09/05/2026
Encampments may be the most visible form of homelessness, yet many people go unseen.
When I first experienced homelessness, I set up my tent a good 20-minute walk into the woods of Spryfield, far from any encampment. To my knowledge, no one ever noticed me.
I spent roughly two months back there.
The next time I was unsheltered, I set up in Mt. Uniacke. I had grown up there, and the woods felt safer to me than the city.
I spent another two months there. This time I was noticed, but I was still far from the public eye, deep past the train tracks, next to a lake where I could fish and bathe.
When people think about the scale of homelessness, they often look at shelters, pallets, and pods, or others who are visibly housed through programs. What gets missed are the people couch surfing, living in cars, stuck in situationships, or moving between Airbnbs and hotels just to get by.
When we think about the most vulnerable, we often measure the crisis by the size of encampments. But that ignores how many people are struggling in isolation, trying to survive this privately.
From abandoned doorways to under highway overpasses, the reality is far larger than what most people see.
Yet Halifax’s response is often to fence off areas, board things up, and shut down established encampments, pushing more Nova Scotians into even more hidden and unstable situations.
I ask you, Andy Fillmore and Tim Houston
How does removing the requirement for new builds to have affordable units help this?
How do fixed-term leases that can end in eviction, even with on-time payments and good tenancy, help this?
How does relying on the federal government to build a limited amount of public housing, only for those who meet strict criteria, help this?
How does it reflect on you that someone like Andrew Goodsell a very well articulated man, still on the street due to red tape?
Please share this until we get answers.
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