Story by Catherina Savattere
Photo by Devin Ream
It’s hard not to notice the multicolored tents creating a makeshift town along Franklin Avenue. Homemade signs on the outskirts of this settlement declare that you’re looking at “Whoville”. This display is part of a protest put on by Safe Legally Entitled Emergency Places to Sleep [SLEEPS], which is an organization that is fighting for a piece of public land where the homeless can camp free of the fear of being harassed by the police.
What you won’t learn by reading the signs is that the original encampment was given notice to leave and just recently disbanded; however, there are still tents lining the side of the road. These tents belong to a migratory population, not simply sympathizers making a statement.
Anthony Gomez, a regular in Whoville, has been traveling around the country and staying in similar camps. He testifies that Eugene isn’t the only city with a homeless problem: according to him it’s an issue that is increasing to the point where it is impossible to ignore. Gomez claims that many people think, “it’s not [their] problem, it’s somebody else’s,” and that’s why this issue has reached a stalemate.
Gomez is no stranger to this state of affairs; He ended up in camps like Whoville after ageing out of the foster care system, something he said happens to most people. After the child is old enough to be dismissed as a ward of the state, he says, “a lot of people just get booted out and have nowhere to go.”
Yet another Whoville inhabitant named Heather McBride can also attest to the sentiments stated by Gomez. McBride has been homeless since the age of 16; it began when her mother had two more children, one of which has Down Syndrome. “There just wasn’t any room for me in the house,” McBride says. At 21, McBride faces many of the same struggles as any college student, except she has the added burden of lacking a traditional home to come back to after a long day of classes.
“It takes a toll on me at school,” McBride claims. “I don’t want to be the stinky kid in class. Why should I have to feel different than all the other kids?” Just as it is for anyone, this obstruction to McBride’s self-esteem affects her performance in school.
“It definitely affects my schoolwork when I’m insecure because I’m not wearing the right clothes or I smell,” she admits. For McBride, Whoville provides the support that her peers might find at home because the fellow residents act as a surrogate family. When speaking of them, her smile broadens as she says, “They’re all proud of me at the end of my day, and that’s really important.”
Throughout the day, motorists pass by this encampment and may wonder innocently what it is. Others might pass baseless judgment on these individuals. However, for some pedestrians, Whoville will become home. For Gomez, it’s simple, he doesn’t want to see “people go to jail for being homeless.” If that means banding together and defying the law, so be it. In McBride’s words, “You don’t really know what it’s like.”

Gallery • 1 Photos

Emyrus enjoying his can of beans before heading out to collect more food and materials.