You can’t apply as homeless without an address. What.

This week’s bureaucratic classic:

Yesterday, I was in First Choice Homes in Oldham with Paul, 67, who is homeless. He lives in a caravan at the moment (see pictures below). Joy.

Paul had to make a change to his homelessness and housing register application/record (they’re both on the same form, we were told). He needed to add medical information, because he had a new letter about his health from his doctor. He had to do this online as you must do most things these days. We were ushered over to First Choice’s computer bank as soon as we mentioned the change of circumstances at reception.

So.

Not long into the computer session, we hit a screen which demanded Paul’s address (again). There was, of course, a big and very immediate problem with this. Paul doesn’t have an address BECAUSE HE IS HOMELESS (he wasn’t able to fill in the House Type field either, given that there was no Caravan option in the menu). An address field on a homelessness form would surely be an optional extra in his case – and for the many people I meet who sleep rough, or sofa-surf all over the place, or whatever.  But no. The form would not submit unless the address fields were filled. This is the point where you have to cast about for any old shit that might work in the form fields – maybe a friend or relative’s address, or an older address if you have one. That hardly reflects your situation, though. It doesn’t give you much confidence in the process, either, given that the process doesn’t give accurate insight into your situation.

SIGH. Here’s a shot of the screen not working. It’s fuzzy, but you get the idea. The red fields and exclamation marks are as usual:

I can’t tell you how often my head is done in by public service applications and screens these days. There really does not seem to be a single benefit or housing application process which doesn’t involve a major hurdle or nine. Phone calls to the DWP and councils take ages/go nowhere. Online forms don’t work, or they demand information people can’t easily give. Some processes look and feel as though they were built in technology’s dark ages.

You can set aside a whole morning or afternoon to make calls, or fill in forms these days and get absolutely nowhere (I’ve set aside two afternoons this week for such calls and forms, and emerged no further ahead on both occasions). You inevitably conclude that all aspects of the system are designed to put people off applying. Certainly, very little seems to be designed with the real-life needs of real service users in mind. Can’t wait to see how much further things deteriorate as more and more public money is diverted into endless Brexit departments and projects. Out in the real world, this is how life goes. Continue reading

“Towards Work” activities to get a DHP and stayed housed. How big is conditionality going to get?

Throwing this one out there for your inspection:

Recently, I came across strict, new-ish Derby City Council conditionality rules for people who apply for Discretionary Housing Payments, Council Tax hardship payments and Local Assistance help.

Those rules are here.

For those who don’t know the territory: Discretionary Housing Payments are short-term payments to help people cover housing-cost problems such as rent shortfalls. Local Assistance Schemes buy items like furniture and fridges when people can’t afford them. Council tax hardship payments are, obviously, for people who struggle to meet council tax bills after council tax support.

Since November 2016 in Derby, this help has come with hefty conditions for some applicants. Of course – it is not unusual for councils to ask people to engage in an activity such as debt advice in exchange for a DHP, etc. That’s happened for ages. The Derby list sets out more hoops to jump through. That’s why I’m posting it. I found it while I was searching for help generally for a single mum. Other councils may have similar. No doubt more and more will as time goes on and more funding is cut.

You’ll see from this page that people who apply for DHPs, Council Tax help and Local Welfare Assistance and fall into certain categories: “must be willing to take up and remain engaged with appropriate support recommended by the council.”

This “support” may include:

– money advice
– budgeting support
– access to banking products
– access to digital skills support
– access to job clubs
– training and housing advice

Failure to participate could mean you get and/or keep nothing:

“If you do not engage with your support programme, any award that you receive from the Single Discretionary Award Scheme may be at risk.”

“Towards work” requirements are among the conditions as you can see.

So.

You may think this is all perfectly fair.

I do not.

