In the last few weeks, I’ve spent time with people in Oldham who’ve been in and out of street homelessness. There are some transcripts from some of these sessions at the end of this post.

You’ll see people talked about many things: reasons for homelessness, (“relationship breakdown”), Donald Trump (“you know on his head there… it won’t come off, that”), government, the state of the world (“atrocious”), Man City being full of wankers and so on.

I spent a lot of time with James, 49 and Vance, 43.

A few thoughts:

One point really stood out: the fact that James said he didn’t have any income to speak of. He didn’t receive any state assistance – no benefits, or council help with homelessness, or hostel accommodation. He hadn’t joined housing or hostel waiting lists.

He said that he tried, discovered that there was some problem with his National Insurance contributions (“your stamp when you work all your life,”) and ultimately decided to abandon the whole thing. He was reluctant to engage further. He was homeless and sofa-surfing at Vance’s place. Vance found James sleeping on the freezing concrete landing outside the flat that Vance had recently been placed in. Vance invited James in to stay.

James:

“Where Vance lives, it is a high rise flat. He find me on the top of it on the concrete floor sprawled out, sleeping. He come out of his flat. I’m on the floor on the concrete. Vance said to me: “go in my place.” He had a friend with him. He said go in there and knock on the door. He let me in. He picked me up.”

Vance:

“He was sleeping outside on the landing. I can’t see that, because I’ve been homeless meself…I did if for years meself. Absolutely years. I slept on the streets, but I got sick of sleeping on the streets, so I bought a tent. I lived in a tent for five year. It is very cold and wet… and with snow. You can’t sleep. You put your tent anywhere you can.”

So.

I mention James’ lack of income, because I have met a number of people in the same boat now – people who have no income and are in need for whatever reason, but who have abandoned attempts to get help from the jobcentre or the council and/or who give jobcentres and the council a wide berth. This needs pointing out as often as possible. People who should be getting help are not getting it. I’d go further and say people who are most in need of help are not getting it. If government’s aim was to put people off state help by making so-called support systems too torturous and painful to negotiate – job done and all that. I know that plenty of people are aware of this, but it’s worth another mention when you meet people who imply that sleeping on a freezing concrete landing is easier than applying for housing. Asking for assistance is not worth the wrangle. People hit hurdles early and leave.

“It’s called a rigmarole,” James said when we had a Sally Army lunch a couple of weeks ago and I asked him if he’d tried for hostel accommodation anywhere.

As I said, James reported that he’d been turned down for benefits and for housing – that problem with his stamp from his working days, he reckoned. Maybe there were other problems and other reasons. None of that matters. The point is that he and others I speak to don’t feel the system or those running it are inclined to sympathise, cut anyone a break, or sort problems out. Too many organisations are too controlling and too aggressive in their demands for paperwork, personal details and compliance with one ridiculous rule or another.

People expect to be pulled up for something they’ve *done* to make themselves homeless. Relationship breakdown (the starting-point a lot of people often give for their troubles), a prison record, mental health problems, job and house loss, the hardcore substance use that often goes with such losses – society doesn’t cut much slack for people with so-described self-inflicted wounds these days. Pity the same stringent standards aren’t applied to tax avoiders, or, say, MPs who blow public money on private tennis court repairs (hi, Oliver Letwin), or heating their horses’ stables (big shoutout to Nadhim Zahawi and his horses). David Cameron left his job recently due to a project fail and shitty colleagues, but I doubt he’s been round the jobcentre trying to get an adviser to understand why he walked away from work.

For everyone else, judgement permeates. Some charities are strident about not giving homeless people cash because they’ll *just* spend it on drugs and booze – for all the world as though withholding cash cured addiction and for all the world as though people are for charities to fix. Not all charities behave that way, of course. I’ve been to some drop in places where attendees have gone outside and come back smelling strongly of booze. Nobody has said a word. Rightly so. Punishment does not cure addiction. I think we’d know by now if it did.

