Aparna Ananthasubramaniam knows the exact moment her life at Stanford began to change dramatically. On long walk after long walk throughout Palo Alto as a freshman, she had said "Hi" to every person she passed. No one ever said it back. Until one night in front of the CVS pharmacy on University Avenue, when a homeless man returned the greeting, leading to a full conversation. That was five years ago. "Much of what he said," she notes, "has stayed with me to this day."
In between, Ananthasubramaniam, '13, joined other students, local religious leaders, grassroots volunteers and members of the homeless population to try to ease the dangers faced by people living on the streets. In the winter of 2014, an organization she helped form was able to team up with two churches to provide 10 weeks of overnight shelter to homeless women. It was a city-approved effort with an innovative design and a long-term vision. Yet the upshot has been bittersweet: The shelters are on hiatus this year, in part because of pushback from residents near the churches.
"I've got an empty building, and I've got women sleeping in the rain," says Andy Burnham, the recovery pastor at Peninsula Bible Church in Palo Alto. "I want to help. I also want to be sensitive to the neighbors, but I am frustrated. People die in the street every year from being homeless."
Nobody describes the residents' protests as more than a smattering. Still, there was a sharp edge. Burnham says one homeowner told him that Palo Alto already provided enough outreach services and should avoid doing anything that might attract additional homeless people to the area.
Individuals emphasize that Palo Alto is their home even though they're without shelter.
Some of the homeless think it's extraordinary that a group of students ever managed to make the kind of headway that could ruffle feathers. Chuck Jagoda, a board member of the student-initiated Heart and Home Collaborative, lived for periods in his car until recently and says the prevailing public mood is to limit homeless shelters, not increase them. Not only are the Stanford students bucking the trend, Jagoda says, but "the fact that they have time for anything of this magnitude or level of demand is amazing."
For Ananthasubramaniam, that first connection with a homeless person led to more purposeful walks, many new conversations and a determination to personally help, possibly by starting a shelter. She sought advice from people at Stanford with expertise in civic challenges; she was told about a student group called Night Outreach, which was already exploring the idea of opening a shelter. That's how she met Marie Baylon.
Night Outreach conducts walks dedicated to making contact with the homeless. Providing food or other aid may be involved, as well. But the starting point is the establishment of a connection, a conversation, based on compassion. And that's what hooked Baylon, '11, who became co-president as a sophomore and took over leading the walks through Palo Alto. "I think I just really loved how it was focused on listening to people," says Baylon, now studying for a master's in social work at the University of Chicago.
Ananthasubramaniam's and Baylon's efforts kept expanding in response to the labyrinth of homeless issues they encountered. Perhaps most prominently, they helped organize opposition to the idea of a Palo Alto ordinance against people living in their vehicles. That led to deeper alliances with a cross-section of community members, some of whom now anchor the Heart and Home board. They include Jagoda and Greg Schaefer, pastor of the University Lutheran Church in the College Terrace neighborhood.
Numerous Stanford students have contributed strenuously to an array of initiatives on behalf of the homeless over the past five years. In part, that's an outgrowth of almost constant organizing discussions about increasing the support that exists on and off campus. But at the same time, it's clear that Ananthasubramaniam and Baylon were uniquely inspirational in generating momentum.
Consider the impact on Kurt von Laven, '12, who got involved because he feels it is important to say yes when "one of your heroes"—in this case, Baylon—asks for help. Why a hero? Partly, he notes, because she's the kind of person who's undeterred "when everybody tells you you're crazy"—a predictable reaction to ambitious ideas like the creation of shelters by students.
Amid everything else the Stanford undergrads were juggling—including partnership proposals with the Innvision Shelter Network, the outreach walks and, oh yes, their coursework—research and planning for opening student-run shelters continued to advance. Heart and Home was incorporated in January 2013; one year after that, with everything in place from insurance to temporary use permits from the city, the shelters launched, first at Peninsula Bible on Middlefield Road and then at University Lutheran.
Volunteers who were immersed in the day-to-day work describe an enormous sense of accomplishment about the effectiveness of the shelters. Mary Wisnewski is a member of the University Lutheran congregation and the Heart and Home support committee. She says about four dozen people who regularly attend church services also took part in the myriad tasks—cooking food, setting up the sleeping space, cleaning, even making blankets—that underpinned the 7 p.m.-to-7 a.m. accommodations for a dozen women or more each night.
Marly Carlisle, '17, says she especially liked the sociability of eating and talking at length with the women staying at University Lutheran. A sense of respect for the women was apparent, she says, from all the volunteers. That followed from Heart and Home's core principles of listening and reacting to the "unhoused," a term they adopted on hearing individuals emphasize that Palo Alto is their home even though they're without shelter. And restricting the shelters to women was a decision based on comments from them about feeling uncomfortable in coed facilities.
Although neighborhood objections influenced the decision to suspend the shelters for a year, efforts are under way to reopen in 2016, possibly for longer times. Periods over 45 days require much more expensive permits, but Amy French, Palo Alto's chief planning official, says the city is willing to consolidate a permit for multiple locations. Volunteers—and more are needed—also credit French with suggestions for improving communication with church neighbors, one of the priorities for this year as well as keeping in touch with the women.
"Everyone involved—students, neighbors, unhoused community members, churches, clients—was drawn to Heart and Home for a different reason, be that a friend, an experience or a life circumstance," says board member Trey Deitch, '15, MS '15. "They brought their ideas, their stories, the way they think. Building this shelter together created a unique environment for them to connect at a human level."
"I think we are all moving forward feeling inspired by each other," says Ananthasubramaniam.
Mike Antonucci is a senior writer at Stanford.