This is the kind of list which gets on my nerves very badly. It smacks to me of gatekeeping and of the state’s ever-tightening grip on people who are in extreme financial hardship. Conditions for receiving benefits and hardship help become more and more invasive and exacting, as anyone who signs on for JSA or Universal Credit will tell you. Anyone who requests state help these days automatically loses all right to autonomy. Continue reading

Homeless and placed in a neighbourhood where people think you’re a nark

More life and political views from people who must rely on benefits:

Posted below is a transcript of a recorded interview made recently with Michael (named changed on request). Michael is in his mid-50s. We made this recording at a foodbank and kitchen lunch in the Manchester area in February (Michael asked for his details to be kept anonymous).

Most weeks, I spend several hours at foodbanks and kitchen lunches recording interviews with people who rely exclusively on benefits. In the mainstream press and politics, we hear a lot about Just About Managing Families and the Squeezed Middle, and other groups that have some political clout. We hear less from people who are marginalised and considered irrelevant. That’s a pity, because people who are considered irrelevant have a lot of relevant experiences, particularly when it comes to dealing first-hand with fallout from welfare reform. We talk about everything at our meetings: homelessness, housing, money, work, politics, Brexit, drug and alcohol addiction, mental health, family and the DWP.

Michael talked about most of those things.

He was particularly concerned about his living arrangements.

Michael had recently been street homeless. He’d even stayed on the floor of his local church for a time. A few months ago, he was placed in a flat on an estate by his local homelessness office. He liked the flat, but wanted to move. He wanted to get away from another drinker on the estate. He said that his neighbours bullied him, because they thought he was a nark.

Michael said people thought this because he spent a lot of time in the company of a copper. (I wasn’t sure if Michael meant a copper, or a community support officer, or another sort of volunteer. People deal with countless agencies and support workers. Wires get crossed). There may have been other problems, but Michael didn’t volunteer them. He said the policeman worked with a local community partnership. This support worker sometimes took Michael to benefits assessments and GP appointments. He helped Michael fill in benefit application forms.

Michael received Employment and Support Allowance. He’d had a serious heart attack a couple of years ago. Michael said that money was tight. He couldn’t afford to run the heating at his flat for more than half-an-hour a day. He wore many layers of clothing on the day that we met: a shirt, several sweatshirts and his coat. The clothes were dirty. He said he wore the clothes to bed for the warmth.

Michael was informed and eloquent. He read the papers. He said he had a degree and had worked in different parts of the world in well-paid professions. He’d lived in Asia for years and knew a great deal about different countries there. He’d also had a serious drink problem for years. In recent times, the booze had caught up with him, as it does when people reach 40 or 50. The pancreas goes, the liver goes, the heart goes, the balance goes and the mental health goes. The money’s gone. People talk a lot about things they did and things they say they did. Michael was still drinking. He looked unwell. His face was pale and pouchy, and his hands trembled. He held them out to show me. He looked sick with hangover and he probably was. It was good to know that he was at least housed and had some money coming in. Alcohol is such a wrecker. There’s nothing much left at the end.

We talked about the booze, Michael’s heart attack and his homelessness, government, Brexit (“the most unfortunate thing is that David Cameron ended… George Osborne…they were rebuilding the economy, doing a fantastic job,”) and his fears for his safety in the neighbourhood he’d been placed in. Being pegged as a nark weighed heavily on Michael’s mind.

This is the story that Michael told. This is the sort of conversation I have with someone every week or so. Michael began by talking about the way his relationship with the copper had come about:

“When I went to hospital [for a recent appointment, because of Michael’s health problems after his heart attack] – they’ve got a new community support team there. You’ve got the housing company, the health people, [the] council and the police. They all work together in a team in this unit.

A policeman is my designated support worker. He’s plainclothes CID, quite senior, but he’s a really nice bloke and we’re good friends now. He is my personal support worker. [He] give me lifts in his car – makes sure I get to the hospital and dentist’s, and things like that… [he] helps me with all my paperwork. Without him, I’d be absolutely lost.

