Unhoused perspective: New law has potential

If anyone understands the struggles of sleeping in a bed that's not her own, it's 47-year-old Anna Chavez.

She knows the shame and anxiety of sleeping on a park bench at night. Just like she's endured the guilt of crashing at someone else's pad that led her to the park bench in the first place.

"You get that look, like they're tired of seeing you," said Chavez, who said her drug addiction led her to spend nights in jail, too.

But now, after coming to Clovis' Lighthouse Mission – it's offered shelter, meals, clothing and support for whomever needs it for the last 36 years – Chavez has found God, clarity, a bed and hope for a better future.

That's why she maintains mostly positive feelings about Clovis' recently passed anti-camping ordinance that prohibits people from sleeping on park benches or private property.

But while she appreciates the city's ambitions to use the ordinance to help the less fortunate find shelter, she disagrees with the ordinance's potential to fine and ultimately jail those who are cited.

How the ordinance works

Clovis Police Deputy Chief Trevor Thron said CPD isn't actively patrolling to serve citations. Rather, it's on a complaint basis, or if CPD officers doing their rounds at night see someone sleeping in a prohibited area.

According to section one of the ordinance, prohibited areas include "public parks, streets, sidewalks, lots, buildings and alleys."

Furthermore, citations are broken down into a first, second and third offense.

According to section 12.22.040 of the ordinance, the first offense will result in a "written warning notice." The second offense will result in "a fine of not more than one hundred dollars, or by community service not to exceed ten hours, or by both." The third offense will force one to "pay a fine of not more than three hundred dollars, or by community service not to exceed ten hours, or by both."

According to Thron, officers have discretion in whether to issue citations. Each case will then be decided in court.

Clovis Mayor Mike Morris said, "I have a feeling you're going to have a merciful judge on second and third offenses. I don't even know if we're going to have second and third offenses."

Thron said, "I don't see us actually taking somebody to jail."

Thron said officers will try to connect anyone violating the ordinance with a shelter like Lighthouse Mission, Nurstead Consulting Services or another agency that offers resources. Those resources may include a bed, clothes, food, a shower and therapy.

The goal of the ordinance

Richard Gomez, co-founder and executive director of Clovis' Lighthouse Mission, said there's been a surge in drug use and mental health struggles over the last few years. This, in turn, has led to a surge in homelessness.

Local non-profit agencies have estimated there are 100 to 200 residents in Clovis that are unhoused.

"The spirit of all of this is – and I think everyone would agree – we don't want folks living, camping or sleeping in public places," Mayor Morris said.

"We know that's not safe for them, nor is it good for the integrity of our community and the public places that are available for all to employ, and so we want folks to get connected to services."

If Morris' words align with actions, Chavez is for it.

She's witnessed how asking for help and getting resources has turned her life around.

A former addict who's lost connection with her kids and spent time in jail, Lighthouse Mission has given her hope, she said.

By developing a strong relationship with God, she's found the self-belief that she doesn't need drugs. Over time, she's found the resources – and stability and routine – that has her on a path to becoming a productive member of society.

Once a knee injury heals up, she said she plans on getting a full-time job and having an involved role in her children's lives.

"It'll help you to where you start feeling better about yourself," Chavez said, "because when I came here I didn't think I wanted to go on anymore."

Leary about fines and jail time

Though Chavez is bullish, she has her reservations.

For example, she and other Lighthouse Mission beneficiaries consider the fine portion of the ordinance unfair.

"That's crazy," Chavez quipped when a reporter informed her.

Eva Nyamwaya, a recovering alcoholic from Kenya staying at Lighthouse Mission, chimed in.

"Where am I gonna get $300?" Nyamwaya said.

"I can't even pay my bills," Chavez said.

While the ordinance doesn't list anything about jail, Thron said that "if they don't show up for court by their court date or whatever, then, yeah, there's going to be a warrant that's going to get issued for a failure to appear, and they're going to get arrested. But that is what we're trying to avoid."

Still, the prospect of jail does worry Nyamwaya and Chavez.

From Nyamwaya's perspective, sending one to jail could increase – not diminish – negative behavior.

"I wasn't born a criminal. I've learned most of my criminal activity by being taught. So when you send me there, of course, you're putting me out of the society, but you're taking me to get more trained on how to come back and do (crime) bigger and better," she said.

Other anti-camping ordinance critics said anything resulting in jail time will become public record, making it harder for them to find employment or housing. That increases the stressors that either led to addiction or mental health struggles in the first place.

Difficulties of the plan

While intentions are positive, there's the unfortunate reality of those who can't stay off the streets – even if help is offered. For some, it's rooted in distrust.

While unhoused in Texas, Nyamwaya said a religious-based service, designed to help those in need, offered to take her in. What she thought was a ticket to sobriety and a path to God, wound up as a "cult."

She said days consisted of breakfast, raising money for hours on end and church services.

"Back by 2 a.m., 3 a.m., sleep for two hours. Repeat," she said.

Nyamwaya also touched on how some people – typically addicts or those with severe mental health struggles – aren't capable of following the rules required to stay in a shelter.

Then there's the reality of those who refuse help and have no motivation to change. Chavez understands this through her son.

"He's just one of them types that says he doesn't need help when everybody's telling him, 'Yes, you do,'" she said.

While growing up, her son was a diehard Emmitt Smith football fan and math whiz. "You give him an equation, and he would figure it out," she said.

Over time, however, he fell into the wrong crowd, developed a drug problem, became unhoused and is currently in jail, she said.

Upon getting out, Chavez said she thinks he's somebody who can be impacted by the anti-camping ordinance.

Sure, it could be in a negative way.

Or in a positive way if he accepts help and makes changes, she said.

Asked what she'd tell her son, Chavez replied, "Look at me. Look how happy I am. And I know that you can be happy."