Photograph by Kat Eng
Powderhorn Park
On June 17, the Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board passed a resolution designating Minneapolis parks as sanctuaries for people currently experiencing homelessness, in response to a homeless encampment that sprung in Powderhorn Park.
The Board voted 6-2 to approve the resolution. It recognizes the sanctuaries as an impermanent solution to homelessness, and states the board will work with government and non-profit agencies to provide resources for the encampment and help find long-term housing for the sanctuary residents. The Minnesota Department of Health will also provide public health support.
Constituents submitted over 860 public comments regarding the encampment in the days before the meeting, and Commissioner Londel French applauded residents and organizers for their work, saying they "have done a tremendous job of keeping that place safe."
The resolution comes after a weeks-long activist effort, that's been dubbed the Minneapolis Sanctuary Movement, to provide housing for those experiencing homelessness in Minneapolis. It began with a housing experiment at a Sheraton Hotel in south Minneapolis and has culminated with a 200-tent encampment at Powderhorn Park–in the neighborhood at the epicenter of city and national uprisings for racial justice in response to the police murder of George Floyd.
Photograph by Kat Eng
Sanctuary Hotel
The Sanctuary Hotel
When the city mandated a curfew to gain control of the city on May 29, everyone was told to be inside between 8 p.m. and 6 a.m. The curfew exempted reporters, first responders, people travelling to or from work, and those experiencing homelessness.
However, the nighttime riots combined with erratic curfew enforcement from the police, State Patrol, and the National Guard posed a dangerous situation for those who would be spending the night alone on the street.
With the neighborhood around the Sheraton on Chicago Avenue going up in flames, hotel management made the call to evacuate guests–and wanting to immediately house those who would otherwise spend the night outside, activists struck an opaque deal with hotel owner Jay Patel: allow the homeless to seek refuge in the empty rooms, and in return, volunteers would protect the hotel from smoldering.
The "Sanctuary Hotel" functioned as emergency housing for more than a week. The occupancy quickly grew to over 200 people, with all 136 rooms filled. There was a waiting list of hundreds of people, and some slept on the floor in friends' rooms or in the lobby.
Volunteers, a combination of Minneapolis residents, medics and nurses, social workers, activists, and hotel residents, ran the hotel autonomously. They cleaned rooms, did laundry, sanitized door-knobs and counters, took donation drop-offs, cooked meals, provided basic medical care, patrolled the street outside the hotel at night, and provided security. They also built a website.
Many who sought shelter at the hotel came from an encampment on Hiawatha Avenue, which was cleared on May 28 because of the protests. Governor Walz had initially issued an executive order barring law enforcement from breaking up encampments due to the COVID-19 pandemic, following recommendations from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. He later reversed the order.
In essence, the situation at the hotel exemplified that if the city would not address the housing crisis, activists and people experiencing homelessness would take the first steps toward a solution themselves. Organizers opened the Sanctuary Hotel under the impression that nonprofits, the government, or philanthropists would step in to turn their emergency response into something sustainable for the long-term.
Help never came, and two weeks later, need began to overwhelm the hotel. Organizers readily admitted that the network of volunteers was not a replacement for trained social service workers. "We were able to house people through a crisis. We opened a door and demonstrated some possibilities. This is the time for the city, for the state, for the county, for the nonprofits, for the philanthropists to step in," organizer Rosemary Fister told Democracy Now! on June 9.
Activists did not have the capabilities to help hundreds of people cope with trauma, addiction, or physical illness. The number of residents in the hotel and the long wait list quickly grew too staggering, and the security system was weak. "Things got really big really fast. More and more people showed up and we weren't equipped to properly manage that," one volunteer said.
One morning, the fire alarm went off and a resident suffered an overdose. Later that day, the owner ordered everyone to leave. He had reportedly received a letter from real estate manager Ryan Companies, outlining lease violations and safety concerns.
With their smooth run at the hotel over, organizers put out frantic calls on social media for camping gear, and began to move the Sanctuary Hotel residents to nearby Powderhorn Park.