The trouble with it is because I’ve only been there [living in the flat he was placed in by the local housing office] for six months, I’m seen as a relative newcomer… The people who have lived as residents for many years there really dislike the police, so they see me as some sort of police informant. They don’t get it that when he’s [the policeman] is working at that hub, he’s not being a policeman. He’s not being a copper on duty. He’s actually working as part of the community team.

What they’re trying to do [with that team] is instead of the people going to the authorities, the authorities go to the local villages to support the people with all kinds of issues – health, financial, gas, heating, hate crime. They’re there to support…not to go around arresting people, or hindering people. But the local residents just don’t get that this guy is supporting me…

People have made lots and lots of threats. [I’ve] been hit a couple of times… I live there on my own. I’ve got no backup at all. My mother and father are dead. The only friends I’ve got are in London… plus, I’ve got a degree, so they see me as some sort of pseudo-intellectual… foreign… outside that’s come in working in conjunction with the police and knocking at their world. Which I’m not.

Continue reading

More recordings: intentionally homeless if you’re evicted for benefit cap rent arrears…?

More food for thought from conversations about the benefit cap at the actual coal face:

I’ve posted below a recording in which a Basildon council officer says that people who are evicted because of benefit cap rent arrears could be found to have made themselves intentionally homeless.

Which was not the best news. Council help for you is very much reduced if you’re judged responsible for your homelessness. You’re more or less on your own with your homelessness problems if that happens as I’ve seen it. You would have thought that people evicted on account of rent arrears caused by the benefit cap should and would be cut slack in this area – particularly if they were placed in housing that they could afford before the benefit cap was lowered – but maybe not.

Certainly, officers make interesting remarks on the ground. It’s all important to note:

The recording below was made at a February meeting with a woman who has serious rent arrears because of the recently-lowered benefit cap. The woman and her three young children were placed in a Basildon flat by Newham council. Basildon council handles the family’s housing benefit claim. This woman’s housing benefit was cut by about £100 a week when the cap was lowered at the end of last year. A small discretionary housing payment covers part of her rent shortfall until the end of March. We went to Basildon council to ask what else she could do.

The officer said the woman should go back to Newham council to ask if Newham thought her flat was still affordable now that her housing benefit had been cut.

The officer then said intentional homelessness was on the cards if this woman was evicted because of benefit cap arrears:

(This audio has been altered to disguise voices. Am not particularly in pursuit of individual officers here. It’s the message that’s the issue).

“If you become homeless, it could be that you’d be seen as intentionally homeless anyway, because you… if you’ve been evicted for rent arrears, then it is through non-payment of rent that you’ve lost your property.

That got my attention, all right. In the recording, you hear me ask:

“Would that mean no one would have a duty to house her? Is that the case, even when [the rent arrears have been caused by] something like that [benefit] cap that’s come in subsequently….?”

“This is why you need to see Newham council about the affordability, because if they say it is affordable, then you’re going to have to struggle by and get it paid…” the officer said. “If they don’t think it’s affordable, then because they have a duty, they have a duty to assist you to find something cheaper, or…”

Or what? I thought.

I contacted Newham council to ask whether or not the council was likely to decide that people had made themselves homeless intentionally if they were evicted because of rent arrears caused by the benefit cap. Unfortunately, the council did not respond. Think I must still be on their blacklist (we apparently fell out over my Focus E15 stories. Do they hold a grudge or what). If anyone else can get an answer out of them, by all means let me know. It would be good to have that peg in the ground for future reference.

Anyway. Official positions don’t always matter when you get down to it. This is the sort of thing you hear on the ground. Putting it all out there.

Many thanks to @nearlylegal for help with benefit cap questions over the past while.

The very personal information you must give in public if you need state help

A short post on the state and petty humiliations:

Posted below is a list of questions taken from a recorded conversation between a woman affected by the recently-lowered benefit cap and a Basildon council housing options officer last week.

