say are lacking in emergency shelters” (The Canadian Press 2024). Most people living in encampments consider them “home” and fear forced displacement by authorities, not wanting to lose the social support systems on which they depend (Casey 2021).
The City of Victoria has adopted two broad approaches to helping these people experiencing homelessness. On the one hand, the government’s own practices involve largely “involuntary care” that prioritizes “moving the remaining people who are living outside, inside” (Dickson 2021). Conversely, the City of Victoria outsources mental health support, food services, and emergency shelters to various local non-profits.
The government’s approach of largely “involuntary care” was limited to the purchase of three hotels in the downtown center, into which they moved hundreds of people from Beacon Hill Park, Pandora Street and Topaz Park encampments. Initially, individuals on Pandora were given the deadline of 9 May 2020 to move into a former Comfort Inn, but many believed they were “safer out here” than in the hotels (Crighton 2020). In fact, a group of 12 blockaded the street in a refusal to be displaced; many remained in their encampment communities past the 9 May 2020 deadline, forcing the city to extend the deadline to 20 May 2020. On that day, the Minister of Social Development and Poverty Reduction claimed that 308 people had been moved into hotels. Those wishing to remain in their encampment homes consider “what [the city is] doing to evict or force to move or move without consulting” to be a “massive human rights violation” (Crighton 2020).
For Indigenous people living in encampment communities, forced displacement adopts a more sinister character; in a letter to the Mayor of Toronto, Anishinaabe Health Director Joe Hester explains, “Forced evictions for the Indigenous homeless can be stark intergenerational memories [sic.] of residential schools, the 60s Scoop and other colonial practices” (Hester 2021). Shae Smith, who lived in the Beacon Hill Park encampment and hosts the podcast The Homeless Solution, likens the City’s policies to the Blitz air raids: “I feel like tomorrow, my home could be destroyed by whatever means” (Crighton 2020). Furthermore, the Minister of Housing and Diversity’s Federal Housing Advocate Marie-Josée Houle also considers forced evictions and the dismantling of encampments to be “human rights violations” (The Canadian Press 2024). Destination shelters and hotels are “overflowing with people, bed bugs and head lice” (Van Der Zwan 2019), and trauma therapy is not covered by the B.C. Medical Services Plan or Fair Pharmacare (Page 2024). Most importantly, forced displacement by authorities exacerbates trauma, which erodes trust in the government and pushes people “away from the very services [the government] is trying to connect them to” (Jenkinson and Hwang 2021). As a result, as recently as March 2024, BC Chamber of Commerce CEO Bruce Williams expressed, “We have to take a look at the idea of involuntary care for some of these people who are no longer in a position to be able to care for themselves or make the right decision,” adding that it would make the streets safer for everyone, including those displaced (Page 2024). Attitudes such as this illuminate why “a lot of people experiencing homelessness have very bad trauma related to social services, related to institutions, related to people in uniform” (The Canadian Press, 2024). Therefore, people experiencing homelessness have bad experiences in the shelter system, resent the government for forcibly violating their human right to housing and dismantling their support systems, and recoil from outreach due to distrust and past traumas.
The outreach services from which some recoil represent the City’s second approach to aiding the homelessness crisis: funding local non-profit relief and support organizations. However, since many experiencing homelessness associate government-funded agencies with the Government’s unpopular forced evictions—being displaced, disregarded, and discriminated against (Perri et al., 2020)— a relationship of strained trust must serve as the basis for recovery. Nevertheless, local non-profits run the shelter hotels and administer meals, health care, addiction treatment, dental care, counselling, sheltering, and more.
The city’s foremost ally in Alliance to End Homelessness is the OurPlace Society. They are the recipients of two hotels purchased by B.C. Housing in 2020: Muncey Place (3020 Blanshard St) and Capital City Centre (1961 Douglas St). According to OurPlace’s 2022-2023 Community Report, they offer a combined 500 permanent and transitional housing units. OurPlace’s strategy for ending homelessness involves what employees call the “flow model,” wherein admittees gradually advance through different levels of supported sheltering as they “stabilize.” OurPlace designates the first and most accessible level of care “emergency shelters.” OurPlace runs two such shelters: a 17-bunkbed, 34-adult emergency shelter in the basement of OurPlace’s headquarters at 919 Pandora, and an “overnight shelter site with mats on the floor” of First Metropolitan United Church. The latter is not advertised on OurPlace’s website, but is listed on the Alliance to End Homelessness’ list of Emergency Shelters.