“Foodbanks and stuff like that. And begging,” James said when I asked how he got by. Vance had some income from Universal Credit. “I’ve worked since I was 16,” James said. “I’ve not worked in the last couple of years, but I’ve worked since I was 16, since I was a child and paid the NI. They’ve going to scrap the benefit system. Nobody is going to get any benefits. Nobody. I’m not signing on. Not getting any benefits. No. I’ve not been claiming for a few years and it goes back on you. I just do it day by day.”

I sense a kind of shrinking in some people when it comes to raising a hand for help. Everyone knows that they’ve done, been, or spent something that will count against them. Personally, I don’t care what people have done, or how they’ve spent their lives, or money, or relationships, or whatever. Life is complex. Some people have enough money to paper over the cracks. Others don’t. All that matters is that people are homeless at this point. In winter. People don’t sleep on a concrete landing, or bunk on a friend’s couch when they have other options. It was clear that James didn’t want to push the DWP, or the council, further on the subject of entitlement – something to do with the rigmarole, I gathered. I asked James if he wanted me to go to the jobcentre with him to try and sort things out. He said he did, but as time went on, it became obvious that he didn’t. He politely turned down suggestions to set up a meeting. Fair enough. God knows I wouldn’t want to have to grovel at a jobcentre.

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Anyway – James and Vance. They both grew up in Oldham. We hung around for a few days in November and we will hang around for some more. They challenged me to a game of pool at the Salt Cellar drop-in at one point. That came about because I said that I was great at pool. It turned out that we were all useless. “He’s a good man,” James said of Vance. “He just can’t play pool… they call him 7-ball.”

“Relationship breakdown,” they both said when I asked how people become and stay homeless. Both James and Vance had two children. “I been with my lady for 15 years… something happens and they kick you out and you end up homeless,” Vance said.

Some of our conversations:

Vance:

“Don’t ask me my views on the world. it’s atrocious.”

“What’s atrocious?”

“It’s everything, really… you’ve got to be happy, though. Every morning when you wake up, you have to be happy, like I say, because if you’re miserable, you’re miserable all day. So – be happy. Be happy all day.”

James [noticing my pink knitted hat]: “That’s a nice hat, that.”

Vance: “He always notices hats….don’t give him that, please. He’ll wear that round town, that.”

James:

“Where Vance lives, it is a high rise flat. He find me on the top of it on the concrete floor sprawled out, sleeping. He come out of his flat. I’m on the floor on the concrete. Vance said to me: “go in my place.” He had a friend with him. He said go in there and knock on the door. He let me in. He picked me up.”

Vance:

“He was sleeping outside on the landing. I can’t see that, because I’ve been homeless meself…I did if for years meself. Absolutely years. I slept on the streets, but I got sick of sleeping on the streets, so I bought a tent. I lived in a tent for five year. It is very cold and wet… and with snow. You can’t sleep. You put your tent anywhere you can.”

“I put me tent right outside the council door in Oldham. When she’s opened in the door in the morning, she’s said “you got to move your tent.” I said “I’m not moving it. Simple as that.” Within a week, they put me in a hotel for a week and after two weeks, I had a place.”

James: “I was born in Oldham. I was born on the settee. I was born on the couch. I just wanted to get started…yes, Oldham has [changed a lot over the years]. All the mills have gone. There’s not much work. I had a job, but I had to move down south [for it]. I had family here, so…didn’t go down south. You know Body Shop cosmetics? I was working for them…but I said no, I’m not going down south. It’s too expensive. I’m not paying £4 for a loaf of bread.”

Vance: “It’s a fiver for a pint down there. You don’t get a full pint. Doesn’t come up all the way in your glass.”

We talk about Donald Trump for a while. I bring the subject up. Nobody else raises politics.

James: “Oh, I don’t know him. I don’t want to know him. Nothing to me…it’s going to cause the third world war. There’s been two world wars fighting guns and all that. Third world war is …. I hope not. He will start trouble. He’s a maniac. You know on his head there, it’s a wig. He’s got a wig. It won’t come off, that. Have you seen it going over like that.”

What do you think about the government here?

James: “I don’t really… I don’t really give about it… I’m not bothered really. I can get on.”