This woman is already in significant rent arrears because of the lowered cap. She went to Basildon council to ask what would happen if she couldn’t pay the arrears (the answers, which you probably can guess already, are at the end of this post). I went with her.

Basildon has an open-plan public services hub: council services, the library and the jobcentre all in one enormous ground-floor room. Security guards roam the place. You take a ticket and wait for your number to come up on a computer screen.

“There’s no privacy,” the woman I was with said when we got there.

She was right. There wasn’t. There were a few private rooms off to the side here and there, but you weren’t invited to use one. There were open cubicles all over the place across the floor. You could hear absolutely everything that was going on in the ones around you. At one point, we sat next to a guy who was explaining to an officer why he was struggling to pay his council tax. We might as well have been attending his appointment with him. We could hear every single word that he said. Continue reading

Look at the state of this flat. Here is independence vs neglect in austerity

These recent photos show the mould and mess in a one-room Haringey flat that is occupied by a man his mid-50s (I’m withholding his real name in this story).

This man has learning difficulties. He also has diabetes, which he struggles to manage, and is in poor health. These photos were sent to me recently. I visited this flat a number of times a while back and have known this guy for several years. His living conditions are usually atrocious.

He is about to be evicted from this flat, because it is in such an appalling state. He received a court notice last Thursday. He brought the notice in to show members of the Kilburn Unemployed Workers’ Group at their Thursday afternoon meeting (he also had other photos of the mould in the flat, which he showed us).

Some history:

This man lived with his mother until she died over a decade ago. While his mother was alive, he always had work as a general and kitchen assistant in hotels and kitchens.

This man was made redundant from his last job about nine years ago. He signed on for jobseekers’ allowance and has been put through the DWP’s usual Work Choice/Work Programme mill, with no results whatsoever. He has not found work again. His health has deteriorated to the point where he needs to apply for Employment and Support Allowance. Members of the Kilburn group are helping him with his forms.

Since his mother died, housing has been a major challenge for this man.

So.

There are two main problems for people in this sort of situation.

The first is accommodation itself – finding places in the private sector which people can afford to rent when they rely primarily on housing benefit. Continue reading

Benefit cap arrears and eviction threats for women and children. Already.

Another short post on impossible situations:

Here’s a rent arrears demand recently received by a woman who lives in a Basildon flat with her three young children (the arrears have increased since she received this letter).

It appears these arrears have come about because of the recently-lowered benefit cap.

This woman’s benefits exceeded the Out of Greater London limit of £384.62 by about £100 a week. As a result, at the end of last year, her housing benefit was cut by about £100 a week from about £188 a week to to £87 a week (think the sums are correct, looking at the paperwork. Give me a shout if you think the totals need looking at. Maths problems with these things are not at all uncommon).

Basildon council recently gave this woman a discretionary housing payment of £20 a week to cover some of the rent shortfall. That helps a bit, but only a bit. She only gets the DHP for the short term, too. After that, she either finds the full whack each week, or moves house again (this time with a serious arrears history) and takes the kids out of school again (she was recently in temporary accommodation in another borough)… or she ultimately gets evicted, I guess:

“I don’t know what to do,” she says.

I don’t really know what to do either, if I’m honest. Which is not particularly helpful.

What I do know is that I spend an awful lot of time these days with people in different parts of the country who show me demands for rent money they can’t pay and/or which say court and eviction are on the cards. As I write this, an email about a looming eviction in Haringey has landed in my inbox. I go to foodbanks and foodbank-lunches and inevitably end up talking to at least one person who is clutching a folder of letters about rent arrears.

Continue reading

Councils, housing associations and the DWP are crushing people with debt

While Brexit and Trump hoover resources and headlines, the state and so-called social landlords continue to get away with screwing people into the ground:

Last week, I spent several hours at the South Chadderton foodbank in Oldham speaking with people who’d come in for groceries.

We talked about the reasons why people needed to use the foodbank.

One explanation in particular came up, as it does a lot: Debt repayment plans are leaving people with no money.