OurPlace’s “next step” on the “journey toward independent living” is transitional sheltering at MyPlace on 1240 Yates St. Transitional sheltering is designed to provide the “security and stability” necessary to re-acclimate inductees to indoor living (OurPlace Community Report). As such, the “semi-private” accommodations, described as “pods,” amount to 54 cubicles (each with a bed and a locker) arranged in a gymnasium. Additionally, these transitional shelters offer community TV lounges, computer rooms, shared libraries, washer/dryer facilities, and two meals a day (Tour of MyPlace). Transitional shelters are designed to “stabilize” residents before they re-enter the supportive housing system. However, transitional sheltering’s biggest hurdle is its own limited availability. According to MyPlace employee Sarah, “most people spend about a year here, and that is usually based on vacancies [in permanent housing]; most people are ready a lot sooner than that.” When asked what her biggest challenge was, she echoed,
Definitely having people who have completed the program here. They’ve put in the work, and they’ve got connected, and they’ve really stabilized. They’re really ready to move on and finding them somewhere to go when there’s very little right now in the supportive housing world is a challenge. It’s a big challenge. Most of my people here are ready, they’re just waiting.
Understandably, her favorite part of the job is “being able to tell somebody that they’ve got a permanent home.”
The permanent home to which Sarah is referring represents the next stop along OurPlace’s pipeline to independent living: transitional housing. Contrary to transitional sheltering, transitional housing involves private rooms and additional accommodations like wardrobes, chests of drawers, kitchenettes, private bathrooms, and more. In this case, “transitional” refers to the eventual transition into permanent housing, though this is governed by the residents’ own abilities and priorities (unlike the transition out of transitional sheltering, which is governed by a waitlist). Therefore, contrary to transitional sheltering, transitional housing is permanent housing insofar as the resident wishes to stay, hence the yearlong waitlist. OurPlace explains that transitional housing is designed to help people experiencing homelessness “further stabilize, rejoin workforce, and reconnect with family.” Rejoining the workforce is possible at this stage because transitional housing enables all-important mailing addresses for its residents.
OurPlace operates three such transitional housing communities: the former Comfort Inn hotel (now Muncey Place), the former Capital City Centre hotel, and a shipping-container community called Caledonia Place. OurPlace support staff work 24/7 at each of these locations to meet their resident’s varying needs, deliver 2-3 meals per day, perform wellness checks, and generally oversee the administration involved in caring for 241 people across three facilities. Furthermore, OurPlace works in partnership with other local relief organizations who provide medical services, counselling resources, addiction treatment, and workforce guidance from within the building. For example, The Umbrella Society provides on-site mental health and substance use support 5 days per week, PEERS provides on-site harm reduction, and The Cool Aid Society runs on-site medical clinics 4 days per week and distributes numerous medical, hygienic, and contraceptive products (tour of Capital City Center; tour of Muncey Place).
The City of Victoria allotted the third hotel purchased by B.C. housing to the PHS Community Services Society, which now runs it. Formerly Paul’s Motor Inn, the building at 1900 Douglas St, now known as Le Soleil, houses 75 residents in a “supportive housing location that provides round-the-clock mental health support, home support, life skills and twice-daily meals” (PHS: Le Soleil).
Together, the OurPlace, Umbrella, Cool Aid, PHS Community Services, PEER, and other societies work together to rehabilitate, stabilize, and support people experiencing homelessness along their journey to permanent housing, which eventually takes the form of “either supported… subsidized or market rent.” Likely understanding their own shortcomings of government bureaucracy, the City of Victoria opted to sanction and supply these agencies with funding and property instead of assuming the gargantuan task themselves. The government is choosing to put most of the power in the hands of benevolent and trustworthy non-profits. On its “homeless initiatives” webpage, the City of Victoria reports its actions to be
…work with BC Housing, Island Health, and the community agencies that serve people who are experiencing homelessness to ensure that access to housing, healthcare, and cultural/peer supports are available to help people sheltering outdoors to move inside
In fact, the only other mention of homelessness (on the homelessness initiatives webpage) is that:
… the City of Victoria is a member of the Alliance to End Homelessness in the Capital Region. The Alliance works to address the region’s commitment to end homelessness. It includes the following partners:
- local service providers
- non-profit organizations
- businesses
- all levels of government
The City also provides support to organizations that work with individuals experiencing homelessness.
The rest of the information on the “homelessness initiatives” webpage involves legislation changes to rental bylaws, new tenant protections, and policies that encourage the construction of affordable rental developments. However, while these policy changes do address the roots of the housing crisis, none of the government’s own policies are designed to address the homelessness crisis directly; instead, the city empowers non-profits to do so.