That day, residents, housing and social services advocates, and organizers from the Sheraton held a press conference to address what would come next. One resident, Jamie, said that she had recently been sleeping at a bus stop when a man attempted to rob her. When he found she had nothing to give, he struck her in the face with a gun; her eyes were still bruised. A few days later, she was sexually assaulted while she was sleeping in a park, she said.
"Homelessness has been an issue for a long time. Now that they're shutting down [the hotel], we literally have nowhere to go," Jamie said. "Us women, definitely, are prey out here. Our children are preyed on. Something's gotta happen, and we can talk about it all day long, but if there's no action, it's just empty words. What happens next when I'm on the streets again tonight?"
"The thing that's displacing people are the same things that have been displacing people for 400 and 500 years," Fister said. "Housing is land. Native people are 20 times more likely to be homeless than white people. Homelessness is a continuation of colonialism."
"By providing this, this is a means of addressing historic, deep disparities and inequality. This is a project of housed and unhoused organizers. We're not a charity, we're not a housing program, we're not a social service agency. We are here to return land and return the resources to the people who built them and deserve them, and now it is time for the city to step up and do its job," Fister continued.
On the evening of June 10, volunteers and organizers pulled out of the Sanctuary Hotel completely to attend to the growing encampment at Powderhorn Park.
Powderhorn Park and the Minneapolis Sanctuary Movement
On the morning of June 12, those staying at Powderhorn got a 6 a.m. wakeup call from the Minneapolis Park Police. A notice, given personally to everyone residing in the park, read that the camp was in violation of Minneapolis Park and Recreation rules, and that the police would return in 72 hours to remove everyone and their belongings.
Organizers and residents from the former Sanctuary Hotel, neighborhood residents of Powderhorn, and local officials swiftly mobilized against the notice. A meeting was called at Powderhorn to discuss next actions.
"I am extremely opposed to the evictions at Powderhorn. I have asked the Superintendent to wait until after this Wednesday's board meeting so that the board can act to prevent it," Chris Meyer, a commissioner for the Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board wrote on Twitter.
With an outcry of support from Minneapolis residents, the Park Board rescinded the eviction within a matter of hours. However, pressure on government officials to step in and take action to support those experiencing homelessness only grew.
"The eviction of Minneapolis residents experiencing homelessness from the Sheraton Midtown Hotel appears to be driven by a lack of adequate resources from all levels of government, private entities, and public will. PPNA (Powderhorn Park Neighborhood Association) is one of a dozen organizations, groups, and a growing number of Minneapolis residents calling for elected and appointed municipal leaders to take action," said Tabitha Montgomery, the Executive Director of the PPNA.
At Powderhorn, residents of the encampment and volunteers have been working around the clock to provide food, basic medical care, supplies, and security. The Park Board brought in trash cans, showers, and portable toilets. There are two separate encampments in different parts of the park, currently consisting of just under 200 tents.
On June 16, people gathered for a community meeting to speak in support of protecting the sanctuary space and plan for the future.
Michelle Smith, a housing advocate, said, "I'm tired of talking, I really am… You want to meet so you can discuss what? Where's the money? You're building condominiums, you're building apartment buildings all over the state of Minnesota, and you've got your homeless people with no shelter to go to, no home, no food, no supplies, with illnesses, sleeping on the ground."
The speakers discussed safety in Powderhorn Park, services such as bathrooms and hand washing stations, and bringing in more social service providers to provide mental health and housing support. Ultimately, they called for a redistribution of city funds to support housing and resources for the homeless–now.
"Look at your city. It's all burnt up," Smith said, "Look at your beautiful city. This is a disaster. What is it going to take for you people to start building homeless shelters and places for people to live? These are not animals, or dogs, these are human beings."
Since the resolution was passed by the Park Board, the encampment at Powderhorn will remain for the time being. It will be operated and kept safe largely by Minneapolis-based volunteers and those living at the encampment. However, it remains to be seen how the city and state officials will take formal, proportionate action in response to the growing cry that housing is a human right.