People on benefits and low incomes are repaying arrears or loans money to councils, housing associations, the DWP, bailiffs and god knows who else – but they can’t afford it. The loss of the fivers and tenners that authorities deduct in repayments make a tolerable life impossible. People certainly don’t have the hundreds, or sometimes thousands, of pounds that are really needed to shift these debts. Simple equation, when you look at it. Debts grow and penalties grow, but income does not.

Still, we have these repayment plans.

At South Chadderton, I talked for a long while with a young guy called Neil (name changed. There’s a transcript from the interview we recorded at the end of this post).

Neil needed a food parcel, because Oldham’s First Choice Homes housing association and the DWP were taking cuts from Neil’s benefit for rent arrears and loan repayments. Other authorities were queuing up for a share: Neil had been summonsed to court for council tax arrears. Neil couldn’t afford the repayments, but he had to pay all the same. You’ll see from the letter above that First Choice Homes is taking £30 a fortnight for rent arrears (out of a benefit total of about £130).

Neil said that talking to the housing association was hopeless (I offered to make a call).

“They say the lowest they can go is £30…they’re on the phone, going on with themselves.. I said, “hang on a minute.” They said, “can you make a payment now?” I said, “I’ve got nothing to give you.” (I’ve had plenty of similar conversations where I’ve tried, fruitlessly, to convince organisations to go easy because people can’t meet their debts).

It should come as no surprise that Neil was recently done for theft. He did a stretch last year for theft by finding – “[it was] a load of slates in the alley. They’d been there for two year.” This sort of story is very common indeed. I’ve met a number of guys in the area now who’ve been in and out of jail in recent times. (Two out of the three people I spoke to at the foodbank last week had done time).

The problem is life when people get out. Neil lost his housing benefit while he was in prison. He ended up with rent arrears. That total has gone up again, because he didn’t make repayments over Christmas and New Year. Neil decided to keep hold of his benefit money instead. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, etc. I’d take the same view myself. Neil couldn’t stand another call with the council or the housing association on the topic. I find this all the time these days as well. Every contact with the bureaucracy is a bitter fight. People don’t even want to talk to an officer to ask if calculation mistakes have been made, or to question sums they don’t understand, or if letters are correct, or if there are other options for help.

Continue reading

Homeless: avoid the coppers, find a B&B…

Here are a few more perspectives from some of the street homeless people I’ve been speaking to in Manchester. I wander around from time to time and sit down with people for a while. We shoot the breeze about this and that.

You’ll note that both of the people in this article mention concerns about the police moving people on if they were found begging that day. The first guy, Chris*, said he’d heard that people were being sent back to their home towns and the second guy, Dave*, talked about fines for begging. There was certainly a ripple of concern going around that day. That’s the sort of thing I’m writing about here: concerns and uncertainties. On a given day, concerns travel. People say the same things.

The Manchester police said that the “GMP does not fine or return those found begging to their home towns,” and that “only where begging is accompanied by anti-social or criminal behaviour then we may issue a Dispersal Notice.”

So. People I spoke to around Manchester on a Thursday night had other views:

Sitting outside the NCP carpark on Blackfriars Street was Chris, 33. We chatted for a while. He was concerned about the coppers. He said that he’d heard they were out and about moving people on if they had cups out for coins.

We also talked about signing on for jobseekers’ allowance. He said – as a lot of people on the streets do when this subject is raised – that people had problems if they tried to sign on and to stay signed on without a stable address. It seems that people can use a Care Of address to sign on, but not everyone finds that easy to manage. People find keeping up with the DWP’s jobsearch demands and endless letters extremely difficult – which is hardly surprising. Benefit sanctions are never far away when you miss letters and meetings. As Dave says below, it can be hard to make yourself available for work when you’re homeless.

Chris said that he didn’t know what was happening with his JSA claim.

He was from Crewe:

“People who come here from all over the country as well like from different cities… they just end up here and there’s nowhere to go.