Have you got kids?

James: “[I’ve got] two lads. They are 25 and 11. I don’t live there. So me oldest lad is 25. He looks after his brother… the one that is 11 is at school. My other lad, he is doing painting and decorating. He’s got his own van and that… I done that myself.”

They talk about Vance’s flat in the middle of town. They say that a lot of dealing goes on in the area.

James: It’s not good there. It’s like it’s all drugs. It’s not good. Off the town centre… it’s like Beirut.”

Vance: “It’s Beirut come after five o’clock at night. It just turns… everyone starts coming out and it’s like Beirut. I’ve lived there for a year in that place, but James, he’s homeless. I’m putting James up because he’s homeless.”

Does the council give you any help?

Vance: “Council will give me help, but they won’t give him any benefits. What is it? You haven’t got enough stamps? You know…”

James: “Your stamp when you work all your life…I know and I’ve worked since I was 16. I’ve not worked in the last couple of years, but I’ve worked since I was 16, since I was a child and paid the NI. They’ve going to scrap the benefit system. Nobody is going to get any benefits. Nobody. No, I’m not signing on. Not getting any benefits. No. I’ve not been claiming for a few years and it goes back on you. I just do it day by day.”

How do you pay for food and things like that?

James: “Foodbanks and stuff like that. And begging.”

Vance: “I’m on that Universal…. Urggh… I don’t sign on… I do have to go in, but I don’t have to sign on. I don’t have to look for work. I was on the sick, but they struck me off…up at Bridge House [the Atos assessment centre] and they struck me off straight away. But me adviser said that I could hand a sick note to them every month, so…”

Are there any [homelessness] hostels around here?

James: “Yeah, there’s hostels around here… but [getting in] it’s called a rigmarole. Taking…it’s like a loophole… All the industry’s gone, all the mills…they’ve all gone down. All you got now is Asian’s kebabs shops…I’m not going down there [to London]. Not going down there. No chance. No way. Four pounds for a loaf of bread… bet they don’t sell Warburtons down there. The beer… it’s all watered down.”

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Me: “So Vance can’t play pool…”

James: “They call him 7 Ball…”

Me: “7 Balls?”

Vance: “You’ll find out on Tuesday [at the Ark]… they got pool.”

James: “Get some ketchup,” [for the chips Vance is eating].

Me: “You call it ketchup? How American. We call it tomato sauce [in New Zealand]. On Tuesday, I will play you at pool. We will see what old 7 Balls is like.”

James: “You made my day… last Tuesday, this lad is trying to play… he’s hit the ball like that, but what he’s done, he’s knocking the ball backwards like that.”

Vance: “I took the cue in half… I unscrewed it like that. You will find out on Tuesday.”

Me. “It’s on.”

James: “Do you know about poppies? It’s this Sunday. Remembrance. Go and get me one [popppy]…it’s for Sunday. [There are poppies in a donation box at the front of the church we’re in].

I help James put the poppy on. Maneuvering the pin is a bit tricky.

Me: “I don’t want to stab you.”

James: “I tried to go in the army, but when I was younger, somebody smashed a car window and I was with these people and I got in trouble. I didn’t do it and I went to the army careers and I said I want to go in the army and they went “you can’t, you had a record.” I’d have done about 15 years [in the army] and then come out with a pension. I was gutted. I was sat there for about half the morning with the Sargent and I said “I want to go in the army,” and I did want to go in the army. I was only 16, 17 (when the window was broken). Didn’t do time.”

A woman comes over to take Vance’s coffee cup to the kitchen. We keep it. Vance likes to use the one cup each session.

Me: “He’s going to fight for the cup.”

James: “The other day, I got him a coffee, but I changed the cup. He said “what are you doing?!” I said “sorry mate. I didn’t know.”

Me: “He did seem very committed to that cup.”

On football:

James: “Mainly round here it is Manchester United. There’s also got the Blues – Manchester Shitty.”

Me: “Manchester City just seems full of wankers, really. There’s just something about them.”

James: “Say it again.”

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