Not Feeling the Compassion from Police or City
It was the last night time before the June third sweep. There was a breeze, cool but warm weather, and a sense of community. Wade who lived with Moriah in a small plywood installation was busy at his makeshift bike shop repairing bikes in exchange for parts, cans of food or cash.
“I will definitely miss this spot,” Moriah said of being forced out. “It's one of the coolest spots down in downtown Reno. I can watch the cars go by [on the Wells Ave. bridge]. I haven't ridden in a car in over like two years for more than maybe 15 minutes. So it's definitely nice to watch, you know, the normal people as they live their lives. And it's one of the clearest spots because there's less city pollution out here. You can actually see stars so you can sit out here and watch the stars. That's what a lot of us do. It's a connection to nature in a lot of ways, as well as a way to break away from all the mental problems,” she said of why people prefer living in encampments, rather than shelters, where she says she feels unsafe and at a higher risk of being robbed. You can’t stay as a couple in a shelter either, she said, have very many belongings, and there’s the new risk of the spread of COVID-19 in a cramped indoor space.
We interviewed Moriah before, when she was displaced in March, and she was 19 at the time. In her two decades now, she’s been through a lot: an abusive foster family, being a runaway, having a child at 16, being forced to give up her daughter to adoption, the list of hardships just seems infinite.
She was going to stay until she was kicked out, she told us, even if it meant dealing with aggressive police.
“I am bipolar,” she said. “I also have PTSD, so it's definitely hard when cops are coming at us belligerently. We're not trying to make the city look bad. We're actually just trying to live our lives like anybody else,” she said.
Wade was busy at his makeshift bike shop on the last night before the sweep took place, uprooting the entire tent community.
In Favor of Safe Camps
Several groups in Washoe County have been advocating for the creation of safe camps, which Moriah says she wholeheartedly supports.
“I would love to have a safe camp for all of us, you know? The police could monitor it. We could have the resources that we would need, but ultimately when someone wants to live like this, they just want a safe place to go,” she said. “That's all we're looking for is a safe place to go. We're tired of being bumped out of place to place. We want somewhere to ultimately go. “
She says sometimes people don’t understand what it’s like to be chronically without stable shelter.
“I'm honestly working on trying to get into housing, but 90% of us out here that have been out here for so long, it's hard to be integrated back into regular civilization,” she said. “Considering the fact that when a prisoner is in prison for say 20 to 30 years of their life, it becomes a totally different world from when they first went in. That's how it is for us. You know, we've lived like this for so long that when we get integrated back into regular society, it becomes the hardest thing ever. And we end up collapsing and coming back down here.”
Moriah says she thinks the area of the encampment is in a sinkhole. There has been talk of burner artist projects involving the Generator maker space for the lots in this area, but no recent updates on those plans.
Tense Times
The recent unrest in Reno following the peaceful George Floyd protest march caused tension in the camp, which was already high due to the police reported May 22nd deadly shooting of 34-year-old Michael Roach at the encampment.
“In a lot of ways it makes the police more aggressive and scary to us,” Moriah said.
She said on the night of the unrest one of the dumpsters along E. Commercial Row, on the long cul-de-sac of this encampment, was set ablaze.
“I actually watched the riot that went across the Wells bridge with the pink smoke cannons. And I'm like, what is going on? I have a phone that can connect to internet. And so I do look up what happens in our city of Reno,” she said of trying to keep track of COVID-19, the current national unrest and what’s happening locally.
“When it comes to the homeless, we try to stay out of sight out of mind,” she said, even if it doesn’t always work. When encampments get bigger, they tend to get uprooted, and the whole process of moving, finding a new camp, a new sense of community begins again.
A man who had been closely listening to the interview, while waiting to get his bike fixed and holding a tiny Bible, thanked us and left us with these parting words.
“Even if we don’t fit in the civilization as she said, shouldn’t there be a place for us?”