Well – the police and that have been going around today… and if they ain’t from around here, they’ve been telling them… sending them back where they are from…? I don’t know, but that’s what I’ve been told today…by…

[They come round] before Christmas, yeah…[to clear the streets for Christmas shoppers].

We talk about signing on for JSA.

You haven’t got an address you can’t….[sign on] yeah…

Did they tell you at the jobcentre?

Yeah…No, some people have got Care Of addresses, like, but they are only getting half the giro as well… I don’t know what is going on with mine, so. Don’t know what [it’s like] round here, like, but I know in…

[This] country needs sorting out…it needs knocking down and starting again.

I’m from Crewe. My girlfriend is up here. She is living at her parents’ at the moment. I’ve got a boy. He is [a baby].

Do you get to see him at all?

Yeah .

[I’m looking for a B&B tonight] Hopefully. I need £16. Continue reading

I can’t get benefits because I’m homeless and I haven’t got an address. Wtf is going on here.

I have been speaking with people who are homeless and who don’t have a fixed address.

They say that they can’t get or keep the benefits that they need.

The DWP says – of course – that things there is a system that homeless people can use to claim benefits and that the system works well.

I have doubts about that.

Last week, I spoke with three street homeless men in Manchester who all said – separately and adamantly – that they couldn’t and didn’t sign on for jobseekers’ allowance, because they didn’t have an address. I wasn’t actually looking to ask people about that in the first instance. The subject just kept coming up. I’ve been out in various parts of Manchester in the evenings talking with some of the people here who are street homeless. There are longer extracts from a couple of these interviews at the end of this article. We talked about housing benefit too, which obviously has address implications, but we were discussing JSA and ESA in this context:

“I’ve got nothing. I can’t claim benefits, because I’ve no address…You used to be able to sign on and they would give you so much money every day. Not any more. That’s all gone. Doesn’t exist anymore, that. Doesn’t exist.” Paul, 56, Deansgate, Thursday evening.

“You can’t claim dole, because you need a letterbox to get ID, but you need ID to get a letterbox…So all is as left is to beg, yeah…[I’ve been doing this for] five years…At the beginning, I had bags and bags of stuff. I had all me ID and that…[but] because you can’t look after it all the time, you stash it and other homeless people find it and… [shrugs].” Darren, 44, outside the Arndale Centre on Tuesday.

“I’m not going to get any benefits until you (sic) get an address.” Tom, 24, near Piccadilly station, Tuesday evening.

These conversations got me thinking. They got me thinking about exclusion, mainly – the ways in which people who really are on the rough end of things can be excluded from the income and support that might make a difference. I want to know more about the systems that the DWP and the government that is overseeing this mess have in place to make sure that people aren’t excluded from that support (yeah – I know. Don’t laugh). I get that people on the street can lead chaotic lives. I get that some people can have serious drug and alcohol problems, but so what. People with serious substance abuse problems should not be denied essentials such as housing and income. You adjust a system to meet needs, not the other way around. Readers of this site will know that the systems that people must use to claim benefits – benefits systems run by the DWP and jobcentres – can be extremely hard to navigate now and are in meltdown, even for claimants who do have an address. Readers of this site will also know that there is often a mile-wide gap between the way that the DWP says things work and the way that things actually work (if they work at all, that is).

So I rang the DWP. Needless to say, the DWP said that there was a functional system in place for prospective benefit claimants who don’t have an address. I rang the DWP’s New Claims line on Monday to ask (and spent 20 minutes on hold, just FYI. I’m keeping track of this aspect of service access). I spoke to an officer who insisted that there was a robust claims system in place for homeless people and that many used it. The officer seemed annoyed that I suggested otherwise. A Care Of address could be used, or a friend’s address (Why can’t he use your address if you’re a friend? this officer said to me at one point). The DWP said (when I asked) that people could use their local jobcentre as their Care Of address for DWP mail if they wanted (I wonder how many people want that). Continue reading