Homelessness, extreme poverty and chronic hunger are starkly contrasted to the ideals of the American Dream, yet they remain a concern in our communities.

Born in New York City, I’m used to seeing men and women with tattered clothing and shopping bags sitting uncomfortably on sidewalk corners. For many years, this was the image that came to mind when I envisioned a homeless person: sleeping on a bench or by the side of a building; picking away at leftovers from a public trash; collecting coins from good Samaritans passing on the street.

These people, however, represent only a small percentage of the U.S. homeless population. You’d be hard-pressed to find such obviously homeless families in the Upper Valley—but, as I’ve learned since moving to Hanover in 2004, that doesn’t mean that rural homelessness doesn’t exist rather close to our quaint college town.

The formal definition of homelessness, as released by the U.S. Alcohol, Drug Abuse and Mental Health Administration, is “anyone who lacks adequate shelter, resources and community ties”. This indicates that the homeless community is far from homogonous. The majority of the homeless—nearly 80 percent—find themselves temporarily homeless because of emergencies, like unexpected job loss (Hello, recession).

From the ivory tower, most scholars of homelessness subscribe to either “structural” or “individual” causational theories. Those who see the roots of homelessness as structural cite unemployment, capitalism, and poverty as the primary causes; on the other hand, those who attribute homelessness to individual causes discuss mental illness, substance abuse, and circumstance.

One of the main arguments of structuralism is that the ever-fluctuating housing market forced people out of their homes. Between 1975 and 1995, the United States experienced an enormous flux in the construction of condominiums and apartments for yuppies. These shiny new homes replaced low-income housing, and during this twenty-year period, nearly 2.2 million low-income houses were lost. Meanwhile, the population of low-income renters increased by 4.7 million, creating an enormous disparity between the demand and supply of affordable houses available.

Structural causes, however, ultimately tie back to the homeless individual’s connections to society—some authors have gone so far as to redefine homelessness exclusively in terms of a person’s social connections, asserting that the primary indication of homelessness is the extent to which a person associates with his or her community.

By reducing the significance of personal history—drug abuse, for example—structural explanations also help reduce the amount of blame society places on individuals for their situations. This likely lessens the stigma associated with homelessness.

In reality, however, scholars can’t point to either structural or individual causes and find clear-cut grounds for the problem of homelessness. Homelessness is not homogenous; the homeless each have their own narratives and come from different sociocultural settings. To make sweeping generalizations and claim the greater importance of structural or individual factors is fruitless. Structural problems do exist; our financial system does lend itself to inequality; there was and still is an issue of available affordable housing.

Individual stories are also important—individual narratives illustrate how personal history and circumstance are critical to understanding how and why an individual became homeless. A 2002 PBS news story, for example, introduced Lorena, who fled a domestic violence situation with her two young sons and moved into a shelter. After a few weeks, they relocated to transitional housing, where they stayed until she had saved enough money to purchase their own house.

Lorena illustrates a meeting point of structural causes—the lack of affordable housing for her to move into after she had left her abusive husband—and individual causes (namely, domestic violence). Moreover, “Lorena” could be your neighbor, your hairdresser, or a friend’s parent. Homelessness and extreme poverty are far closer to home than we may care to recognize.

This is the first of a three-part series discussing homelessness, mental illness, and why Dartmouth students should care. Part Two will investigate homelessness in the Upper Valley.